Lots of disturbing movies take place at summer camps. “Friday the 13th,” “Sleepaway Camp,” “Care Bears Movie II: A New Generation,” the list goes on, and it just keeps going because shoving dozens of kids into an emotional pressure cooker at the edge of civilization with minimal supervision and no escape is usually a bad idea. And that’s before you give them all bows and arrows.

Avalon Fast’s sophomore feature isn’t a typical summer camp horror movie. It’s a trippy, melancholic tragedy about healing psychic wounds, and finding out they’re already infected. Try to imagine an angsty, indie teen drama that’s parasitically burrowing its way into a Florence + The Machine music video. Now imagine it’s in theaters now and it’s called “Camp.”

“Truth or Dare” is a crappy game, even on “Love Island,” but it’s even crappier at the start of “Camp.” The halfhearted young friends of Emily (Zola Grimmer) can barely muster enough gusto to come up with a dare, and when they give up, their fallback “truth” is just asking her for her biggest regret. It may have been a haircut. It may have been the time she ran over a four-year-old with her car. Either way it’s a lousy icebreaker.

As if her night couldn’t get any worse, Emily’s best friend overdoses in her car, sending her spiraling into grief and misery. Months go by and her father arranges to get her a camp counseling gig, looking after other troubled youths at a place called only “Camp.” (I’d say the least plausible part of Fast’s film is that the domain name “camp.net” wasn’t already taken, but shut my mouth, because it really isn’t.)

The kids are non-entities, a vague distraction from her worries, but her fellow counselors are badasses. They smoke. They drink. They say things like, “I feel like doing drugs” and look, you gotta give ‘em credit, when they say they’re going to do something they do it. I can’t even take the recycling downstairs most of the time and here these girls are, saying they feel like doing drugs and then doing the damn drugs, making me feel like a lazy jerk.

There’s just one problem. Or maybe there isn’t. Emily’s new cohort, led by the alluring and oddly motherly Clara (Alice Wordsworth), begins each summer with a ritual to make their wishes come true. Nev (Lea Rose Sebastianis) wishes to have sex with their boss, Dan (Austyn Van De Camp), “really, really hard” and wouldn’t you know it, her wish was essentially a command.

Avalon Fast knows that’s wrong, but she knows her characters don’t care very much. Dan starts trudging across the camp grounds, confused and disturbed. He was saving himself for marriage, the poor guy, and looks like he’s on the verge of something terrible. But sacrificing Dan’s virginity gave Emily and her friends a taste of power, and it manifests in sparkly animated hand flourishes, which do nothing, it seems, except look cool. But it’s their power and they’re taking it, and they’ll take a lot more.

The problem with describing the plot of Fast’s “Camp” is that it places way, way too much emphasis on the plot. This movie doesn’t run from scene to scene, it gradually sinks into emotional rot. Emily thinks she’s getting better, finding friends and — in her own way — finding her spirituality. It’s just a selfish, detached spirituality and sees no value in anyone else’s feelings. Or anything else about them. What looks like a film about finding your way back from the darkness is, instead, a labyrinth that Emily probably can’t solve. She may not even want to.

“Camp” is a dreary, disturbing day dream of a movie, the kind you have when you’re all in your feels and close to getting heatstroke. It’s not about getting better, it’s about getting worse, and how that sometimes feels like getting better. You may not have worked through your baggage, you may not have processed your trauma, but at least everything looks simple. You can just while away your days with excess, abandoning all empathy, even for yourself.

It’s a sad film, “Camp,” and it’s a little tricky. Fast is working with familiar horror movie clichés, and falling into the old routine where witchcraft is initially empowering, then horrifying, and that probably doesn’t do real-life witches many favors. Then again, neither do a lot of the classic witch films — especially “The Craft,” the goth 1990s elephant in the room — and most of them aren’t as emotionally salient as Fast’s interpretation, although they’re typically more “fun.”

