Camp Firwood

I’ll admit, I went into *Camp Firwood* expecting something closer to *Sleepaway Camp* with a supernatural twist. What I got was far more interesting—and far more disturbing. Bacic’s strength lies in his ability to make the ordinary feel *wrong*. The first half moves at a deliberate pace, letting you marinate in the camp’s off-kilter vibe: the overly enthusiastic counselors, the kids who vanish without explanation, the way the adults all seem to be performing some script only they understand. Gatterdam’s narration is a masterclass in restraint—his Kevin sounds like a real, sulky 17-year-old, but when the horror ramps up, his voice takes on a rawness that sells the terror. The production team deserves credit, too; the occasional background noise (a twig snapping, a distant chant) never feels gimmicky, just *present*, like you’re eavesdropping on something you shouldn’t. That said, the pacing won’t be for everyone. The build-up is *long*, and if you’re here for jump scares or relentless action, you might grow impatient. The "Trial" sequences, when they arrive, are brutally effective, but the payoff for some of the earlier mysteries feels slightly rushed compared to the meticulous setup. And while Kevin’s character arc is compelling, a few side characters blur together—though that might be intentional, given the camp’s sinister homogeneity. Still, the final act delivers a gut-punch of an ending that left me staring at my headphones, wondering if I’d missed clues hidden in plain sight. If you love horror that rewards close listening—where the real chills come from what’s *implied* rather than shown—this is a standout. Just don’t listen to it while actually camping.