Sympathy for the Theater Kids

Theater Camp is an endearing ode to creativity, and a reminder of the importance of artistic community.

Characters in the movie “Theater Camp”
Searchlight Pictures

Forget Barbenheimer; July has a different double feature you should pay attention to. Two films premiering this weekend celebrate the value of putting on a practical production. One is the newest Mission: Impossible, a thrill ride as heartfelt as it is breathtaking. The other is Theater Camp, a mockumentary that, with apologies to Tom Cruise, might better underscore his message about the importance of committing one’s life to the arts (and at about half the runtime too).

The Sundance crowd-pleaser follows a ragtag team of counselors at a small but beloved summer institution in the Adirondacks called, aptly, “AdirondACTS.” Much of the plot—about saving AdirondACTS from foreclosure in part by putting on The Big Show—will feel familiar to anyone who’s seen one of the many movies about performing-arts programs (Camp, Camp Rock, and, well, anything else with Camp in the title). But despite the film’s simple narrative, Theater Camp is wonderfully charming and freshly relevant, arriving at a time when writers and actors have gone on strike over concerns about their work being devalued. The film is thus an endearing look at creativity as well as a surprisingly poignant reminder that most artists succeed not through individual genius, but by being part of a community.

Theater Camp begins with AdirondACTS’s founder, Joan (played by Amy Sedaris), suffering an injury: The strobe lights used during a middle-school production of Bye Bye Birdie cause a seizure that put her in a coma. Stepping up to save the camp is an oddball crew that includes Joan’s slacker son, Troy (Jimmy Tatro, hilarious); the self-serious drama coach Amos (Ben Platt, making up enormously for the dreadful Dear Evan Hansen film); the eccentric music teacher Rebecca-Diane (Molly Gordon, who co-directed and co-wrote the film); the bombastic dance instructor Clive (Nathan Lee Graham); and, in a delightfully underplayed turn, the staff’s new addition, Janet (Ayo Edebiri), who lied on her résumé about her stage-work bona fides. The kids, too, are splendid: Minari’s Alan Kim stands out in a handful of scenes as a camper hell-bent on becoming a talent agent, barking into phones around the camp’s administrative offices like a tiny Ari Gold.

If these actors were simply riffing off one another for the entire film, Theater Camp would have been fun enough. But the script wisely spends time exploring why any adult would want to spend their summers chasing around pint-size wannabe Tony winners—and, in turn, what such campers get from the eclectic collection of adults around them. Gordon and co-director Nick Lieberman use extreme close-ups and position their camera voyeuristically behind window blinds, emphasizing the pressure the staff is under. Through hushed conversations and well-chosen reaction shots, the film reveals the counselors’ insecurities and motivations. Some, like Amos, have been bruised by their career hiccups and see AdirondACTS as a haven. Others, like Clive, bask in nostalgia, sharing tales from their artistic past to an appreciative audience.

The dialogue can get a little cheesy—“We’re theater people; we know how to turn cardboard into gold,” a character insists at one point—but the film balances this out with scenes that poke fun at the absurdity of being a theater person, kid or adult. The counselors are often brutally honest to their wards, reminding them that few ever make it to Broadway. During staff meetings, they critique the children’s performances with unironic gravity. In one of my favorite scenes, Rebecca-Diane and Amos descend on a camper who used a tear stick—a tool actors apply like eyeliner to help them cry on cue—by leaping onto the stage and confiscating the object with the intensity of DEA agents busting a drug deal. The camper is immediately sorry for her actions, but Rebecca-Diane uses the tear stick on herself, just to underline how disappointed she is in her student. It’s one of several good-humored gags that emphasize the connection between the children and the staff.

Earnest and ridiculous in equal measure, Theater Camp makes clear that places like AdirondACTS are microcosms of magical weirdness. The film isn’t just a starry-eyed ode to the wonders of theater; it’s a look at how following one’s passions requires immense support. Performance is about expression, and, for much of the staff, admitting how they feel during a particularly tough summer—one with low morale and low earnings—pushes them to learn the same lessons as their campers. Troy must figure out his role as the camp’s interim owner rather than procrastinating and fooling around with the attractive financial adviser (Patti Harrison, an always welcome presence) who’s trying to persuade him to sell the property. Amos must learn to depend on Rebecca-Diane without suffocating her, just as he would if she were his scene partner in a play. Only together can they rescue the camp that represents who they are. That’s the kind of mission that won’t save the world—but then again, the stage, however small, is their entire world.

Shirley Li is a staff writer at The Atlantic.