“Camp” isn’t a fun movie. That’s not a criticism, it’s just the way it is. Avalon Fast’s gloomy, lo-fi aesthetic occasionally segues into ornate, gorgeous imagery, proving the filmmaker — and cinematographer Eily Sprungman — are in total creative control. Fast wants us to feel Emily’s despair and the futile moral ambiguity of her distractions. It’s a cautionary tale, perhaps, about not hanging out with the wrong crowd, or taking solace in mind-altering experiences, but more than anything it’s a sympathetic mirror, and it’s pointed at anyone who ever got lost.

RICHMOND, Va. (WRIC) — In this episode of 8News Reel Talk, Julia Broberg sits down with Hekla Petursson and Catori Ryan to talk about “Toy Story 5.”

The hosts gave their reviews and provided the following star ratings:

Catori: ★★★★

Hekla: ★★★★★

Julia: ★★★★.2

To watch more livestreams and digital video content, head to the WRIC+ Originals page. You can also watch full on-demand videos on your smart TV using the WRIC+ app.

Rose of Nevada is a genuinely poetic movie that pushes the boundaries of the Groundhog Day-style time-travel narrative while carving out an identity completely its own. Rather than relying on the familiar mechanics that audiences have come to expect from the genre, the film approaches the concept through a more reflective and emotional lens. The result is a movie that feels thoughtful, ambitious, and surprisingly moving.

It makes a huge on-screen presence felt through its cast, particularly George MacKay and Callum Turner, who both deliver performances that elevate the material beyond a simple science-fiction premise. Combined with breathtaking visuals and a strong directorial vision, Rose of Nevada becomes something far more memorable than many of its genre contemporaries.

George MacKay continues to prove why he is one of the most compelling actors working today. Following his acclaimed work in 1917, he once again demonstrates an ability to carry a film through sheer presence and emotional authenticity.

Every scene feels grounded because of his performance, even when the story ventures into more abstract territory. Alongside him, Callum Turner delivers what could easily be viewed as a breakout performance. The chemistry between the two leads helps anchor the film, allowing audiences to connect with the characters even as the narrative challenges conventional storytelling expectations.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its visual presentation. The cinematography is nothing short of earth-shattering. Nearly every frame looks like a carefully crafted painting, capturing both the beauty and mystery of the world these characters inhabit. There is a dreamlike quality to the imagery that perfectly complements the film’s themes of time, memory, and destiny.

The camera lingers on landscapes just long enough to allow viewers to soak in their beauty without ever slowing the pace. It’s the kind of cinematography that demands to be appreciated on the largest screen possible.
Director Mark Jenkin continues to establish himself as one of the most distinctive voices in modern British cinema. Following the atmospheric and haunting Enys Men, Jenkin once again crafts a story that feels deeply connected to folklore and place.

The British backdrop becomes a character in itself, with rugged coastlines, open landscapes, and isolated locations contributing to the film’s unique atmosphere. His direction never feels showy or excessive; instead, he trusts the audience to absorb the experience and interpret its deeper meanings.

What makes Rose of Nevada especially fascinating is how it recalls classic time-travel films without simply copying them. There are moments that evoke the spirit of The Final Countdown, particularly in the sense of wonder and uncertainty surrounding the temporal elements.

Yet the film remains firmly rooted in its own identity, focusing more on emotion and introspection than spectacle. It invites viewers to engage with its ideas rather than simply consume them.

This is also one of those rare films that benefits from reflection after the credits roll. It is not a movie designed to provide easy answers. Instead, it lingers in the mind, encouraging discussion and interpretation. The more time you spend thinking about it, the more rewarding it becomes. Much like a fine wine, Rose of Nevada continues to improve with age, revealing new layers and details upon reflection.

Overall, Rose of Nevada is a beautiful, ambitious, and visually stunning piece of filmmaking that deserves to be experienced on the big screen. Powered by exceptional performances, remarkable cinematography, and confident direction, it stands as one of the more unique takes on time travel in recent memory.

Overall Grade: 4/5 Stars