Hell of a Summer (2023) Review

Not all horror is terrifying, and sometimes that decision is intentional. You know the kind: films that aren’t especially scary, but might be someone’s first step into discovering the joys of the genre. Finn Wolfhard and Billy Bryk’s Hell of a Summer certainly fits this profile, though whether it’s an affectionate homage to 80s slashers or just a flat pastiche depends entirely on how generous you’re feeling.

On paper, their ideas are all too familiar. A group of fresh-faced summer camp counsellors arrive at the remote Camp Pineway for pre-season training, only to find themselves stalked by a masked killer. It’s Friday the 13th meets Wet Hot American Summer, with a dash of Scream-style self-awareness thrown in for good measure. But while the cast is game and the film has a certain breezy charm, there’s a nagging sense that Wolfhard and Bryk are riffing on genre tropes without ever fully understanding what made them work in the first place.

The ensemble is packed with archetypes, some of them leaning so hard into their clichés they almost fall over. Fred Hechinger’s Jason, a 24-year-old camp veteran clinging to the glory days of his youth, emerges as the emotional core of the film. Hechinger brings warmth and awkwardness to a character who might otherwise be intolerable. Abby Quinn’s Claire provides a will-they-won’t-they dynamic, though their romance is as undercooked as most of the relationships here. Meanwhile, Bryk gives himself the best lines as the attention-seeking Bobby, and there’s welcome comic relief from Pardis Saremi’s influencer Demi and D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai’s preening alpha male Mike.

It’s a shame the script doesn’t give them much to do beyond broad gags and reactive dialogue. Too often the humour feels like a series of Twitter drafts stitched together, with punchlines you can see coming a mile off. The scares, too, are thin on the ground. For all its nods to horror classics, Hell of a Summer lacks the nerve to lean into real danger. Death scenes are rushed or played offscreen, leaving little room for tension. Even the killer’s identity, meant to be a clever reveal, lands with a dull thud.

Visually, there’s evidence of ambition. Jacob Owens’ cinematography makes effective use of the camp setting, particularly in the misty early scenes. But stylistic flourishes – including whip pans and Edgar Wright-lite transitions – quickly wear out their welcome. Some of it even seemed a little too dimly lit, making it a struggle to understand who was killing what in the outdoor shots. And while there’s a John Carpenter-inspired synth score pulsing in the background, it only serves to remind you how much sharper and scarier those original films were.

Perhaps the biggest issue is the film’s lack of conviction. Wolfhard and Bryk clearly love the genre, but their affection translates into timid, derivative filmmaking. There’s no bite here, no willingness to either embrace the slasher’s inherent nastiness or subvert it with real wit. Compared to something like Bodies Bodies Bodies or even In a Violent Nature, this feels disappointingly safe.

Still, there’s potential. Wolfhard and Bryk show a knack for character comedy and, with a tighter script and a bolder approach, could yet make something truly memorable. As it stands, Hell of a Summer is a serviceable calling card for two first-time directors, but it never rises above a curious footnote in the genre they so clearly revere.

Movie Rating:

Hell of a Summer trailer