Last week, the teaser trailer for Camp Rock 3 saw the Jonas Brothers –– or as they’re known in the Disney ‘verse, Connect 3 –– step back onto the sand at the aforementioned summer camp, fifteen years since their last summer there. The three are starring in the series, Demi Lovato is executive producing alongside them, and a flock of new campers are set to grace the grounds this summer. It’s a recipe for reminiscence, and the version of myself that contentedly watched the second movie on a car ride is beside herself.
In recent years, the entertainment world has recognized that there’s truly nothing like a throwback. In October, the internet was abuzz with the dubious fate of Alex Russo after she sacrificed herself to save her family in the season finale of the Wizards Beyond Waverly Place, the remake of the seminal Selena Gomez classic. Miley Cyrus recently shared with Good Morning America that she might be planning something special for the 20th anniversary of Hannah Montana, and Netflix’s Cobra Kai drew new fans back to the original Karate Kid movies in a storm of ’80s euphoria with every season premiere. We just caught our first glimpse of Hero Fiennes Tiffin of After fame as a young Sherlock Holmes in an upcoming revitalization of the literary classic.
This Camp Rock reinvention feels especially appropriate; there’s something inherently summer camp-like about the nature of these revivals in the first place. Our love for them is based in nostalgia, often seasonal (Gilmore Girls Fall, anyone?), and fueled by the permanent possibility of our return.
When beloved characters are brought back to life, often a decade or two down the line from their initial end, they can be effectively immortalized in pop culture iconography.
We develop a special relationship with the media we grow up consuming – after all, being entrusted with the cosmic secret of Miley Cyrus’ alter ego before we were deemed responsible enough for the family Netflix password was a massive deal. When these retrospective milestones roll around and announcements for reboots and revivals are made, there's never really ever any doubt that OGs will tune in.
These reboots are often a one-time hit – the polarizing universes of And Just Like That and 2021’s Gossip Girl, both of which met early ends in spite of our generally ubiquitous interest in the life of Carrie Bradshaw and the snarky cultural underbelly of wealthy Upper East Siders, are evidence that beloved source material isn’t always enough to sway us into loving its return. Loyalty is often the cementing factor keeping us glued to shows as they stream, or to a single viewing of a reboot movie at the time of its release. But when we crave a fix of Gilmore Girls, we don’t tune into Rory and Logan’s extramarital affair à la A Year In The Life. We go back to the source material and reminisce on the days when we were all still Team Dean.
Critics online have expressed that Generation Z lacks their own Sex and the City, their own Friends or Girls. While discourse around the cultural permanence of new shows as they come out is bound to continue, the fact of the matter is streaming makes it easy for these throwbacks to have a continuous grip on the cultural zeitgeist. Gilmore Girls ended in 2007, and it continues to make the Top 10 streaming lists across platforms each year. We relish throwbacks, living in an era of times gone by.
It’s not as if these revivals are necessarily trumping our media consumption habits, either. Netflix’s current top 10 is overrun by the presence of every “Stranger Things” season, and HBO Max’s most popular list is studded with new shows that have provoked online chat like “Heated Rivalry” and “I Love LA.” These original hits seem to satiate a desire for original content that we undoubtedly crave, even if the rush of the internet makes it difficult to pin a particular film or show that defines a generation.
It’s also not unusual to see moaning and groaning online at the announcement of a newly revitalized Disney classic coming to the screen. In the wake of a subpar release weekend for animated original Elio, Pixar took to TikTok over the summer to suggest that critics “Stop complaining that Disney doesn’t make original stories if you don’t show up to movie theaters to support them in the first place.”
A general love of remakes undeniably coexists with a fatigue for them. Beyond the initial hype and reminiscence that reboot announcements can receive, it almost feels like there’s a tension between creator and consumer. We want more original content, but aren’t turning out for it as needed to make it worth the gamble, at least when it comes to the rapidly changing environment of film.
Nostalgic media might be a safer bet to ideate, and is undeniably easy to consume. But in an entertainment environment where some of the most viral hits are from the past or newly rehash it, where we’re already engaging with nostalgia to an extreme, what content can we plan on looking back on?
Eleanor Jacobs is PAPER's 2025 Fall Intern
Photos via Getty
