Wet Hot American Summer

It’s 1981, the last day of the season at Camp Firewood, and everyone’s trying to get laid. Acquitting herself remarkably well, camp director Jeanne Garofalo pines after astrophysics prof David Hyde Pierce while a counselor lusts for a girl who only has thighs for lifeguard Paul Rudd. There are some peripheral twists—the big talent show, the imminent crash of Skylab—but this isn’t a plot-driven satire, folks. Instead, in their 2001 comedy, Michael Showalter and David Wain gleefully, tastelessly spoof ‘80s sex-at-summer camp flicks like Meatballs. Summer frankly celebrates such depravities as a 34-year-old divorcée (Molly Shannon) being seduced by a prepubescent charge, gay marriage, and, um…what do you call the love between a man and his refrigerator, anyway? The movie may mark the last time audiences walk into a summer camp movie and come out cheering for the oversexed teens, not the ax-wielding psycho. See theater Web site for showtimes. (R) KURT B. REIGHLEY

Aug. 6-11, 2010