Dear Moviegoers,
Look, I get it. I remember what it was like to be an idealistic teenager. I can recall identifying with music and holding up musicians as heroes. And I love seeing concerts in movies. In good movies. Butter in…
Wait.
The pop-punk band Green Day did, indeed, provide some fun listening before I turned into my teens, looking up to my older brother's tape collection and all. Mud-slinging at nostalgia-driven concerts, music inspired by generational shifts and current events, and, of course, catchy lyrics that made us all bounce and nod in sync - the memories, I tell you. However "awesome" they were and still are, a motion picture based around them and what they represent to contemporary kids, I must admit, is a bit cheesy, and profoundly so.
It's called Nimrods, and appropriately so. Three high schoolers who have a Green Day-inspired band they call "Analog Dogs" are easily fooled into believing that they'll open for their heroes in a concert on New Year's Eve in Los Angeles. This kicks off a semi-wacky road trip of frustration and confusion, at least for those watching. We're led to believe that this gullible trio, who, I will agree, work well together as a threesome of proud and collectively self-absorbed young almost adults, are having the time of their lives that will resonate across the audience's board. While I can't speak for the few who viewed it in theaters, I can say that, for me, this movie fell on its face, straight over my bored - so to speak.
Fun cameos from The Office duo Jenna Fischer and Angela Kinsey, plus an overlong but well-performed sketch with Fred Armisen, made some of the raw feelings of dreadful dislike for the duration somewhat tolerable, Fischer especially. There's a very minor sub-plot of the movie's lead and his family dealing with the death of their father, and the awkwardness of confronting the reality of moving forward without him. Out of the shameful and near classless use of rock song cues - which I suppose HAD to happen - and poor efforts in manufacturing excitement, this family dynamic between sons and mother and brother to brother are, absolutely, interesting. Terrific, even.
Too are moments when the group's naive dumbassery is fully fleshed out through reality checks from adults, like a concert security guard or, yes, Fred Armisen's motel manager. These are low-hanging fruits, but I take what I can get. And a lovely performance from Mckenna Grace, specifically when she consoles a scared and mushroom-high punk, had my heart from second to second. In fact, the ending, which acts as a curtain bow from the cast, taking place at a makeshift outdoor hangout spot, is the high point of Nimrods, because it's genuine and sweet, and not because the whole thing has met its end.
Look, I get it. I'm forty years old and, while still as uncomfortable and goofy as I was in my teenage daze, can only look forward to doctor appointments and familiar things. The fact that Green Day still makes people feel complete does give me chills. The good kind. And yet, an entire movie of misfits and mistakes, surrounded by the sounds of the band's hits, doesn't pack the same punch as it would've when I went day-to-day carrying a portable CD Walkman. Is this the movie's problem? No, but it becomes MY problem when the movie sucks. And Nimrods sucks.
Sorry, kids.
Sorry, past me.
1.5/5