by Emily Maesar, Associate Editor, TVJawn

It’s been 21 years since the weirdo, absurdist teen comedy classic Wet Hot American Summer hit the big screen. Maybe not your big screen, though, since its release was… small. To say the least. But the film, written by David Wain and Michael Showalter and directed by Wain, is old enough that it could legally drink. Which is probably the least bad thing that happened to these teens during their 1981 stay at Camp Firewood. 

Now, I wrote about Wet Hot American Summer last year, when I was writing about teen films. That column’s focus was on about teen films, set during the summer, without any real parental supervision. Something that Wet Hot, as a camp movie, has in spades. And growing up, Wet Hot was one of those older sibling films—the kind that basically live in your head rent free, that get quoted all the time, and that you might not really understand until you’re older and watch it with different eyes. Which is the exact place that Wet Hot had in both my house and in my heart. 

When the film premiered at Sundance in 2001, it was touted as having a budget of $5 million, which Wain later said was greatly inflated from the actual $1.8 million. This was in an effort to not seem too low-budget while looking for a distributor at the festival. (Which is a nice time to remind everybody that most film festivals are expressly for this purpose: finding distribution. It’s something I think gets lost in all the hype and online culture surrounding film releases these days, but it’s really important to understand as part of the business of entertainment.) 

So, Wet Hot American Summer premieres at Sundance. They end up doing four screenings to sold-out crowds… and still didn’t manage to get a distribution deal by the end of the festival. Eventually USA Films (which would later become part of Focus Features because of a merger) bought the film for $100,000 without any real input or participation from the filmmakers. Gotta love investors making every call. When the film premiered in New York City, before going “wider,” it ended up being a box office failure. The abysmal number, of slightly less than $300,000 at the box office, meant that very well might become a film that simply doesn’t exist. 

Except for the fact that we’re all freaks who love freaky little weirdo movies. Especially in the very, very strange time that was the new millennium. So, Wet Hot American Summer became a cult classic on home video. With the meandering aesthetic of films like Dazed and Confused and Nashville, but set at a camp. Wain and Showalter have their characters bounce from wild moment to wild moment over the course of the last day of the summer, so the timeline is tight (making the fact that everything in film happens in less than 24 hours part of the comedy). Between normal, albeit exaggerated and played for humor teen (and pre-teen) relationships, you also have the councilors going on a completely wild bender in town, a sentient can of mixed vegetables (voiced by the man, the myth, the legend, H. Jon Benjamin), and a piece of the NASA Skylab coming down over the camp. 

What’s interesting about the rise of Wet Hot as a cult classic, is that there’s no one event or moment that you can really pin-point as the reason why. The film was released on DVD in 2002 and it truly popped off because of word of mouth from the rising horde of hipsters. In New York, there started to be midnight screenings with fans dressing up as their favorite characters. (Very Rocky Horror Picture Show, you know?)

At the end of the day Wet Hot American Summer is this perfect encapsulation of what the media landscape looked like at the time. A fact that continued into the streaming era when Netflix ordered not just one TV series based on the film… but two!

Released two years apart, Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp and Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later are exactly what the subtitles would lead you to believe. The first series, from 2015, was a prequel to the film, which was set on the last day of camp. Just as zany and weird 14 years later, the entire original cast returned to play even younger versions of themselves than they had in 2001. Even the ultra famous members of the cast, like Bradley Cooper, came through. 

Released alongside the new series was a documentary, Hurricane of Fun: The Making of Wet Hot. A new look at the cult classic and glowing reviews of the new show meant that Wet Hot American Summer was truly getting the more mainstream love and support that it should have gotten in 2001. In fact, the success of Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp allowed the team to make a sequel series. In 2017 Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later dropped on Netflix, alongside a TTRPG set in the universe (one that I’m dying to get my hands on someday soon). 

While First Day of Camp has a lot of its new humor in the comedy of an even older cast playing their characters at an even younger age (literally always good), Ten Years Later really spoke to the older millennial anxiety of reunions and the passage of time. In fact, by having seemingly even less actual plot than the film or the first series, it allowed the older fans of the franchise to really experience a specific kind of escapism. Which was, to quote Blank Check co-host and Atlantic critic David Sims to see “everyone get back together, only this time dressed in goofy ’90s outfits.”

Outside of the actual content of the franchise, though, something I find really interesting about Wet Hot American Summer is that both the film and the shows situate themselves at the epicenter of what media was like contemporarily. In 2001, before 9/11 but after the 1990s, the films that succeeded were very specific. And while the top three box office earners of 2001 came from the holiday season (only Monsters, Inc actually came out before 9/11), it becomes clear in the years after 9/11 that the genre of films that would succeed, regardless of their release date, would have to be fantastical escapist romps. 

Basically, with a few notable exceptions (which leaned heavily on the escapism that America was trying to bury itself in) it was no longer possible for indie films, no matter how darling, to “make it.” A statement that’s still true and the divide has really killed off mid-tier comedies, romances, and small dramas. Instead, those films live (whenever they’ve been able to find life again) on streaming platforms.

Which is where the two, count ‘em two, TV shows based off the film represent the more modern era of film and television distribution and conversation. Because the other thing that streaming really brought into the mainstream in a big way was the revival show. A reboot, a sequel, a prequel. It doesn’t matter which one, if you had a show or a film that was even remotely popular in the recent past… you will be getting the streaming revival treatment in some way (which is partially what inspired this column). So, while Wet Hot was nowhere near the start of this pervasive trend, it’s the perfect encapsulation of it. 

I think you could read something profound into Wet Hot American Summer. I actually don’t think it would be too difficult, even. And I think if you find profoundness in this deeply weird, satirical, absurdist comedy then you’re not alone. I’ve never gotten over how remarkable, even outside of the context of 2001, the film is about McKinley and Ben’s relationship. It’s kind of the only thing that isn’t actually played for laughs and I love them for that. Wet Hot is silly and wonderful and there’s a guy in love with a fridge. It’s very much a franchise made up of stories and characters who you’ll love and appreciate every single time, if you’re into them, and who you’ll be repulsed by if they’re not your thing. And that’s a beautiful thing that has been repeated over and over in indie films… but hardly ever duplicated.

So, let’s make a promise to meet back up in ten years and see what kind of people we’ve blossomed into. Sound good?