In the olden days of MTV, back when retaining at least a little bit of anarchist edge mattered to programmers, the music network aired truly original programming during the late-night hours. And no, that doesn’t include “Behind the Scenes of ‘Behind the Scenes of TRL’.”

In the mid-1990s, “The State” appeared, disguised as a sketch comedy show, but in truth, the visualization of a sense of humor all its own. To some, the skits represented a new kind of tongue-in-cheek, outrageous comedy. And for others, well, “Mad TV” still attracts some unknowing viewers.

From the ashes of “The State” (home to such catch phrases as “I’m gonna dip my balls in it” and “I’m out of heeeeere”), rises “Wet Hot American Summer.” And despite a diagnosed case of limited screenings and little fanfare, the satire/comedy arrives on DVD primed for plenty of spins for those who “get” it.

The target for blank-faced angst probably looks quite familiar to any purveyor of the USA network’s late night programming. “Meatballs” and all its sequels provide the foundation for ’80s-related camp hijinks. Other movie-allusions pop up as well, with a bit more taste and class than the “Scary Movie” line of shotgun jokes and sledgehammer explanations. If you don’t see the connection, it’s OK. There’s another joke just ahead.

(However, just for advanced warning, look for a great homage to an infamous scene in “Rocky III” where Rocky and Apollo jump up and down in slow-motion on the beach – just another instance of Sylvester Stallone’s dramatic impact on popular culture.)

As for the film as a whole, the jokes, more often than not, hit their mark for those of us who think camp movies deserve their own Golden Globe category. Janeane Garofalo (one of the few non-“State” actors in the movie) stars as Camp Firewood counselor Beth in 1981 New England. She immediately becomes infatuated with physics professor Henry (David Hyde Pierce), taking care of that pesky need for narrative flow.

What really drives any camp movie, though, is the assortment of nubile counselors and outrageously stereotypical camp kids. Most of the actors revel in the “camp” value of their camp characters. Michael Showalter shines as Coop, a personification of a nickname if there ever was one. The sappy, bleeding heart, best-friend-but-wants-more adolescent both represents and pokes fun at the nice guy archetype.

And in the most dead-on and perversely funny portrayal, Paul Rudd runs roughshod over all the quirks and lines that screenwriters use to create the “bad boyfriend.” His lifeguard Andy oozes contempt as the film oozes contempt for those terrible B-movie character traits that just … won’t … die.

The film never engages enough to make you forget that this is a heartfelt attack of irony and parody. And many times, the jokes fall flat in efforts that most likely killed within this close-knit comedy troupe. An absurd little subplot involving a crazed Vietnam veteran and his talking can, although a rib on similar weirdness in ’80s comedies, provides more groans than knowing smirks. True fans of actors Showalter, Michael Ian Black and Joe Lo Truglio will remember the sketches didn’t always fly, either.

That’s the peril of teetering on the line of self-referencing. You either score or miss the mark – much like times in the rough-and-tumble world of hormone-prone cinematic camps of the ’80s.