One of the funny little indignities of life is that as men hit their 50s, reaching a stage when many are at their arguable peak of knowledge, responsibility, and respectability, their lives increasingly revolve around what goes into and comes out of their asses. Between prostate exams, colonoscopies, and an emphasis on being told to eat more fiber, getting serious about your health can be both ridiculous and humbling, with no amount of status or wealth sparing men from the ritual humiliation. So, in a sense, the Jackass movies have long been ahead of the curve. Over the course of nearly 30 years the mostly male cast of cackling human crash dummies have been shoving things up their butts — most memorably, a toy car for the purposes of astonishing a strip mall X-Ray technician — and leaving themselves in stitches over the seemingly endless possibilities of toilet humor. But what began as an insurgent basic cable TV show in the early aughts has endured as a long-running, much beloved (in certain circles anyway) film franchise that has existed long enough for most of these aspiring skate punks and backyard stuntmen to mature into middle age. Well, perhaps “mature” is a poor word choice. The main ensemble are noticeably grayer, fatter, move more slowly, and in general display all the telltale signs of aging — now when the beloved Steve-O removes all of his clothing for the purposes of firing a ping-pong ball from his anus, he keeps his glasses on to help him see the bullseye — but they’re still treating their bodies like a carnival ride. And yes, that includes rooting around in each other’s bums, only they’re now of an age where there’s the faintest glimmer of legitimate purpose to the act.
The sweetly autumnal and reflective to a fault fifth and final installment in the series, Jackass: Best and Last finds the surviving cast (original member Ryan Dunn was killed in a car crash in 2011) stepping back into the breach one final time while also taking it relatively easy on their broken bodies in consideration of the fact that, to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, they are “too old for this shit.” Reportedly filmed over a few weeks this past spring, the film is even more slapdash than usual; padding out new misadventures with clips from the earlier films and long-buried, “too extreme for television” segments that both demonstrate how far the series has come while also filling the void created by de facto ringleader Johnny Knoxville no longer being willing to launch himself from a trebuchet. From the safety of a movie theater, it’s easy to carp about how many of the segments allow the guys to remain in a seated position or don’t seem to invite permanent bodily harm, but it’s hard to complain that you’re not getting your money’s worth in a film that opens with unearthed footage of a twenty-something Knoxville (still being addressed by his given initials of “P.J.”) firing live ammunition into his own chest to test a bulletproof vest.
But the Knoxville of 2026 is 55, a father of three, and over his lifetime has been rode hard and put away wet (the film replays the most horrifying segment of 2022’s Jackass Forever, where the performer was diagnosed with a brain hemorrhage after being thrown into the air by a bull), and the film presents him as the architect of calling it quits. The film engages at length with the sense of finality, allowing the cast in the film’s frequent down moments to wistfully look back on their life’s work with a level of emotional candor that runs the gamut. One of the team’s newer members, who’s simply credited as “Poopies,” is shown on the brink of tears at the idea of this all going away, while the frequently undressed party boy Chris Pontius deflects with trademark flippancy that he’s not sad because he’s not “in touch with my emotions” (and it must be said much of the cast demonstrates a healthy amount of skepticism that this is indeed the end).
Let’s assume the film’s intentions are pure and this is indeed the last dance — what kind of a statement are the boys making on the way out the door? Because the five films (and the television show that preceded them) all maintain largely the same collection of knuckleheads both in front of and behind the camera — longtime director Jeff Tremaine is still orchestrating the mayhem alongside fellow producer Spike Jonze, while revered videographer Lance Bangs once again fights a battle to keep the contents of his stomach inside of him — they function as a snapshot of cultural trends and evolving mores, as well as the relative personal growth of its cast. It helps to think of these movies like Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy, only with more diarrhea and farm animals. If 2002’s Jackass: The Movie and 2006’s Jackass Number Two reflected the Maxim Magazine and Red Bull-fueled ethos of the Bush-era, post 9/11 landscape — Jackass Number Two even features a groan-worthy segment where white performer “Danger” Ehren McGhehey appears in brown face to portray an Arab terrorist — then 2010’s Jackass 3D could credibly be accused of softening with the times while also glomming onto the mercifully short-lived 3D craze. That film throttled back on tormenting Bam Margera’s fifty-something parents and sneak attacks with electric razors. Former problem child Steve-O even got sober for it. When the franchise was resurrected a dozen years later with Jackass Forever, Margera had been unceremoniously jettisoned for failing to get his drinking under control, while a female cast member, Rachel Wolfson, had been added — and with her an acknowledgement of the walking HR violation that these films had been (Forever features a scene where Pontius’ sheepishly asks for consent to remove a scorpion crawling on Wolfson’s chest, which is especially rich considering how frequently they all grab one another’s dicks). Even COVID testing was fair game for elaborate practical jokes.
So while Jackass: Best and Last is still undeniably squirm-inducing — standout sequences involve a game of semi-nude twister after chugging powerful laxatives and Poopies getting enough lip filler to make him resemble a cartoon character — there’s a more relaxed posture to the immaturity. Nobody’s wearing homemade rocket skates or shoving a fish hook through their cheek. No one seems to be overly exerting themselves, and that extends to conceiving of the segments, which are predominantly filmed on soundstages or other controlled environments. Instead, we get Steve-O receiving a rectal exam by a humanoid robot named 1W Larry (riotously voiced by comedian Adam Ray) where, lack of professional setting and use of chunky peanut butter as lubricant notwithstanding, the real discomfort stems from how much the act resembles a visit to the proctologist. And when Pontius is asked to perform a naked high jump — this surely sets an unofficial record for male full frontal nudity in a studio film — there’s a faintly obligatory, going-through-the-motions quality to it. It’s hard to say how much of this is laziness versus earnestly recognizing that half-speed is all these guys are capable of at this point, although it does feel slightly telling that the film’s younger, more able-bodied cast members like Wolfson and Jasper Dolphin are mostly required to stand around and comment from the sidelines.
The extent to which one will respond to Jackass: Best and Last is directly proportional to their affinity for the franchise as a whole. In defiance of its title, Best and Last is pretty easily the least of the five films; in many respects it resembles those supplemental “half-sequels” composed entirely of deleted scenes and sent straight to streaming. In that sense, this is a less than ideal entry point into the series, other than its clip show format that really does serve as a “greatest hits” showcase reel (the devotees will no doubt already be familiar with the “Poo Cocktail Supreme” and “Golf Course Air Horn”). But the appeal of these films has always been their backslapping, conspiratorial qualities. The way prank subjects are frequently recruited to help ensnare the next victim, or how often the tables are turned on instigators, providing instant comeuppance. The contagious waves of maniacal laughter at observing someone in agonizing pain and the emotional lift that comes from your friends celebrating you doing something incredibly brave (or, more often the case with Jackass, something incredibly stupid). Jackass is nothing if not egalitarian and vanity-free, as evidenced by Knoxville (the only genuine movie star in the cast) routinely participating in the most dangerous stunts. If you possess the disposition for it — which means you have a high tolerance for suffering and aren’t prone to vomiting — there remains something deeply comforting in checking in one final time with the fellas and noting both how much and how little they’ve changed. This feels like your pals from high school coming to say goodbye. Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it’s somebody else getting punched in the nuts.
DIRECTOR: Jeff Tremaine; CAST: Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O, Chris Pontius, Preston Lacy, Dave England; DISTRIBUTOR: Paramount Pictures; IN THEATERS: June 26; RUNTIME: 1 hr. 32 min.
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