TIFF23 REVIEW: Summer Qamp

Rating: NR | Runtime: 80 minutes
Release Date: May 10th, 2024 (USA)
Studio: Bright West Entertainment
Director(s): Jen Markowitz

Our job is to get them to be kids again.

The state of equality in North America can be summed up by a reminder the counselors at Camp fYrefly know is necessary to deliver: If you see a fellow camper out in the wild of rural Alberta, be careful how you say hello. They relay the mesage with humor, but it’s a serious topic since blurting out “Don’t I know you from gay camp?” can have devastating consequences when the person on the receiving end hasn’t yet come out to friends/family. It’s why safe spaces like fYrefly are so crucial for the LGBTQIA2S+ community. In many instances, it provides these kids the first real community in which they’ve ever been able to be themselves.

Jennifer Markowitz’s Summer Qamp showcases this truth by documenting a season full of newcomers and return campers alike. With candid testimonials spliced in from a sprawling cast of characters that ensures there are no “stars” overshadowing the others just because they’re more extroverted or comfortable with the camera, we’re able to get a great sense of the myriad ways in which prejudice, anxiety, and fear manifests for vulnerable teens who have never been surrounded by so many relatable people in their lives.

You get the commiseration of talking to someone who’s gone through what you’re going through. The zero judgment assistance from those in the know to better educate you on topics you’ve had to research and learn on your own. And amidst the rock climbing and archery are drag shows and lessons on intersectionality—the whole endeavor proving its own over-arching trust exercise by simply letting everyone be who they are without having to worry about bullies waiting around the corner. It’s the sort of experience that can deliver the much-needed empowerment boost to figure out who it is you truly are.

And you know it works from the fact that this film exists. Everyone involved is baring their heart and soul on-camera. Whether Ren looking for voices with experience to learn from or Ghoul being able to safely reject gender altogether or Kingston finding the courage to fully come out to his parents as a trans man after thus far only admitting to bisexuality: the words and feelings expressed are potent. These kids are cogent, authentic, and inspiring. In a world ravaged by bigotry to the point where the LGBTQIA2S+ community is labeled as abusers and groomers, Markowitz lets these kids prove the opposite.

They describe how they came to their identities alone and often despite extremely scary circumstances and how this place is conversely an escape from the real abuse of a world steeped in prejudice—one Jade admits to confusedly embracing in an attempt to erase herself by adhering to its vehement rejection of her. Surrounding them with those that relate to their plight makes fYrefly a salvation instead. A camp to help deprogram them from the indoctrinating cult of heteronormativity. To remind them that they matter too. That they’re human. That they’re loved.