Operation Taco Gary’s a goofy comedy that’s consistently hilarious. It also centers itself in modern conspiracy culture and gets much about it right. Unfortunately, it gets one big thing wrong—the same thing most films in the subgenre do.
The film is the directorial debut of Michael Kvamme, sometimes credited as “Mikey K,” and it’s simultaneously a road trip comedy and hangout movie. The plot concerns a pair of very mismatched brothers named Luke and Danny (Dustin Milligan and Simon Rex). Luke’s somewhat responsible and is about to start a legitimate new job in Canada, while Danny is more of a lifelong ne’er-do-well and goofball conspiracist, with a long history of embarrassing his brother and dragging him down.
One day, Danny reappears in his brother’s life, and learning he’s headed north of the border, decides to hitch a ride out of the country. That’s only the start of the adventures, as Danny’s gotten himself mixed into a grand conspiracy that’s more elaborate and sprawling than it first appears. (“Taco Gary’s” is a fictitious fast food chain that repeatedly gets dragged into the action.)
The film treats it as a running joke that Danny, about a half dozen times, says “I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” and that kicks off the next jarring plot twist. Among those I can reveal is the involvement of 1990s actor Jason Biggs, seen here playing himself, although the film kicks off with the announcement that he’s just died. Tony Cavalero, from The Righteous Gemstones, steals some scenes as an even more deranged accomplice, while Doug Jones, from The Shape of Water, also shows up.
If you’re on its weird wavelength, as I certainly was, you’re going to enjoy Operation Taco Gary’s. The dialogue’s witty, full of decent running jokes and funny wordplay. The musical choices are fantastic, and the first-time director proves adept at blocking, as there’s often something hilarious going on in the backgrounds of scenes. We get great details like a guy who protests outside a dentist's office, the way one might picket an abortion clinic, except it’s “Stop putting microchips in our teeth.”
Rex, a revelation as a porn actor gone to seed in Sean Baker’s Red Rocket, delivers another outstanding turn, as another creature of the dark side of Americana. He’s racist against the Portuguese, and says things such as, “Like Snowden and other tattle tales, we’ll be protected, and our names will be cleared.”
A lot of movies over the last couple of years have dealt with modern conspiracy culture, from Ari Aster’s Eddington to Sean Price Williams’ The Sweet East (also costarring Simon Rex) to Yorgos Lanthimos’ Bugonia. Bugonia is currently nominated for Best Picture, and Operation Taco Gary’s almost certainly won’t be, but the two films have a surprising amount in common.
But why must movies about conspiracy theorists always show that the conspiracists were right? In real life, conspiracy theorists are lunatics. They’re people who are nearly always wrong and do damage, especially now that everything from the traditional media landscape to social media provides all the incentives to keep right on lying. Conspiracy stuff is exciting, especially when it stays within the realm of fiction. But I’d prefer the movies that pride themselves on realism about conspiracy culture would also find a way to let them be wrong.