‘Camp Rock 3’ can’t quite find the note
When I first heard that “Camp Rock 3” was in the works, I felt the same way I did when I learned that “Wizards of Waverly Place” was getting rebooted, or that they were planning a sequel to “Freaky Friday.” It wasn’t exactly joy that came over me, but a quiet hint of dread. Sure, I was excited to see my favorite characters come to life once more, but I was also wary of tainting my precious memories.
Disney Channel was the architect of my childhood. I distinctly remember getting home from school, kicking off my shoes, and crashing on the couch, where I’d reach for the remote and turn on the TV. I had just discovered the joy of movie musicals, and—it wouldn’t be dramatic to say—my life was about to change. Suddenly, there was a whole new visual and emotional register through which to discover what I felt and longed for.
I had a vague sense that there was something profound about the stimuli that were “High School Musical” and “Hannah Montana.” Now, I have a clear notion that there is something radical about singing and dancing.
Moving your body is not just about improving motor skills, it is also a means of honing one’s instincts, recognizing patterns, responding to rhythms, and placing oneself within a larger composition. It’s about developing trust among peers, witnessing diverse talent, and appreciating the gradience of multiple nuanced perspectives.
The first two “Camp Rock” films understood just how valuable these abilities were in raising a generation of young thinkers. “Camp Rock 3” could not care less.
Warning: There are spoilers beyond this point
The sign of the times
The essence of “Camp Rock” is rooted in a widespread teenage fantasy: a whole summer dedicated to offsetting the ordinariness of their high school existences, and finally being seen and heard. The fantasy hasn’t changed since then.
Except now we are in the age of social media, where instead of warning kids about the compromises of fame, it is in the interest of big corporations to profit off young people’s desire for attention.
The return of Demi Lovato and the Jonas Brothers is not enough to redeem the dire quality of the latest film. The mediocre soundtrack is symptomatic of its poor plot. The moral of the film glaringly shifted from being about the prospect of a joyful summer among passionate artists toward the bleak endeavor of becoming a mainstream musical sensation.
Where the first “Camp Rock’s” protagonist Mitchie desperately wanted the time to focus on her singing and songwriting, “Camp Rock 3’s” lead Sage cares only about stardom—two different disciplines, with two different values at the heart of it.
Where did “Camp Rock 3” fall short?
By the end of the film, Sage and her band of misfits come together to realize that there’s room for all of them to shine, with each of them getting a coveted spot on tour with the Jonas Brothers’ fictional counterpart, Connect 3.
Not only is the ending unconvincing—quite literally everyone wins in a competition designed for one winner—but devoid of any emotional resolution. Each character’s backstory is underdeveloped, and their relationship to one another is equally muddled. The mean girl, an influencer by the name of Madison, showcases no actual rival in talent.
And her attempts to thwart the leads can only be described as pathetic, failing to result in any real conflict or tension between the main love interests.
In “Camp Rock 3,” Sage loses a friend’s trust only to suffer the consequences for all of two minutes. In the original “Camp Rock,” the crisis for Mitchie was far more complex: She had lied to her campmates about her pedigree in order to fit in, betrayed her real friends, and jeopardized her budding romance with Shane. Her narrative arc consisted of a real, sympathetic motivation and even a class dimension.
The lesson Mitchie learns by the end of the film—where she is not crowned the winner of the Final Jam, by the way—is hard-earned. The relationships she leaves with are profound. The same cannot be said for Sage, whose most interesting dynamic is with her brother—a refreshing sibling angle that unfortunately falls short of any depth at all.
The film doesn’t ask its audience to reflect on their values or to even care about music. It only asks that they maintain their subscriptions and refrain from reviewing its terms.
Where once our childhood movies offered insight and critique, the very same franchises now offer nothing but consolation—movies that bore you into submission, encourage you to split your attention between the television and your phone, and ultimately destroy the legacy of previously well-made productions.
After all, the movie doesn’t necessarily have to be good to make money. Its audience is already guaranteed by now-adult Disney Channel fiends, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the past.
