“Camp” follows Emily, who is sent to a camp for troubled youth to ease her guilt after causing two tragedies early in her life. There, she becomes a counselor and is taken in by the others, but a voice in the woods remains, telling her to go home.
Right from the start, “Camp” is hypnotic. As grainy black-and-white visuals and a track from Max Robin’s score overlay the opening credits, it instantly sets you at ease while also generating a slight pause with the “you will never see me again” lyrics. This is immediately offset by the jarring input of loud static feedback that accompanies the title card. Even before the story begins, this gives viewers just a small taste of what they’re in for.
The cinematography is central to the identity of “Camp,” not only because of the entrancing visuals alone but also director of photography Eily Sprungman’s handheld approach. Camera shakes and tilts are constantly used to stress Emily’s mental state. They also make every scene feel “lived in.” Additionally, the film includes memory sequences that frequently cut into the present-day story. Shot with a different analog style, these take you back to a specific moment in time, elevating the impact of their inclusion in the process.
While the off-putting style screams horror, the film can better be described as a coming-of-age drama. Writer-director Avalon Fast explores hard-hitting themes of childhood trauma, guilt and belonging. In this way, it’s similar to Jane Schoenbrun’s 2024 release, “I Saw the TV Glow,” bringing trippy visuals to the surface to express deeper meaning. In “Camp,” the foggy woods and star-filled skies serve as metaphors for these deep-rooted emotions.
Also much like “I Saw the TV Glow,” there isn’t an inherent sense of direction. Rather than guiding the audience toward a certain destination, it ebbs and flows alongside Emily. Another 2026 film, “Bunnylovr,” takes a near-identical approach, though in a much more grounded sense. Because of this, “Camp” will strike a chord with a niche audience; those who can’t relate to the central character may find it monotonous. With a 111-minute runtime, it takes its time transitioning between reality and fantasy. When viewing them separately, the narrative appears thin. By the time you piece them all together, however, the messaging becomes powerful. Still, there does come a point where the unconventional script overstays its welcome. Viewers can hold out hope that a resolution will come, but the wait lingers until the credits roll.
“Camp” is uniquely frustrating in this way. Even when it’s over, you’ll likely be left wondering — whether that’s about the narrative itself or the ideas within it. This makes it clear that the film left some sort of impact. It’s also clear that the experience itself was meandering.
Zola Grimmer (Emily) plays an extremely layered character. Large pieces of her persona are hidden, yet Grimmer is able to deliver so much personality while doing very little. Through her words, she’s often monotone and quiet, but her facial expressions allow you to see the sorrow that fills her and the hope that lies deep within. Other notable performances come from Alice Wordsworth (Clara), Cherry Moore (Rosie) and Lea Rose Sebastianis (Nev). While the remaining cast doesn’t receive complete focus like Grimmer, the entire ensemble helps to emanate community.
“Camp” is captivating through its visuals more than its story. The distinctive approach to exploring trauma in a witchcraft drama elevates the fragmented components within.
Rating: 3 out of 5
