Y2K (now transmitting in VOD facilities as Amazon Prime Video) is the equivalent of the phrase’s film: “Hey, don’t you forget the sneakers’ pimps?” The former Snler Kyle Mooney writes and directs this young comedy/kitsch hybrid founded on his strong nostalgia for the births of the 90s, the sensitive mastantal monsters. In theory, feel this movie very strong if you have ever thrown CD of alerally Aol garbage, or enjoyed hating Bizkit, or waited two minutes for a pixepast symbol of bare breasts to load on the Internet. On the surface, there is a story in this film, if you can wade through the referential disorder to locate it.
The Gist: SkreeeeeeechchchchccgongGONGgong goes the dial-up modem. Eli (Jaeden Martell) chats with two people on AOL Instant Messenger, Laura (Rachel Zegler), the girl he’s crushing on, and Danny (Julian Dennison), his bestie. Maybe he and the latter will find a way to get to the big NYE turn-of-the-millennium bash so he and the former can maybe kindle a little sumpin-sumpin. But it doesn’t seem feasible, so they just hit the video store (hey, remember video stores?) to rent a movie and then the convenience store for “a coupla cans of Surge” (hey, remember Surge?) for a boring night at home. But then Eli realizes Rachel broke up with her boyfriend, so they say F it and bust the lock on the parents’ liquor cabinet, get lubricated and head to the party, singing Chumbawamba (hey, remember Chumbawamba?) all the way.
On the spree, they have a keen eye for cliques known for their musical flavor: swing revival kids, nu-metal kids, hip-hop kids, electronic kids (hey, don’t forget all the music trends). ?), etc. Eli chats with Laura, who is cute and wise because she designed the school website, but her ex gets hit, and the Puka-Shell necklace she wears tells us that she’s a brother who probably cried when Bradley Nowell died and then had trouble updating Sublime with Sugar Ray on his CDS combine (Hey, Don’t forget the CDS combine?). Then the countdown occurs. The brother kisses Laura and Eli doesn’t kiss anyone, so the force goes away. Now, hey, don’t forget when everyone was worried about the Y2K virus wreaking havoc in late midnight in the year 2000?Well, that didn’t happen and the commotion was a failure. Hey, don’t forget?
Which videos will it remind you of?: Superbad is the reference of the day for all teen comedies of the last five years. So take it and clumsily weld it to an edition of the Short Circuit trading universe where Johnny Five is the Terminator. If you’re looking for the “real” story of the year 2000 panic, check out the 2024 HBO documentary Time Bug Y2K. )
Performances to watch: Mooney plays a white guy with dreadlocks and Birkenstocks, and that’s the closest thing to a funny thing in this movie, which is just plain funny. And so it goes.
Memorable Dialogue: Danny and Eli discuss Laura’s romantic availability:
Danny: Are you sixty -nine, this school boy?
ELI: Community College.
Danny: Okay, then you can get an associate’s degree in sixty-nine.
Sex and Skin: Glimpses of porn, partially clothed teens makin’ out.
Our Take: Let’s start with what’s good about Y2K – and don’t worry, it won’t take long: The robot-monsters are amusingly horrific junkpiles of practical effects, brought to life via animatronics, some throwback-y stop-motion animation and the occasional Sam Raimi-ism. Otherwise, this movie spends more time wedging in rainstick gags, N64 references and Alicia Silverstone cameos (she plays Eli’s mom) to tell a coherent story, develop a character or even deliver a decent joke.
The screenplay is flimsy and sloppy, Mooney seemingly slapping together a tryhard look-ma wannabe cult comedy of the type that was ignored in theaters only to be revived via video-rental and cable reruns, two methods allowing viewers to be drunk or stoned in the comfort of their own homes, and therefore vulnerable to laughing at things that don’t really deserve it. Mooney doesn’t bother to commit to anything, a tone (is it OTT or satire?), a cast member’s specific talents (Martell is an earnest type in the Nicolas Hoult or Daniel Radcliffe vein) or a decent running gag (regular Limp Bizkit references ain’t that). It practically disintegrates on the screen while we watch it.
Once all hell breaks loose, the characters make their way through a half-shrug of a plot that barely sustains a 90-minute run time and doesn’t seem interested in leaning into gory displays of violence, elements of raunchy teen sex comedies or any of that fun stuff. I mean, why do anything memorable when you can stand around remembering Tamagotchis or whatever? Y2K could’ve been all about, say, Eli’s quest to lose his virginity with Laura before the world ends, and we might be endeared to it. But that’s an actual idea, and this movie doesn’t really have any of those.
John Serba is an independent film critic founded in Grand Rapids, Michigan.