Sleepaway Camp 3: Teenage Wasteland

I have goals in life, like anyone else. Unfortunately, my goals usually revolve around finding who’s killing the cattle at midnight on Fall Out: New Vegas or drinking the most beer out of a 30 pack that I didn’t pay for. It still feels good to meet those goals though and today, I will review the 3rd Sleepaway Camp film, getting us one step closer to having a comprehensive and rather pointless breakdown of all of Angela’s exploits. And yes, we’ll be doing this the quick and dirty way, as I cannot stand even the thought of trying to watch this one all the way through alone. So I give you, Sleepaway Camp 3: Teenage Wasteland. Sorry.

– We of course have ample amounts of gratuitous nudity and even a a Pooke Hall Of Famer appearance! Yes folks, you can’t hate a film that has Jill Terashita playing an asshole drug addict named Arab who can’t seem to keep her shirt on. You also get Michael J. Pollard, a man famous for playing pubescent boys, shoving his face in some blondes massive rack and in general, making me uncomfortable. Oh yeah, forgot about the opening gag, where the girl Angela snuffs out has tattoos over her breasts that say “Milk” and “Shake” respectively. Subtlety in films is a wonderful thing, but sometimes you just NEED implants flying across the screen at an unnecessary rate.

– Pamela Springsteen is back for her second go around as Angela and does the usual serviceable job. The rest of the cast runs the gamut from “Sort of okay” to “Heroically awful” and what more would you expect from this series? Frankly, if any of these people really knew what they were doing, I’d probably be pretty upset.

– The death toll of the film is high and all of the gags they came up with are pretty creative/brutal; Firework going off in a sleeping man’s nose and lawnmower to the face being two of the highlights. Unfortunately, this film was made during a random MPAA crack down on gratuitous violence, so the thing has just been cut to shit in the least flattering way possible. Lots of off screen carnage and quick jump cuts away from the nastier bits. I am not ashamed to admit that this makes me fight back tears and shake stoically against the swell of loss I feel. I am not ashamed by ANYTHING.

– The film does feature a fabulous moment which involves some convoluted bullshit that ends with a snotty rich girl being tied to a flagpole’s wench system, lifted 25 feet in the air and then pile driven into the Earth below. Not since Owen Hart nearly murdered Stone Cold Steve Austin on live pay per view has massive neck injury been this thrilling! Also, it leaves a brain pile.

– Ya know, there’s just not much to really say about this piece of trash. It brings all the usual Sleepaway conceits to the table, but with none of it’s energy. The thing just comes off flat as all get out and not even TERASHITA can save it. Only pop this baby in if you’re halfway through a nice bottle of Old Crow or are planning on killing yourself with a speedball half way through. Because then, forever more, your family will wonder why one of your last thoughts was “I think I’ll see if Sleepaway Camp 3 holds up well against the impending embrace of sweet Lady Death’s merciful agony.”

Now here is a picture of Michael J. Pollard.