Canoe trips across algae-infested lakes. Nightmare-inducing ghost stories around raging bonfires. Bug juice with actual bugs in it!

Ah, the cheery horrors of an old-school sleepaway camp. No wonder so many Hollywood luminaries have been shipping their kids off to New England for nearly eight weeks every summer — far from the privilege and polish of L.A. life and straight into the land of lanyards and communal childhood trauma.

Of course, today’s camps are different than they were during their salad days in the 1960s and ’70s — starting with the fact that they now serve actual salad, alongside healthy fare like pasta bars, soup stations and fresh fruit available all day long. Sure, there are still rickety bunk beds, poison ivy rashes and the occasional humiliating group shower. But at the higher-end camps, the kinds of exclusive compounds that practically have velvet ropes around the canteen, kids also can take digital media workshops, hone their gourmet skills in culinary arts classes and get coached in lacrosse by D1 athletes.

“The cabins are still pretty basic — there are no Egyptian cotton sheets or anything like that,” says Patti Roberts, aka The Camp Lady, who runs a summer camp advisory service for parents seeking to place their kids in just the right kind of character-building (but not too rustic) environment. But camps have upped their game in other ways, she goes on, particularly on the East Coast, where sleepaway programs have always been a much bigger deal. “A lot of them offer new activities, like pickleball or rock climbing, and many have gardens where they grow herbs and vegetables, which they utilize in their cooking classes.”

Camp Vega, for instance — the high-end all-girl sleepaway program in Maine where Sigourney Weaver and Vanessa Williams sent their daughters — grows its own organic produce for a kitchen that could put Spago to shame. Campers at Vega sup in the Skylight Dining Room, an airy, light-filled hall where breakfast is cooked to order and gluten-free options are plentiful. Trip Lake in Maine (where former Columbia TriStar chairman Mark Canton’s kids spent some time) and Keewaydin in Vermont (where former Disney chairman Michael Eisner’s offspring summered) are also known for their sumptuous made-from-scratch, locally sourced meals, among other amenities.

Other top-notch programs — like Camp Laurel, the coed sleepaway where Eddie Murphy’s kids bunked — are better known for their pro-level sports offerings than their cuisine (though the house-made chicken stir-fry on Laurel’s dinner menu sounds pretty tasty … yes, camps have menus now). That program boasts five full-sized playing fields, 15 tennis courts, a fully equipped gymnastics center and even a full-sized roller hockey arena. Brant Lake Camp in upstate New York — the all-boys program where Jerry Seinfeld sent his sons — is also supposed to be a sports nut’s nirvana, with nine outdoor basketball courts (glass backboards, natch) as well as two lighted feature courts, wall-climbing facilities and something called a gaga pit (apparently a scrappier, Israeli version of dodgeball).

Of course, for a lot of high-profile parents, the most important amenity any camp can offer is discretion and safety. That’s one reason there’s not much to say about Camp Wicosuta, other than that it’s tucked away at a secluded location in the New Hampshire mountains, allows visits by invitation only and is where Malia and Sasha Obama spent summers during their White House years.

One thing you won’t find at any of these places, though, are the ersatz tribal ceremonies and fake feather headdresses that used to be de rigueur at summer camp. “There aren’t any totem poles or other culturally appropriated elements,” notes Lauren Kasnett Nearpass, co-founder (and “Chief Happy Camper Officer”) of Summer 365, another camp advisory company. “And a lot of camps have modernized their names and changed a lot of their historical spirit days or events.”

Instead of faux-Indigenous rituals, camps today are offering something even more appealing, at least to parents on this status-obsessed coast: snob appeal. “There are certain camps that have an air of exclusivity,” says Roberts. “The process of getting in can feel very curated — like, ‘We’ll let you know if we have room for you.’ Honestly, it can sometimes feel a little like applying to a New York City private school.”

In more ways than one: “Tuition” at an exclusive high-end sleepaway camp can run as high as $17,000 a summer.

This story appeared in the July 23 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.