Sequel series dripping with too much lameness
The show: Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later, Season 1, Episode 6 The moment: Eugene
Gene (Christopher Meloni), dimwitted but well-meaning, is on a mission to save Camp Firewood, where he was once head cook, from evil buyers. He visits Gail (Molly Shannon), his ex-girlfriend.
“I need you,” Gene says. “You know the ins and outs of that camp like you know the ins and outs of the back of your hand.”
“I can’t, Gene,” she says. “I have someone here who needs me.” She calls for her young daughter Jenny. Jenny enters, wearing the exact sleeveless T-shirt and head bandana as Gene. They greet each other using the exact same words.
“Jenny loves arts and crafts just like her mother,” Gail says. “She also loves to cook. Just. Like. Her father.” Gene’s face is blank. “That’s cool,” he says. “I love to cook, too.”
“Right,” Gail says patiently. “I’m talking about you, Gene.”
“Who’s Eugene?” Gene asks. Outside, a car honks. “Gotta go. Tell Eugene’s daughter I said goodbye.”
Netflix is banking that fans of the original 2001cult film and the subsequent 2015 prequel series want more of their BFF-comedians (Paul Rudd, Janeane Garofalo, Amy Poehler, Elizabeth Banks and many more) pushing more lame jokes to their lamest limit, and rehashing the tiredest tropes of summer horror, romance and camp movies.
But this bank is now empty. There’s only so much parodying of lameness you can do before you become a lame parody of yourself.
It’s like watching a weightlifter work only one bicep, until it becomes outlandishly enormous and topples the now-withered rest of its body under its stupid weight. Wet Hot American Summer: Ten Years Later is streaming on Netflix. Johanna Schneller is a media connoisseur who zeroes in on pop-culture moments. She usually appears Monday through Thursday.