Comedy
Dead Boy Detectives
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
Netflix’s Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp is outrageously ludicrous. And you don’t even have to watch it to reach that conclusion. For starters, the fact that it exists at all is about as scientifically implausible as the platypus.
Consider the movie on which it’s based: Wet Hot American Summer was made in 2001 to spoof such sex-drenched 1980s comedies as Porky’s and Meatballs.
It earned less than $300,000.
Well, sometimes great movies just don’t find an audience, right? Maybe that one was a little-known gem that, for the few people who actually watched the thing, instantly became an all-time favorite.
Nope, try again. It has a miserable 32% “freshness” rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
And did I mention yet that it was a sex comedy spoof?
Yes, you’d think that a bomb of a movie like this would have as much chance of triggering a lavish eight-episode season on media heavyweight Netflix as I do of my latest book (It’s titled Burning Bush 2.0, and it’s available now at a fine online bookseller near you!) being picked up by Pixar for a three-picture deal.
But, of course, you would not be accounting for the growing power of celebrity.
Turns out that practically everyone who acted in Wet Hot American Summer later became famous. Among them: Bradley Cooper (American Sniper), Amy Poehler (Inside Out), Paul Rudd (Ant-Man) and Elizabeth Banks (The Hunger Games). That’s helped turn the film into a cult classic. And now they’re all back, 14 years later, in a prequel of all things. That’s right: some of these actors who were playing teens while in their 20s are now playing, yep, teens while in their 40s.
Age has not brought wisdom to the mix, unfortunately. Dialogue still drips with grotesque sexual allusions and dirty juvenile witticisms. Every fortysomething-meets-teenager camp counselor longs to hop into bed with someone—with only the sex mattering, not the gender. Even campers are fair game here.
The plot? Purely extraneous. I’ve already told you that the only reason this show exists is to pay homage to one of 2001’s least-watched and most poorly reviewed movies. OK, there’s one more reason: to ogle some of Hollywood’s most self-effacing stars as they mock themselves in the silliest, often most revolting ways possible. This series riffs on a bad movie spoofing a degenerate genre by purposefully turning it into an outrageously terrible, insanely preposterous pileup that, paradoxically, critics love.
At the time of this writing, that 32% Rotten Tomatoes gave Wet Hot American Summer turns into a sparkling 91% freshness rating for First Day of Camp.
Star power can do that sort of thing for Rotten Tomatoes … but not really for Plugged In.
Viewers form their first impressions of the counselors at Camp Firewood, who talk about and act out all manner of sexual situations. (The latter includes an “ear rape” of sorts.) There are “lose your virginity” challenges, hookups, and references to breasts and oral sex. Actually, there are references to every kind of sex by way of a vulgar litany that’s recited. These guys smoke. And they drink beer around the campfire.
Campers hurls penile-related insults. Boys’ underwear is strung up on a flagpole. There’s a burp contest. Crass comments are made about electric chairs, toilets and puberty. Girls show off midriffs, guys wear short shorts. We hear the f-word five times. Also: the s-word, “a–,” “b–ch,” “d–n” and “d–k.” We see obscene gestures. God’s name is misused, once with “d–n.” Jesus’ is abused once.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
An elf mage contemplates on connection and regret as she watches her human friends grow old and pass away.
