Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie
(Canada, 98 min.)
Dir. Matthew Johnson
Programme: Midnight Madness (Canadian premiere)
It’s a testament to the gonzo go-for broke gumption that the guys of Nirvanna: The Band the Show the Movie bring us along for the ride so riotously well. This movie features time travel and a Back to the Future-inspired RV fuelled by the 1990s’ gelatinous beverage Orbitz. (Remember that?) However, they commit so hard to the bit and the film’s mockumentary aesthetic that I frequently gasped, winced, and held my breath, wondering if stars were going to be arrested, maimed, or worse during a shot. The film straddles the imperceptible line between artistry and lunacy to deliver a bonkers tale of enduring friendship, rooted firmly in the lived experience of Torontonians in the (mostly) present moment.
Matthew Johnson and Jay McCarrol star as fictional-ish variations of themselves in the ambitious addition to their web series and TV series Nirvanna the Band the Show. Going into the movie with a blank slate is perfectly okay, since it works as a standalone feature. It continues the running bit that Matt and Jay desperately want to book a gig at Toronto’s Rivoli bar on Queen West. But with some money from the success of BlackBerry in their pockets, the stakes are higher and laughs are bigger.
The friends concoct an audaciously illogical plan to announce their Rivoli concert by parachuting from the top of the CN Tower, landing into a Bay Jays’ game at the neighbouring SkyDome, and telling the crowd to catch some tunes just a few blocks away. The gamble is wild, but Nirvanna’s penchant for stealing from daily life works wonders here. Johnson, McCarrol, and their cinematographer Jared Raab—something of an ever-present offscreen character—form Toronto’s equivalent to the Jackass crew as they root their story in the mundane comedy of street life and Toronto’s urban character. The clandestine nature of the production proves as nerve-wracking as it does gut-bursting, though, when the skydiving plan involves sneaking parachutes into the tower and buying a ticket for the SkyWalk tour—the event that lets tourists stroll along the top of the tower with the protection of a harness.
What ensues is a truly zany set-piece that could easily inspire a few arrests if audiences get the same idea. But Canada can’t really afford Tom Cruise-level stunts, so the only plausible excuse for a viewer while taking it all is that Matt and Jay are actually jumping off the landmark. The film’s laugh-per-minute ratio, however, really lets the stunt punch way above its pay scale. (The film also doubles down on the series’ habit for treading the line between fair use and copyright infringement in very funny ways even though the guys can probably pay some royalties.)
But the idiocy of the stunt forces a rift between the friends, who soon find themselves back in 2008 thanks to some lightning and leftover Orbitz. The guys strike lightning in a bottle, though, as Matt and Jay circa 2008 saunter through Queen West like Forrest Gump in historic moments. Lo-hi archival shots of urban life in the city mix seamlessly with digital effect to de-age the stars as Matt and Jay try to correct their course so that they can return to the Rivoli. All of which explodes with perhaps the most uproariously shocking plot twist since Brad Pitt’s exit from Burn After Reading.
It’s a film that could only be done by this motley crew, too, as Johnson, McCarrol and their collaborators have comedic synergy that caters to the in-the-moment improvisational style. Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie uses its fine eye for the quirks of Toronto life to keep audiences grounded. Off-the-cuff jokes about that car hanging out of the wall of 299 Queen Street West as a “could have been worse” parking reference, or a well-time Jian Ghomeshi joke, root Matt and Jay’s outlandish fixation for playing the Rivoli in a community spirit that draws audiences into the joke too, while making passersby part of it whether they like it or not.
The Jackass/Borat-style integration of street life has a typically Canadian charm, too, as Johnson, McCarrol, and company don’t ever make the passersby the butt of the joke. Rather, the film draws people into the joke with a shared recognition that such out-of-this-world stuff isn’t that unreal on Queen Street these days. From the web-like mess of TTC streetcar wires to Torontonians’ inability to recognize the city’s own stars on their home turf, this is a movie that could only be made here in Toronto.
