Nimrods

There are numerous Green Day tribute acts – Green Daze, Green Haze, Green182, American Idiotz to name a few – but Nimrods represents the first tribute film. With the story based on and co-penned by the group, who also appear in bookending cameos, Lee Kirk’s amiable road movie uses Green Day’s spirit to fashion a formulaic but fun and scrappy love song to youthful dreamers, big aspirations, and the thrill of rocking out with your best friends. 

Nimrods follows three teens – normie Tommy (Mason Thames), comedian (Kylr Coffman), nebbish Chad (Ryan Foust) – who have their own band, Analogue Dogs (often mispronounced ‘Anal Dogs’). After Green Day arrive in town for a signing and the boys slip them a demo tape, the friends are pranked by Tommy’s brother Wayne (Keen Ruffalo, son of Mark) who tells them their heroes have asked Analogue Dogs to open for them in California on New Year’s Eve. Somehow with no car, driving licences or money, a road trip begins. 

It’s a familiar set-up that becomes a flimsy throughline to hang a series of escapades. So, the boys play in a rowdy biker bar (shades of The Blues Brothers), detour to a drug-fuelled party and spend a night in a scary motel. En route, there are fallings out, reconciliations, a thin but winning romance with a rock chick (McKenna Grace), all interspersed with grainy home video footage to amp up the punky, DIY vibes.

It’s that kind of movie: obvious but sweet-natured and enjoyable

It’s hokey (kids sneaking into gigs rarely rings true) and too long for its slight premise, but where Nimrods wins is in the central trio. The characters’ love of analogue allows the film to refreshingly dispense with cell phones and Snapchat, centering the actors’ easy chemistry. Froust gives good nerd as a kid caught between the push of his parents and the pull of rock ’n’ roll and Coffman brings fun to the joker in the pack (‘Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny’) but this is Thames’ movie. 

Previously seen in The Black Phone movies and the live-action How To Train Your Dragon, he anchors the movie, rounding out a sketchy teen hero with subtlety and authenticity. Towards the end of the film, he shares a quietly affecting scene with Ruffalo that suggests there might be a more nuanced film buried in all the staple situations.  

The Green Day of it all is mostly present in a wall-to-wall soundtrack. It doesn’t need a hardcore fan to figure out the film will end with a warm, reflective montage to the still gorgeous ‘Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)’. It’s that kind of movie: obvious but sweet-natured and enjoyable. 

In UK and Ireland cinemas on Aug 11 only.