Daniel Waters guaranteed himself a place in cinema history with his debut screenplay "Heathers", one of the sharpest, blackest and downright original films of the second half of the eighties. Yet in the meantime he has seemingly enjoyed his well-paid limbo in hackville, churning out scripts ranging from the what-was-he-thinking (yes "Hudson Hawk", we mean you) to the sublime (the second and best installment in the Batman franchise). Thus the phrase "Daniel Waters' directorial debut" immediately raises expectations, will it be a twisted and perverted return to his "Heathers" world view? The answer is yes.
The premise is as warped as one would expect - a black, and I mean black, satire on the banal summer camp genre, using it as a metaphor for the point in our lives when, as teenagers, our childhood innocence gives way to the disappointments and tribulation of adulthood. If this sounds pretentious that's because it is, wildly so, but one has to give Waters some credit for not simply churning out a "Heathers" clone ("Jawbreaker" did us that favor). And while the characters are nowhere near as nihilistic as in that film (more so they are skewered stereotypes), the film does, particularly in the second half, move into bleak territory. The film's primary saving grace, besides a typically biting screenplay from Waters, is his outstanding casting, notably Stormare, Swain, Renfro and, particularly, the underused Bergl, all of whom deliver fine performances but struggle with the main flaw in Waters' script, none of the characters are very likable. It's not a great film, in fact it is a very flawed one, but it is never anything but ambitious and frequently very funny. It also makes an interesting double bill with "Wet Hot American Summer", another off-the-wall satire on the genre released the same year. Let's just hope we don't have to wait so long for his next film.
