Kyle Mooney’s Y2K is an ambitious exploration of millennial nostalgia filtered through the chaos of an apocalyptic teen comedy. Drawing heavily from the turn-of-the-millennium aesthetic, Mooney’s directorial debut blends quirky humor, vivid callbacks to ’90s pop culture, and a wildly unexpected plot twist that turns a familiar setup on its head. But while the film bursts out of the gate with charm and creativity, it struggles to sustain its momentum, leaving a mixed impression of what could have been a nostalgic and genre-defying romp.

The setup is classic coming-of-age fare. Eli (Jarden Martell) and Danny (Julian Dennison) are high school misfits on a quest to score an invitation to the hottest New Year’s Eve party in town. The promise of romance with the unattainable Laura (Rachel Zegler) is the driving force, while Dennison’s natural charisma infuses the opening scenes with infectious energy. The film’s first act feels comfortably familiar, with its clever callbacks to Tamagotchis, AIM away messages, and the turn-of-the-century paranoia that makes Y2K an ideal time capsule.

But then, the ball drops—literally and figuratively. The Y2K bug comes to life in the most absurd way imaginable, triggering a chain reaction of chaos as technology rebels against humanity. Mooney leans fully into the ridiculousness, unleashing a blend of body horror and slapstick comedy as household appliances and gadgets turn deadly. This tonal shift is as bold as it is jarring, marking the film’s most creative stretch. The house-party massacre is a standout sequence, packed with inventive carnage and biting humor.

Unfortunately, Y2K struggles to capitalize on this momentum. The characters thinned out by the sudden violence are replaced with less compelling figures, and the second half devolves into meandering survival antics. While the film’s irreverent humor and Mooney’s self-aware stoner character inject moments of levity, the pacing falters, and the novelty of the premise begins to wear thin. Nostalgic references—once a fun nod to the era—start to feel repetitive and hollow.

Fred Durst’s late-game cameo as a reluctant mentor provides a much-needed jolt of energy. His self-deprecating humor and willingness to lean into his turn-of-the-millennium persona are highlights, but even his presence can’t entirely rescue the film’s sagging second act. By the time the story wraps, Y2K feels like a series of clever ideas that never quite coalesce into a satisfying whole.

What’s frustrating is the sense that Mooney’s previous works, like Brigsby Bear and Saturday Morning All-Star Hits!, better balanced their satirical and sentimental impulses. Those projects offered deeper commentary on the era they celebrated, while Y2K feels content to coast on surface-level nostalgia. The film flirts with themes of humanity’s uneasy relationship with technology but never fully commits to exploring them, leaving a hollow center at the heart of its chaos.

Ultimately, Y2K is a bold experiment with flashes of brilliance but an uneven execution. Mooney’s knack for absurd humor and cultural callbacks shines, and the film’s willingness to take risks is commendable. But its lack of focus and reliance on nostalgia make it a missed opportunity. For all its chaos and callbacks, Y2K leaves you longing for something more substantive beneath its neon-lit surface.

Rating: ☆☆☆