With the passing of Rob Reiner, I’ve found myself going back through the films he made because I just wanted to spend time with them again. These movies have been part of my life for so long that revisiting them feels like catching up with old friends.
The first one I watched was This Is Spinal Tap, the movie that kicked off Reiner’s directing career and it still feels just as sharp, ridiculous, and hilarious as it did the first time I saw it.
No matter how many times I watch this movie, it makes me laugh my ass off. I know the jokes. I know what’s coming, and I can quote the movie without thinking about it. None of that matters. I still crack up every single time.
To this day, it’s one of the funniest films ever made. Comedy changes, tastes shift, trends come and go. This Is Spinal Tap just sits there, unbothered, still landing punchlines decades later in a way that few comedies can.
Whenever I need a good laugh, this is the movie I put on. It immediately makes me happy and drops me into a fun, goofy mood. I love that about this movie. It doesn’t demand anything from you, you can half-watch it and still laugh. You can give it your full attention and catch new details you somehow missed before. It works on every level.
This Is Spinal Tap follows a fictional British heavy metal band as they tour America, documented by a filmmaker played by Reiner himself. What Reiner and the cast did with this movie was kind of revolutionary. The movie didn’t just parody rock documentaries.
It understood them. It nailed the egos, the insecurity, the delusions of grandeur, and the quiet desperation that comes with chasing relevance. That’s why it feels so real even when it’s completely absurd.
The performances from Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer are a huge reason the film works as well as it does. They never play the joke. These guys fully commit to being Spinal Tap.
They believe in the music, the image, and the myth they’ve built around themselves. Reiner was smart enough to give them the space to improvise and explore, and that choice shaped the entire tone of the movie. It feels loose and natural, like you’re genuinely watching a band unravel in real time.
What really gets me now, watching it again after Reiner’s passing, is how confident his voice already was. This was his first time directing a feature, and he somehow nailed the balance between satire and affection.
He’s laughing at these characters, sure, but he also clearly loves them. He understands them. That warmth is what keeps the movie from ever feeling mean-spirited. You’re laughing with Spinal Tap just as much as you’re laughing at them.
It’s also wild how much of modern comedy can be traced back to this film. The mockumentary format has been copied endlessly since then, from TV shows to movies to internet videos. So much of that DNA starts here.
But none of the imitators quite capture what This Is Spinal Tap pulls off. It’s not just about awkward interviews and funny situations. It’s about character, timing, and letting moments breathe.
Rewatching it now, I’m struck by how timeless it feels. The jokes still hit. The awkward pauses still kill. The little background details still reward repeat viewings.
This film shows how fearless Reiner was as a director right out of the gate. It shows his instinct for performance, his trust in actors, and his ability to shape chaos into something unforgettable. He went on to make so many incredible films, but it all started here, with a fake band, and a lot of very serious people doing very stupid things.
If you’ve somehow never seen This Is Spinal Tap, I can’t recommend it enough. Watch it with friends. Watch it alone. Watch it when you’re in a bad mood and need a guaranteed laugh. Chances are, you’ll end up coming back to it over and over again, amazed that it still works, still hits, and still makes you feel damn good.
Reiner gave us something special with this movie, and I love that it exists.
