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I had high hopes for Y2K, sketch comedian Kyle Mooney’s foray into horror-comedy, but the result is a frustrating mishmash that has no idea how to have a good time. The hook promises some silly, junky fun: On New Year’s Eve in 1999, computer geek Eli (Jaeden Martell) decides to attend the big party with his buddy Danny (Julian Dennison), where he plans to make a move on his longtime crush, Laura (Rachel Zegler). But things go south when the much-feared Y2K bug comes to fruition, not just short-circuiting all electronic gizmos, but triggering a unified rise of the machines to kill all humans. Superbad techno slasher? Count me in! But by the time the credits roll, Y2K is a muddled, undercooked effort that leans too heavily on limp (Bizkit) satire and grungy moodiness rather than silly fun.
Let’s start with what works, because there are glimmers here, particularly in the party in the opening half hour. The teen ensemble cast is mostly quite good. Martell and Dennison have a breezy camaraderie. Zegler is deeply charming and overqualified as the girl-next-door crush. The Kid Laroi plays the role of d-bag bully to a T.
The best stretch of the film comes right after the countdown to midnight with the promised the madcap spree of violence. Possessed home appliances go on a violent rampage, with lots of creative goriness — fans shooting blades into skulls, garbage disposals chewing up limbs, microwaves frying faces. (Notably and strangely, none of these are computers, but the sequence is fun enough that this didn’t bug me.) It’s the unhinged visual energy the rest of the movie sorely lacks, but for a few minutes, Y2K captures the anarchic energy its pitch promises.
That energy is fleeting, and the movie falters almost immediately afterwards by fumbling its control of tone and character development. A couple of characters die off too early. Two of the most interesting figures, stoners played by Daniel Zolghadri and Lachlan Watson, get more screen time and thematic focus as the movie progresses and Mooney gives up on figuring out what to do with the Zegler-Martell romance. Zolghadri, in particular, is delightful as an alt-rap loving dirtbag with a strange screen presence, and every scene with him feels alive in a way the main storyline does not. If I were casting the lead of an off-beat coming-of-age dramedy, his agent would be first in my Rolodex. By contrast, the supposed leads never get much depth past the their initial sketches. Martell broods, Zegler looks concerned, rinse, repeat.
Zegler, by the way, deserves better than this. It’s time for her to pull a Zoey Deutch and focus on smaller, quirkier projects and steer clear of IP schlock. She has a knack for elevating the mediocre material given her, but she’s stuck as an underdeveloped love interest here.
The plot’s teen comedy opening act pivots to a gloomier survival story in its second half. It leans more into its horror-thriller genre label, but not an especially energetic one. It’s baldly satirical, but not cleverly so, like a half-assed Scream minus a Ghostface or any of that franchise’s wit. The metaphor is obvious: society in 2000 was on the verge of becoming more complicated and destructive as devices and networks increasingly control our lives. But the tone is over-exertive and dour, neither fun nor clever minus a few gags. (There is one centerpiece cameo in the third act, which I won’t spoil because it’s treated as a surprise, that is the stupidest contribution to cinema in 2024.)
It’s especially frustrating, too, because the fixes to Y2K are so glaringly obvious. For starters, stretch the big violent set piece of the machines rising from five minutes to twenty-five. Keep the action inside the house party for most of the duration, as its well-lit and decorated with circa-2000 production design. Get some more mileage from the pop-up scares of living appliances and dole out the gnarly kills. And, more than anything else, lean into the comedy. More elaborate set pieces, more gags, more nostalgic production, more needle drops, fewer brooding interludes. (In a dumb and lampshaded subversion, the climax is scored to “Faith” by George Michael, a song from 1987.)
Ultimately, Y2K feels like a half-hearted draft of a movie. Mooney and co-writer Evan Winter clearly decided halfway through that they care more about the rap-rock potheads whose story starts as the C-plot than they do the ostensible leads. They probably should have scrapped this script entirely and build a new one from scratch around Zolghadri and Watson and co. if that’s what they were drawn to. Or maybe I’m a dumb-dumb and that gradual shift from vanilla teen leads to counter-culture losers is the point. If so, it doesn’t register as anything other than sloppy storytelling. Regardless, the script probably could have lost about 498 of its 500 Limp Bizkit jokes in the revision process and not have been any worse off.
Is It Good?
Not Very Good (3/8)
Dan is the founder and head critic of The Goods. Follow Dan on Letterboxd. Join the Discord for updates and discussion.