My quick rating – 4.5/10. Operation Taco Gary’s is a movie that proudly walks into a room wearing a tinfoil hat, then acts offended when you ask why. It follows Danny, played by Simon Rex, doing his usual sun-fried conspiracy-theorist energy, and Luke (Dustin Milligan), the brother who clearly regrets every shared chromosome. Their cross-country road trip somehow involves Taco Gary’s, a fast-food chain so unassuming it might as well have “definitely not alien HQ” printed on the sign. Naturally, this is the one place on Earth hosting an extraterrestrial takeover plot, because nothing says “universal domination” like discount tacos and fluorescent lighting.
The early stretch of Operation Taco Gary’s actually works in a goofy, shrug-and-go-with-it kind of way. Rex and Milligan bounce off each other nicely, especially once Luke realizes Danny was right about everything. Every conspiracy, every theory, every late-night rant. You can practically feel Luke’s spirit trying to escape his body. And yet, the movie doesn’t know when to quit a joke. The ankle-twisting gag goes on so long it starts to feel like the film itself slipped on a sidewalk and couldn’t get back up. The “I wasn’t completely honest with you” line is dragged behind the truck, over gravel, through hedges, then revisited just in case we didn’t groan hard enough the first three times.
Then we meet Klyle. Yes, spelled like a license plate glitch. Played by Tony Cavalero, doing what appears to be an impression of his DMV character from…well, everything I have seen him in. It’s the same energy, the same voice, the same vibe, just relocated to a plot about aliens hiding in a taco joint. And you know what? It somehow fits. Brenda Song pops in as a Canadian badger girl named Allison (because of course she is), and she’s genuinely cute and charming, though half the script seems unsure what to actually do with her. She looks familiar because I just recently finished the video game The Quarry, where she played Kaitlyn. But the movie never gives her more than “quirky wilderness girl who knows things” to work with. Then again, she kind of played the same person in the game. Hmmm.
By the time Jason Biggs shows up, Operation Taco Gary’s loses whatever comedic momentum it had managed to build. Nothing against Biggs, but calling him a billionaire elite surviving the apocalypse is a joke meant for someone who was probably standing just off camera laughing at their own inside reference. The humor becomes increasingly niche, increasingly self-indulgent, and increasingly unfunny. Mikey K – writer, director, and possibly Biggs’ best friend at summer camp – never quite pulls the film out of its YouTube-sketch-with-a-budget vibe.
Operation Taco Gary’s has a couple of amusing alien gags and a handful of moments that almost work, but most of it feels like a parody that overshoots every target. You might chuckle here and there, but you’ll probably walk away as I did. Mostly disappointed and wishing the jokes had been as sharp as Danny’s conspiracy theories.
