A Week Away

Imagine if the Disney Channel’s mid-2000s energy collided head-on with a suburban youth group lock-in. That is the exact molecular composition of A Week Away. Released in early 2021, a time when most of us were still staring at our four walls and dreaming of literally any outdoor gathering, this Netflix original arrived like a blast of processed sunshine. It didn’t ask for much—just 95 minutes of your time and a willingness to accept that teenagers in 2021 might spontaneously break into synchronized choreography to the hits of 1990s Contemporary Christian Music (CCM).

I’ll be honest: I watched this while trying to assemble a particularly spiteful IKEA bookshelf, and the upbeat tempo of the opening number was probably the only thing that kept me from throwing a hex key through my window. It’s that kind of movie—a bright, perky distraction that knows exactly what it’s trying to sell, even if you aren't usually the one buying.

The Jukebox of Grace

The plot is a trope-heavy "fish out of water" tale. Kevin G. Quinn, who looks like he was grown in a lab specifically to play the sensitive bad boy in a Netflix teen drama, stars as Will Hawkins. Will is a troubled orphan whose latest run-in with the law leaves him choosing between juvenile detention and a week at a Christian summer camp. Naturally, he chooses the camp, hides his "criminal" past, and immediately falls for Avery (Bailee Madison), the daughter of the camp director.

While the "troubled kid finds Jesus and a girl" arc is older than the hills, director Roman White—who has spent years directing music videos for the likes of Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood—gives the film a glossy, professional sheen that elevates it above the usual low-budget faith-based fare. The musical numbers are the real engine here. Instead of original songs, the film repurposes classic CCM tracks from artists like Steven Curtis Chapman and Amy Grant, giving them a modern, pop-heavy makeover. It’s essentially a liturgical version of Camp Rock, and I’m not even mad about it.

Campfire Chemistry and Sidekick Spark

The success of a movie like this rests almost entirely on whether you can tolerate the leads, and thankfully, Bailee Madison is a pro. Having grown up on screen in everything from Bridge to Terabithia to the horror-slasher The Strangers: Prey at Night, she brings a level of seasoned charisma that keeps Avery from feeling like a cardboard cutout. She and Kevin G. Quinn have a sweet, chaste chemistry that fits the "clean" vibe of the production perfectly.

However, as is often the case in these types of ensemble movies, the side characters actually steal the show. Jahbril Cook plays George, the nerdy camp veteran who becomes Will’s best friend, and his comedic timing is impeccable. His nervous courtship of Presley, played by Kat Conner Sterling, provides the most genuine laughs in the film. The choreography is surprisingly tight for a movie where the biggest rebellion is a hidden cell phone, and Cook and Sterling attack their dance numbers with a level of commitment that is genuinely infectious.

On the adult side, we get David Koechner (the legendary Champ Kind from Anchorman) and Sherri Shepherd. Seeing Koechner in a wholesome Christian camp setting is initially jarring—you keep waiting for him to yell "Whammy!"—but he leans into the "goofy dad" energy with surprising sincerity.

A Modern Take on an Old Formula

Reviewing A Week Away in the current streaming era requires acknowledging that this film is a very specific type of "content." It was designed to fill a gap in the Netflix library for "faith-adjacent" family programming, and it does that job with ruthless efficiency. It doesn't have the grit of a serious drama or the wit of a top-tier comedy, but it possesses a certain earnestness that is increasingly rare.

In an era of cynical, "meta" teen shows like Euphoria, there’s something almost rebellious about how un-cool A Week Away is. It isn't trying to be edgy. It isn't trying to subvert expectations. It’s trying to make you feel like you’re twelve years old again, eating a slightly burnt marshmallow and worrying about whether the person you have a crush on saw you trip during the relay race.

The film does struggle with its third-act conflict—the reveal of Will’s "dark secret" (which is really just that he’s an orphan who stole a police car once) feels a bit melodramatic. But for a movie that features a full-blown musical number in a cafeteria, you have to expect a certain level of cheese. It’s a film that prioritizes emotional safety and "belonging" over complex storytelling, which, given the cultural anxiety of the 2020s, might be exactly why it found such a large audience on streaming.

Ultimately, A Week Away is a well-oiled machine of wholesome entertainment. It doesn't reinvent the wheel, and it certainly won't convert anyone who isn't already a fan of the genre, but it’s a massive step up in quality for faith-based cinema. It’s a bright, tuneful, and entirely harmless way to spend an hour and a half, especially if you have a lingering nostalgia for the days of CCM radio and summer camp sunsets. If nothing else, it’s worth it just to see David Koechner try to lead a campfire singalong.