Matt (Matt Johnson) and Jay (Jay McCarrol) have never achieved their dream of playing Toronto bar the Rivoli. Cue their most harebrained scheme of all.
In the opening scene of Nirvanna The Band The Show The Movie – a sequence shot way back in 2008 – Matt Johnson, half of its central duo, declares: “What you’re about to see is something you’ve never seen before.” He’s imagining a grandiose opening for his not-even-really-a-band (it’s him, pal Jay and a piano) if they ever play at Toronto’s Rivoli. But it’s an apt description of the film itself: bonkers, brilliant, blisteringly funny and bittersweet, a true original whose mere existence is an act of sheer ingenuity.
Unusually for a comedy, the less you know the better. But the film takes its cues from Johnson (who directs, and previously helmed BlackBerry) and Jay McCarrol’s ’00s webseries, which spawned a TV show in the ’10s — and The Movie succinctly introduces their established dynamic. Johnson is the whirlwind ideas-fiend, whose outlandish schemes to achieve hyper-local stardom are buoyed by goofy charm. And McCarrol is — marginally — the wiser counterpart, energised by his friend’s enthusiasm. They’re lovably hapless; to play the Rivoli, you sense they could simply call and ask. Instead, they’d rather daydream stupidly big.
A monument to high-wire human creativity.
Cut to the present day, and a schism looms. The duo have nothing to show for their years of planning, sparking a last-ditch plot that sends things in a giddily unhinged direction, courtesy of a beloved ’80s blockbuster and a discontinued soda bottle. What follows is one of the funniest comedies in years, packed with full-body guffaws and still-tittering-five-minutes-later asides. A sequence involving Toronto’s CN Tower — shot vérité, with punky Jackass energy — is both hilarious and heart-in-mouth tense, with a comic pay-off for the ages. A scene in which Johnson clocks a shift in his surroundings — via an uncensored Black Eyed Peas song and an eye-watering The Hangover gag — is a genius moment of dawning realisation. And a ‘Chekhov’s Nerf gun’ punchline is a delightfully cruel jolt best experienced with an audience.
The construction of NTBTSTM — blending new footage with material shot nearly two decades ago — is mind-boggling to comprehend. To call it a miracle would be a disservice; rather, it stands as a monument to high-wire human creativity, powered by self-belief and enduring friendship. At its core, it’s a heartfelt, regret-tinged portrait of two ride-or-die pals — itself the glorious fruit of a real-world creative kinship. It’s a privilege to witness, the kind of cinema to make you shout: “Great Scott!”
An instant cult-classic comedy that should be seen with a rowdy crowd — and then cherished for years to come on repeated quote-along home viewings.
