Camp review

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The singing. The dancing. The bitching. Imagine Fame hiked into the Naughties with a giant dollop of irony, lots of gay pride and plenty of old-fashioned song-and-dance tunes, and you'll be pretty close to Camp's pitch.

At a performing-arts summer camp, teen hunk Vlad (Daniel Letterle) arrives to find himself surrounded by drag queens, fag hags and neurotic theatre-lovers. He quickly becomes the object of everyone's attention. Is he gay, an "honest-to-God straight-boy" or just a tease? It's a question everyone tries to answer by seducing the pants off him.

Never has a film been so accurately titled. So cheesy you'll be groping for a box of crackers to go with it, this all-singing, all-dancing extravaganza is destined for cult status. A pink angora sweater of a movie, Camp is naff, warm, fuzzy round the edges and certainly not for everyone. Ed Wood would have loved it, though - and that's a compliment.

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