Jackass: Best and Last Review: Knoxville & Co. Return for One Last Encore

The thing with Jackass is: there’s really nothing like it. Evolving from the skate videos of the 1990s, Jackass has persisted long enough to see its public perception come full circle: from lewd, obnoxious jerks to lewd, obnoxious sweethearts. The franchise never tried to be anything it wasn’t. In making the faithful leap from television to theaters, it only upped its budget to match the larger screen. Charismatic leader Johnny Knoxville and his partner-in-pain, director Jeff Tremaine, always followed a core thesis, a timeless truth: if you film someone getting hit in the nuts, people will laugh at it. Because of their fidelity, the Jackass brand has outlasted the relevance of its once-culture-defining home, MTV, and now its middle-aged principal cast. Despite numerous threats that they had hung up their thongs and Tasers for good, the gang is back for a bittersweet coda. 

“You’ve said this is the last one after every movie. Do you think anyone’s gonna take that seriously?” long-time and often-nude performer Steve-O asks the gray-haired Knoxville as he’s strapped to an electric chair. He says that it is, and I believe him. As tipped in the title, Jackass: Best and Last is a mix of greatest hits, B-sides, and some new bits sprinkled in for good measure. It mercifully trades in the growing scale and audacity of previous installments for reflection and nostalgia without pulling any punches. The ubiquity of the Jackass name means there are those who grew up with them, some who checked in from time to time, and others who may only have a passing familiarity with their brutal bacchanals. Best and Last works as a celebration, an introduction, and an encore.

The film opens on the stunt Knoxville calls “the birth of Jackass,” one too intense for MTV to broadcast. Knoxville told an audience at the Museum of the Moving Image premiere that fear is what created Jackass—his first daughter was on the way and he needed the paycheck. So, understandably, he grabbed a bulletproof vest, stuffed it with some porno mags for extra protection, and got a buddy to hold a camera as he shot himself with a revolver. It’s the epitome of early Jackass: simple, stupid, mesmerizing. 

It’s one of many unreleased segments Knoxville and Tremaine include in their last call of mayhem that didn’t make the half-installments of bonus footage released with each film. Another is an infamous hidden-camera bit from 2000, “The Convict,” in which Knoxville pretends to be an escaped inmate and tries sawing off his shackles in a West Hollywood hardware store, for which a crew member was subsequently arrested. He claims the production was banned from filming in the neighborhood for a decade. While a sheriff points her gun at Knoxville as he’s splayed out on the sidewalk, he pleads his case that it’s just a joke.

Comedy from danger was there since the start and creatively adapted by the crew, which consistently includes stunt performers Steve-O, Chris Pontius, Dave England, Jason “Wee Man” Acuña, Preston Lacy, and “Danger Ehren” McGhehey. It’s a testament to their character that they’re all still playfully electrocuting each other, given the hard-living milieu from which they assembled. They’ve endured the death of Jackass regular Ryan Dunn and estrangement of Bam Margera, who starred in his own show, Viva la Bam, after the Jackass series concluded. Margera was fired from the most recent installment, Jackass Forever, but his footage can be seen in Best and Last, along with some of his more tortured scenes of years past. A farewell wouldn’t have felt right without him.

Accompanying the rare footage are some of Jackass’ most memorable moments, including: a Wee Man-starring bar brawl; the kidnapping of Brad Pitt from a Hollywood street; and a stunt called The Magic Trick, in which Knoxville dresses up as a magician, only to be upended by a charging bull. Afterwards, Knoxville—who had broken a rib from the hit—leans on Tremaine reviewing the footage and says it doesn’t look good enough and goes for a second take. It’s a perfectionism borrowed from Jackie Chan, a hero of Knoxville. Nailing the take and donned with a neck brace, he’s carried into an ambulance as castmates cheer him on. The trust, love, and sincerity that complement this masochism are what win so many hearts. 

It’s also what made their testosterone-fueled antics survive this recent reckoning with masculinity and have enshrined them as a hallmark example of the positive “dudes rock” label. Despite them surprising each other with a slap from an enormous mechanized hand or exploding a paint bomb in a porta-potty, there’s camaraderie amongst the pain because they’re all in on the joke. Jackass Forever debuted a new class that certainly held their own with the stalwarts, but they’ve been introduced too late to fully take over the mantle. The question is: would Jackass work without its core group, or does it become more of a tribute band?

Most of the youngsters return for a few segments filmed specifically for this victory lap. And proving that even Jackass isn’t immune to the encroachment of technology, they’re joined by the latest addition to the crew, a wisecracking robot named Larry.

Released nearly 16 years ago, Jackass 3D ends with a montage of footage over Weezer’s nostalgic anthem “Memories” and remains the franchise’s most satisfying farewell. But of course the guys who end up writhing on the floor in pain or sprinting away in terror always come back for more. The fourth installment, Jackass Forever, arrived in 2022 and holds the distinction of being the only film I have ever seen twice in a theater on the same day. As long as they keep coming back, I’ll keep coming back.

Jackass: Best and Last opens in theaters on Friday, June 26.