For our annual summer countdown, we are looking at our favorite 25 movies that were not huge hits during their initial release, but mean a lot to us. Check out last year’s Summer of Stars countdown or the year before when we did blockbusters! Find the rest of the Flop and Fizzle series here!

by Billy Russell, Staff Writer

Wet Hot American Summer was destined to be a flop. Here you have a movie that’s just a little too clever for its own good, and how do you market that? It’s a spoof of 1980s summer camp movies–the satire lies in taking a ridiculous, notoriously unfunny genre and taking it to its logical extreme. The results are ludicrous. Talking cans of vegetables implore camp cooks to be happy with who they are; nerds, aka “indoor kids” save everyone from a falling piece of Skylab; an hour of fun in town turns into a violent, heroin-induced frenzy with no consequences.

At a budget of only $1.8 million, the film still couldn’t manage to recoup it at the box office, which only brought in around $300k. Its over-the-top silly tone confused audiences and angered uptight critics. Over the years, however, viewers have warmed to it. People have begun to understand its tone a little better. And it’s fun to see such a large cast of talented actors, many of whom hadn’t quite made it big yet. Much of the cast is from the MTV skit comedy show The State: Amy Poehler had just joined Saturday Night Live; Paul Rudd had done Clueless years ago; and Bradley Cooper was completely unknown. The two biggest names in the cast at the time are probably Janeane Garofalo and David Hyde Pierce, who are wisely teamed up together to get some of the biggest, best laughs out of the entire picture. 

The movie is set in 1981 on the last day of summer camp. Anything that can happen, of course, does happen. It’s an action-filled day. People find love. People discover themselves. They save lives–hell, in some cases, they endanger lives and then save them. They learn. They grow. They do everything these camp movies require of them, and there’s not a single cliche on the list left unchecked.

Attempting to recap the barest of this film’s many plots turned out to be a Herculean task. It consists of about a dozen subplots, three times as many characters and speaking roles, climax after climax, and never, ever lets up for a second. Wet Hot American Summer is an exhausting, hilarious experience. 

Self-awareness goes a long way. Movies that pride themselves on being the stupidest movie on the block usually wind up being just that–and damn near unwatchable. David Wain and Michael Showalter seem to have a real affinity for the type of movie they’re spoofing, though, and that’s what makes all the difference. They’re excited to take us, the viewer, on a grand tour of the summer camp and introduce us to its characters’ lives and drama, allowing it all to unfurl in increasingly ridiculous ways. None of it feels like a slog: it all feels alive and excited and ready to take us to the next chapter.

There’s this word anemoia that means “nostalgia for something that never happened.” That’s how I feel about Wet Hot American Summer. Growing up, I never did the whole summer camp thing–that was for rich kids. The closest thing I have is that I went to a two-week-long art camp on a full scholarship when I was a teenager. Watching Wet Hot American Summer makes me feel like camp was a big part of my life, though. It feels so embedded into a specific time and place, with little details that feel lived-in and make the movie feel alive. It helps that it’s inspired by Wain’s experience going to Jewish summer camps as a kid. 

Wet Hot American Summer is a movie I rewatch every year. When I watch it, I feel like a kid watching their favorite movie on tape for the 100th time and who can recite every line of dialogue, every musical cue, and each story beat that happens moments before it occurs on screen. Over the years, I’ve introduced it to everyone I’ve met who’s never seen it. 

It’s a movie that was made specifically for me. Pretentious people often tout, with an air of arrogance, that they want a comedy that “makes them think.” Sure, that’s great. I like to think as much as the next guy. But you know what? Life fucking sucks, and sometimes, I like a comedy that’s expertly designed to prevent me from thinking. For a blissful 92 minutes, whenever I’m watching Wet Hot American Summer, all that matters is Camp Firewood and its cast of characters, who, after twenty years of annual rewatches, feel like old friends to me.