I definitely had a Principal Skinner moment — “Am I so out of touch? No, it’s the children who are wrong” — when watching Hell of a Summer. Ahead of time, I knew I wasn’t in for a traditional slasher, and this had clear signs of some self-awareness, but good god, I was also uninformed of how weirdly anti-comedy and anti-horror this movie would turn out. Not once did I laugh, even though I knew these specific moments were intended as humorous, and whatever shred of horror could be detected in this genre mishmash (misfire?) were weighed down by earsplitting and nonsensical banter. I can see what co-directors and co-stars Billy Bryk and Finn Wolfhard were aiming for, yet the end-product is so off the mark, it’s somewhere else entirely.
Hell of a Summer has the fingerprints of young and eager filmmakers who watched a lot of older horror movies, namely slashers, and thought they should provide their own spin. The funny thing — the only funny thing here — is they didn’t do what you’d expect, as far as self-conscious horror goes. I really should be grateful that this isn’t a modern rehash of Scream, as in the characters educate you about tropes and whatnot. Count yourself lucky if that subgenre has lost its appeal on you. If, somehow, you’re still hankering for more meta-horror, then I don’t know what to tell you. This ain’t that.
Anyway.
Hell of a Summer, at the very least, skips the “hey, this is a horror movie, and we’re gonna spend our runtime letting you know that” format. That I’ll give it. What it then succumbs to is comparatively straightforward, yet at the same time, also unfocused. Is this a coming-of-age movie with shallow, barely there follow-through? Or is it commentary on social media as a social ill? Yes and kinda yes. Ultimately, though, Hell of a Summer is better categorized as a hangout movie where some characters kill or die, and others commit the far worse crime of repartee as they die. That last part made me want to die.
Bryk and Fred Hechinger stand out among the young cast simply because they feel like they want to be there in the first place. They want to do something with the threadbare story rather than let it drift off to hollowness (and it does exactly that). Meanwhile, the other actors exist for the sake of becoming fodder or, in many cases, delivering quips that fizzled mid-sentence, and portraying emptier-than-usual caricatures (vegans, social influencers). It’s a no-contest situation here as to who extended his or herself more than others, but that’s really a fault of the writing, not the actors.
If this is a film about nothing, then it succeeds. Excels at, even. Yet, you can tell that Hell of a Summer is attempting to say something, even if it’s ultimately nothing worth saying. I’m not even asking for a profound message or earth-shattering insight, but goodness me, the movie left zero impression, apart from the very bad one I walked away with.
Hell of a Summer is now playing in theaters.
Tales from the Paulside 
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