Remake can be a dirty word. There seem to be two camps when it comes to remakes. Those who absolutely despise them. And those who are more-or-less indifferent. Regardless of one’s feelings, the fact is that remakes are not inherently “bad.” Many factors ultimately play into the quality of any given remake. There are definitely some flicks that could benefit from a remake. While others should just be left alone. Thus, we ask the question… Remake it or Take it?
On its surface, 1983’s Sleepaway Camp is just another 80’s Camp-Slasher flick. Filmed in Argyle, New York, at a camp the writer/director Robert Hiltzik attended as a child, Sleepaway Camp has all the tropes we’ve come to associate with the genre on full display. A decent whodunit with a plausible red herring. POV kill shots. Gnarly practical effects. And a fair bit of humor for balance. Though let’s be honest, the thing anyone and everyone remembers about Sleepaway Camp is that ending. The big swinging shlong in your face twist ending. But, truthfully, Hiltzik’s cult classic is much more than its ending. It’s a campy, quirky flick with a lot of charm.
Spawning three sequels that, while fun in their own right, are nowhere near as magical as the first. Whispers and rumors of a remake have been around for years, but for one reason or another, nothing has ever come of them. Actress and star of the original Felissa Rose has long expressed interest in keeping the franchise alive, and it’s not tough to see why. But should its life be extended via remake?
No. Another sequel? Sure, but not a remake. No matter who was at the helm. No matter how talented they were. They’d never be able to recapture what makes Sleepaway Camp such a unique piece of cinema. If anything, a remake would most likely take what made the original so great and bastardize and misappropriate it, mangling the story into a soapbox.
It can’t be denied that some elements of the 1983 picture would be considered sensitive topics in today’s supposed more evolved and forward-thinking world. There are definitely LGBTQ+ themes in the film. They’re there, but they’re not out and proud, as it were. The filmmakers don’t make a big deal of it because it’s not a big deal. There is a homosexual couple, done. Not much more needs to be said. Unless you feel like digging into what the possible subtext of it all means. And, hey, you could do that too. Sleepaway Camp is a flick that lends itself well to critical dissection.
It seems all too likely a modern studio would get ahold of this property and lean hard into the LGBTQ+ stuff. Whether they’d go pro or negative would depend on the creator’s agendas. You really could spin it either way. Especially with the twist ending reveal that I’m trying moderately hard not to spoil. (I’m just not a DICK like that.) Sleepaway Camp doesn’t need to be a political statement. It shouldn’t be. Not outright, leave the politics in the subtext and let the rest of us Neanderthals enjoy the ride. It’s like we all get it; It’s a Small World is a thinly veiled message about one world government; shut up already, crazy tin-foil hat guy; some of us just want to sit in the air-conditioned darkness, groping our partners (who may or may not be of the same sex.) Sleepaway Camp is not an LGBTQ+ film. It’s a film with LGBTQ+ characters and themes. Characters that are never explicitly stated by anyone to be homosexuals. They just are. And we know they are. And that’s enough.
A lot of what makes Sleepaway Camp such a beloved movie is understated. And a lot could never be recreated successfully. Aunt Martha is a prime example. Desiree Gould’s unhinged, demented performance as Aunt Martha is something to behold. Her body language and line delivery are so off-kilter you can’t help but laugh in that nervous sort of way. Anyone else doing this would come off as a poor parody and distract from the overall film. Then there’s Felissa Rose as shy, repressed Angela Baker. And while Pamela Springsteen (Yes, Springsteen. As in Jessica Springsteen, who also happens to be her niece) did a fantastic job in the sequels, the Angela of the first Sleepaway Camp is a very different little boy. Angela is isolated, an extreme introvert who barely speaks a word of dialogue until almost halfway through. We feel bad for her. We want the other kids to leave her alone and stop picking on her. And we suspect her cousin Ricky of defending her. And by defending, you know, we mean brutally assaulting and murdering those who’ve been cruel to his sweet, innocent cousin. It would be impossible to find the right actors to fill the massive shoes of this cast.
Speaking of the cast—A remake would probably want to age them up a bit. The majority of main characters age somewhere between teen and tween. And these kids are real little shits. So you know, they’re kids. Written and acted the way kids actually act. Which is like little shits. It would be shocking to see a studio today allow children to be presented as the terrible, mean-spirited creatures they actually are.
In the current cultural landscape of this modern age, too much of Sleepaway Camp is a powderkeg of potential controversy. Any and all attempts at remaking this masterful cult classic would be in vain. Nothing would be gained, and everything could be lost. Best case scenario, the remake would be quickly forgotten. Worst case, it’d become a bone of contention for both Woke and Anti-Woke parties.
No one wins with a Sleepaway Camp remake. The original holds up. It’s fun. It’s damn fun. And that’s what counts. — Take it as it is. Enjoy it. Don’t overthink it. Not everything needs to be a statement.
But what do you think? Could a Sleepaway Camp remake work? Would anyone want that? Let us know in the comments. Sleepaway Camp, remake it or take it?