by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
My experience watching Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie had me at a loss for words. I may be speaking prematurely, but there is zero doubt in my mind that Matt Johnson’s latest picture will stand atop as the pinnacle of the mockumentary genre in 2026 upon theatrical release. What separates Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie from other films blanket general is the degree to which the filmmakers are willing to dream. Rivaled only by Bi Gan’s Resurrection in this regard, no other film in 2025 widens its creative ambitions and scope to the extent that this film does. It is a movie that is all but daring itself to see what it can get away with on camera, producing a spectacle so cinematic that the viewer is left with no choice but to guffaw at the utter mania of its ramshackled plot. This was certainly the reaction among the fedora-wearing audience members around me, a visible indicator signaling many of whom were primed to expect a familiar dosage of farce present in the film’s storied predecessor, Nirvana the Band the Show.
Both iterations of Nirvana the Band the Show in the original web series and the Viceland sequel series were cultural blind spots for me, but this matters surprisingly little in the grand scheme of things. While fans of the series can revel in reuniting with the characters they love, knowing nothing allows for the movie’s biggest surprises to leave a most memorable impression. I had a similar experience watching Chainsaw Man – The Movie: Reze Arc, another film with a rabid fanbase and a companion piece to preexisting material that originated from a different artistic medium. Both films work superbly well on their own merits, while paying respect to their precursory art forms. The end result of which is a confident regaling of stories that feel true to the interior lives of the characters, a facet all the more impressive when serving as my introductory point.
For as much as I liked Chainsaw Man – The Movie, Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie takes its approach to a whole other level. Reze Arc is an adaptation of its source manga. Essentially an elongated episode of the series, this gives the film a sense of stabilization in having a clear narrative direction to aim for in between seasons of Chainsaw Man hitting the airwaves. Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie finds itself in a similar situation, as Season Three of the TV series is currently pending release, but the rationality of its narrative text is anything but stable. Without anything to adapt, the film embraces the creative roots of the original series. This means tripling down on the series’ patented improvisational style and mockumentary structure. Having now dipped my toe into both versions of the show after the fact, this is even clearer with hindsight. Reze Arc is not without its fair share of chaotic storytelling by nature of the world it is set in, but Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie uses its story to evolve beyond its established universe to reach new heights of radical euphoria on par with the best films of 2025.
The “franchise” appeal of Nirvana the Band, which gestated in the evolutionary process from web series, to television, to feature film, exists in name only. Spiritually the legacy of all things Nirvana the Band resembles that of Curb Your Enthusiasm, the entire premise of which puts the spotlight on Larry David as the focal center of its world, and trusts that the audience will go along with it due to the cultural osmosis engendered by a decade of Seinfeld. This movie puts a similar level of trust that we, too, will follow its unorthodox narrative, because like Curb, shepherding the viewer in front of the camera is a pair of comedic misfits so funny that you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. There is an offbeat energy that bleeds its way into the film through the magnetic force of personality conjured by duo Matt Johnson and Jay McCarroll playing fictionalized versions of themselves. As the sole members of fictitious music group Nirvana The Band, Matt and Jay prove why this universe has persisted for 17 years up to this point. With this film, Johnson and McCarroll have been cemented as must-watch comedic geniuses that are worth the price of admission.
When I think of names who fall into that same category, it is a rare but talented stock company. It didn’t take long before I began making mental comparisons between Johnson and McCarroll to the work of Nathan Fielder, Bo Burnham, Tim Robinson, and John Wilson. Their collective output can simply be described as often hilarious, unwaveringly bold, never dull, and always inventive. And yet Johnson and McCarroll fit into the pack seamlessly. Their film shares an earnest love for its setting akin to How to with John Wilson’s relationship with New York City. The way Toronto, Ontario, Canada is photographed can’t help but feel so indescribably warm and familiar, while also adding to the size of the picture. Like Bo Burnham’s Inside, the film has a musical backdrop that is foundational in upholding its central relationship, and is depicted with a real passion for its characters, even if they are arguably lacking in talent or drive. Johnson and McCarroll also share an inherent aggression found in the works of Tim Robinson (Friendship, The Chair Company, I Think You Should Leave) that feels downright uncontrollable. And as for Nathan Fielder, I’d argue no film in recent memory has come this close to evoking the same level of disbelief that The Curse or The Rehearsal cause as Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie does.
Word of mouth for this movie coming out of its premiere at South by Southwest was especially strong. Based on the breadth of the acclaim it had received, I was all but anticipating a modern cult classic. After all, surely it was no coincidence that my screening of Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie was paired as a double feature with Hundreds of Beavers. Though I did laugh plenty, what took me by surprise aside from the specificity of the jokes was the emotional resonance between our titular leads, and the sheer scale constructed to act as the backdrop for those moments. No comedy in recent memory, with the exception of Everything Everywhere All At Once, has the imagination to reach for the ungraspable.
Something I don’t see enough of in contemporary movies is the feeling of genuine surprise. There are plenty of great stories being told, but only a select few in a given year have the initiative to feel fresh. Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie is one of those select few. And for as much effort is put into getting the audience to laugh for 90 straight minutes, the film doesn’t shortchange itself by forgoing an emotional arc. All the extraneous effort Johnson and McCarroll go through is also in service of getting the audience to care about a pair of slackers who arrive at a crossroads in their friendship. To reckon with the idea of time gone by chasing the dreams of your youth and having little to show for it. Similar ideas have been explored elsewhere, but this is a film 17 years in the making. Meaning it has the emotional bandwidth capable of making a few small touches of sentimentality go a long way when arriving at its climatic finale. It feels safe to say Nirvana the Band the Show the Movie is a form-shattering spectacle on just about every level. Akin to catching lightning in a bottle, it does so by fully committing to the medium it’s playing with. Because never has the mockumentary subgenre felt so monumentally big on screen.
Rating: High Side of Loved It
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