On December 31st, 1999, we were convinced technology would bring about our destruction. 24 years later, it appears to actually, if slowly, be achieving that. Of course, back then, we believed that it would happen because of the Y2K bug – that machines unable to transmit the year 2000 in their systems would cause chaos within previous reliable digital infrastructures. This wound up being fixable, clearly. Now, in 2024, with the popularization of AI and our growing social dissociation through reliance on smartphones and tablets, it feels as though we are past the point of no return. We went from a glitch in the system to the system being the glitch. Can we still fight back?
According to SNL alum Kyle Mooney, we can and we should. In his directorial debut, Y2K, the comedian explores the titular event as the impetus for the techpocalypse. Set on New Year’s Eve in 1999, Eli and Danny (Jaeden Martell and Julian Dennison) are two local losers who strike the nerve to hit up a local house party. However, when the clock strikes midnight, machines become sentient and begin terrorizing the attendees, from rogue blenders to sentient RC cars. It turns out Y2K activated a malicious AI consciousness that is set on harvesting human brain power and taking over the world. Alongside a group of fellow outcasts, including Eli’s mega crush, Laura (Rachel Zegler), the two are set on raging against the machines and saving their town.
It’s a deceptively brilliant premise, using the framework of a sophomoric disaster flick a la This Is The End but infused with the technobabble and digital aesthetics of ‘80s and ‘90s science fiction. The film even dabbles in old-school monster movies with the inclusion of large robots made out of fused-together household tech. Achieved practically through both production design and stop-motion animation, they set the film up for what could be an exciting indictment of technology overload, an anti-AI story for the modern day but told with instantly nostalgic ‘90s flair. However, the remaining film fails to deliver on this promise and culminates in a disappointingly low-budget and low-ambition comedy that, while filled with laughs, is an ultimately empty homage.
Following the kinetic house party sequence, Mooney points his focus on his cast of characters, all of whom are uninspired offshoots of the familiar archetypes. Martell, who can’t seem to lead a film where he isn’t riding a bicycle down a suburban street, plays the nerd-who-slowly-gains-confidence but without the charm or charisma of a leading man. Dennison is the heavyset, lowkey obnoxious best friend and carries much of the comedic weight, but his charm wears out fast for reasons we dare not spoil here.
Zegler, as talented as she is, isn’t given much to work with as the “nerdy” computer genius who also happens to be popular. Her romance with Martell is built on very little beyond basic beats and minimal chemistry. The true cast stand-outs are Lachlan Watson and Daniel Zolghadri as a bully and stoner who find an unlikely friendship. Watson especially carries the film in its third act, providing a strong supporting turn that ought to get them booked and busy.
It’s a relatively small ensemble (including Mooney himself in a small comic role) that keeps things intimate and character-driven, but what are they driving toward? The film’s plot hops forward from place to place but without much scaling of the story in terms of stakes or challenges. By the time we reach the climax, in which Danny and Laura are forced to fight the AI while the rest of the crew distracts the surrounding cronies, it all feels a bit too easy. Much of this comes from Mooney’s instinct to keep his absurdist stories on ground level (see: Brigsby Bear), but its inciting sequence would have you believe the film has the capability to let loose. For all the practical effects and creature design and even gruesome kills, there is little fight choreography or even collateral damage by the end. The kind of all-out fight for humanity that caps off fan-favorite apocalypse films like Shaun of the Dead is surprisingly absent, intentional or otherwise.
A silly, world-ending comedy without philosophical ambitions is far from a mortal sin, nor is giving millennial audiences the outrageous generational comedy they’ve never gotten. Y2K is coated in references, from beloved needle drops to classic films to even a shout-out to Tipper Gore. It’s a loving, if perhaps bait-y tribute to a unique era, but that alone does not a quality movie make. For those outside of the Gen Y spectrum, or those who are less fond of the era, what remains is a film that accidentally stumbles on an excellent conceit but lacks follow-through. Even then, the movie does so little groundwork that it’s hard to know if those unfamiliar with Y2K will understand the implications before the movie stakes its entire foundation onto them. But that’s okay – much like Y2K, by the time the movie is over, those who haven’t fallen for its charms will quickly forget them.
Y2K had its World Premiere at SXSW 2024 in the Headliners section. It will be released on a date yet to be determined courtesy of A24.
Director: Kyle Mooney
Screenwriters: Kyle Mooney and Evan Winter
Rated: NR
Runtime: 93m
Y2K is a fun time at the movies but little else, wasting the potential of an insightful indictment of technology on thin characters and unambitious plotting.
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GVN Rating
Larry Fried is a filmmaker, writer, and podcaster based in New Jersey. He is the host and creator of the podcast “My Favorite Movie is…,” a podcast dedicated to helping filmmakers make somebody’s next favorite movie. He is also the Visual Content Manager for Special Olympics New Jersey, an organization dedicated to competition and training opportunities for athletes with intellectual disabilities across the Garden State.
