I just walked out of Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie, and I can say without hesitation: I have not laughed this hard in a movie theater in years — maybe ten. This wasn’t just occasional chuckles either. This was full-on, hysterical, can’t-catch-your-breath laughter, the kind that spreads through an entire audience until the whole room feels electric.
I saw it in a completely packed Friday-night screening in Toronto, and the energy honestly felt closer to a rock concert than a movie. People were erupting into laughter, clapping mid-scene, and reacting out loud in a way that’s incredibly rare nowadays. That alone tells you something about how special this movie is as a shared theatrical experience.
Directed by Matt Johnson, this is his follow-up to BlackBerry, a movie I already loved and still revisit through clips because of how sharp and rewatchable it is. That film showed Johnson could handle fast, smart storytelling and compelling performances. This one proves he can also deliver pure, explosive comedy. With BlackBerry and now this, he’s absolutely two-for-two — two home runs right out of the gate — and firmly on my radar as a director whose future projects will now be must-watch.
The premise itself is delightfully ridiculous: two best friends spend nearly two decades trying to land a gig at a Toronto venue- THE RIVOLI, only for their obsession to spiral into time travel chaos. From there, the movie becomes a wild genre mash-up — part buddy comedy, part time-travel adventure, part meta satire.
Tonally, it feels like a uniquely Canadian collision of influences. It has the absurd musical-comedy energy of Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny, the time-travel hijinks and reference density of Back to the Future, and its own deeply self-aware, fourth-wall-breaking style that makes it feel like a passion project bursting with personality.
What really elevates the film is its comedic writing. The gags aren’t just frequent — they’re incredibly clever and often tied to specific cultural moments. The sequences involving traveling back to the late 2000s produce some of the biggest laughs, especially when the movie plays with the era’s pop-culture landscape: who was famous, what we found funny at the time, and how quickly cultural relevance shifts. These jokes landed so hard that my theater was practically shaking with laughter.
There are also unforgettable set pieces — including one involving a wildly over-the-top stunt tied to the CN Tower — that perfectly capture the movie’s mix of ambition, absurdity, and local flavor.
Speaking of local flavor, the Toronto setting adds a huge layer of charm. Seeing streets, landmarks, and everyday locations that you recognize gives the movie a grounded authenticity. It feels deeply rooted in its city in a way that makes it uniquely personal and distinctly Canadian.
Performance-wise, the chemistry between Johnson and Jay McCarroll is the emotional backbone of the film. Their friendship feels completely genuine, which makes the story’s heartfelt moments land just as effectively as the jokes. Underneath all the chaos and comedic insanity is a surprisingly sincere story about persistence, friendship, and chasing creative dreams for years against ridiculous odds.
That balance — heartfelt and hilarious — is what ultimately makes the movie stand out. It’s not just funny for the sake of being funny; it feels like a scrappy, deeply personal project made by people who truly love what they’re doing. That passion radiates from every scene.
The biggest takeaway is simple: this is easily the funniest movie I’ve seen in recent memory, and it already feels like a strong contender for funniest of the year. It’s inventive, energetic, self-aware, and packed with unforgettable comedic moments.
One of the most mind-blowing aspects of the movie is simply how it was made. Walking out of the theater, I kept wondering how they actually pulled it off. The time-travel elements alone feel incredibly ambitious, especially the way past footage, different time periods, and real-world settings are blended together so seamlessly. On top of that, so much of the film appears to have been shot directly on the streets of Toronto in a way that feels almost guerrilla-style — like Matt Johnson and the crew just went out and captured chaos in real time while traffic and everyday life kept moving around them. It gives the movie an unpredictable, “how did they get away with this?” energy that makes the production itself feel like an incredible creative feat, not just a backdrop for the comedy.
Another fascinating layer to the film is realizing that this isn’t a concept that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The movie grows out of the long-running TV series Nirvanna the Band the Show, which Matt Johnson and Jay McCarroll have been building for years. You absolutely don’t need to have seen the show to understand or enjoy the movie — I hadn’t — but knowing this context makes the film’s ambition even more impressive. It helps explain how they were able to weave together older footage, long-running ideas, and newly shot material into a seamless time-travel story. Rather than feeling like a recently invented premise, the movie plays like the payoff to a creative project that’s been evolving for nearly a decade, which makes its scale, cleverness, and technical execution feel even more extraordinary.
If you love creative comedies that take big swings, break rules, and deliver nonstop laughs while still having genuine heart, this is an absolute must-see. Matt Johnson has firmly established himself as a filmmaker to watch, and if this streak continues, he’s only just getting started.
Nirvana The Show The Band The Movie 88/100
