A gangster goes back in time to kidnap … himself? That’s the core plot of Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice. But despite its unexpected setup, the movie’s content concerns—language, violence and sexual jokes—make this R-rated romp more predictable and disappointing.
Not many professions offer ironclad job security these days. Have a bad week, and you might get fired. Have a good week, and you might get laid off. But organized crime syndicates? That’s different. It’s a hard job to leave. Almost impossible, really. You’re practically guaranteed a job ‘til the day you die.
Sure, that day will likely come sooner than you’d like, but still.
Quick-Draw Mike would love to get out of the biz. Alive, if possible. “I’m done with violence, done with guns,” he says. The fact that he’s been carrying on an affair with his boss’s wife is added encouragement to find a new career. And identity. And country to live in.
It’s not easy to quit and live. But one night—the night that Jimmy Boy, the son of the syndicate kingpin, is released from jail—Mike decides to broach the topic with his boss, Nick.
Nick seems sympathetic. In fact, he says he’s amenable to giving Mike a non-lethal severance package. But he asks Mike to do one last job: a big one. Nick says it’s bound to get “heavy and weird.”
Step one: Go to Nick’s house with Nick.
Step two: Knock on the door.
Step three: Incapacitate the guy who answers with chloroform.
Step four: Stuff the guy into a car trunk.
At first, all goes well. Mike and Nick arrive at the house without incident. Mike successfully knocks on the door. But when the door opens, Mike sees …
Nick.
What with the shock and all, Mike’s “step three” doesn’t go so hot. Only after an extended fight scene does Mike find himself able to move on to step four. But no matter. Nick—the Nick who hired Mike, not the Nick lying unconscious in a car trunk—is still pleased the plan is moving along.
“I said it was going to get heavy and weird,” Nick says.
And the evening’s just beginning.
Nick is quite the character. Two characters, really—thanks to a nifty little time machine. Yes, that’s right: a time machine. Nick from the future has hired Mike to kidnap Nick from the present. Why? Because Present Nick is a back-stabbing jerk, that’s why.
Future Nick knows from experience. He was Present Nick in the past, and he knows that tonight, Present Nick will make a mistake that he’ll regret in the future. (A real Nick in time, this one. Cue rimshot.) Future Nick wants to convince Present Nick not to make that mistake. But Present Nick isn’t one to trust anyone—even himself.
All this leads up to the movie’s one positive element: Future Nick is a much nicer guy than he once was. Oh, sure, he’s still mean enough to kidnap himself and murder dozens of people (we’ll get to that), but in a movie like this, we’ve gotta look for the positives where we can.
We learn that Jimmy Boy was abandoned as a child and rescued from underneath a dumpster by the kingpin Sosa, who took the child under his wing. So I guess that makes for a nice message about adoption?
None.
Much of the setting of Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice is a series of parties celebrating the release of Jimmy Boy. One of those parties takes place in a strip club, where we see a number of women in the scantiest of garments (including thongs). A few dance on stage while holding onto poles. One gives Jimmy Boy a lap dance and seems to be surprised by his lack of arousal.
This theme proves to be one of the film’s running gags: Jimmy Boy was in prison for quite a few years—after someone snitched on him. One of Jimmy Boy’s friends tells him that the “rat” robbed him of his prime years, sexually speaking. Now it’s all downhill, Jimmy Boy is told—and it appears to have a psychosomatic impact on the guy. Later on in the movie, Jimmy Boy is greeted by several scantily clad women—apparently prostitutes “given” to him for the night by his father, Sosa. Jimmy Boy is unable to perform. And later, in the shower, he scolds his male appendage. (We see him from the waist up.)
As mentioned, Mike is having an affair with Nick’s wife, Alice. The couple had planned to rendezvous in a nearby hotel, but the evening went sideways. In a flashback, we see the night they began their relationship, where they dance sensually during someone else’s wedding reception.
Present Nick would indeed kill Mike if he knew about the affair. But in truth, Nick is having a number of liaisons of his own. Indeed, the quartet (Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice, from the movie’s title) visits an apartment that Present Nick (and perhaps Future Nick) uses as a lair for his conquests. We meet one of those paramours, a crooked cop named Sam. (We hear from Future Nick that they’ve not started their relationship yet, but they soon will.)
Some sexual jokes and raunchy double entendres infect the script. Alice wears a dress that reveals quite a bit of cleavage.
Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice is a comedy with some extensive, outlandish fight sequences thrown in. Much of the action feels ever-so-slightly akin to the flips and jabs you might find in a John Wick film—though not nearly as visceral or as balletic.
Sosa, the head of the syndicate, has hired an assassin named “The Baron” to dispatch the snitch that sent his son to prison. The twist: The guy’s apparently a cannibal who eats his quarries, too. And we hear from Future Nick that he was successful the first time this evening rolled around.
I would bet that more people die in take two.
One man gets part of his face blown off: A character looks through a gaping hole in the man’s head. Dozens of people get shot—sometimes several times. Blood seeps and sometimes spatters. People get injured, knocked out and sometimes killed by grenades, bottles, darts, fireplace pokers, pool sticks, wet-floor signs, weight machines and bowling trophies. Eyes get skewered. Crotches get pummeled. People get flipped and thrown into walls.
Sosa gives Jimmy Boy a monogrammed shotgun as a get-out-of-jail gift, which Jimmy Boy makes heavy use of during the evening. Automatic weapons tear through a posh apartment. Someone incinerates a workshop.
Alice stabs Present Nick in the leg—in part because she’s angry, but in part to see whether a scar will show up on Future Nick’s leg as well. (It does.)
Mike tries to knock out Present Nick with a handkerchief full of chloroform. It doesn’t work, which leads to a massive, extended melee inside Nick’s house and a whole bunch of perforated walls. Another huge fight takes place in a convenience store. People get threatened with guns. We hear about how Nick collects his debts—all of which are fairly violent.
About 140 f-words and more than 20 s-words. We also hear “a–,” “b–ch,” “d–n,” “h—,” “p-ss,” d–k” and “c–ks–ker.” God’s name is misused more than a dozen times, seven of those with the word “d–n.” Jesus’ name is abused three times.
As mentioned, much of the action takes place during a series of parties, and all the parties are completely besotted with alcohol. Characters drink a variety of boozy beverages, from champagne and cocktails to beers and wine. We watch two people snort several lines of cocaine at once. A henchman snorts a line of coke from a barbell bar.
A convenience store worker, when he sees the two Nicks, says, “I gotta stop drinking while I’m on edibles, man.” A henchman in Sosa’s gang is nicknamed “Roid Rage.”
Sosa is very determined to find out the identity of the “rat” who sent Jimmy Boy to prison. Someone lies about the identity of said “rat” and frames someone else. Other lies are told. A police person is very clearly crooked.
Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice is a strange little film. And honestly, at its most strange, it’s not bad. It’s not often you see a time machine in a crime comedy, and while that time-traveling conceit doesn’t make a lick of sense, you can at least give it points for originality. It can be funny, too: A series of Gilmore Girl jokes are a hoot even for someone like me, who has not watched a single episode of the Gilmore Girls.
It’s when the film becomes less strange—when it becomes your typical R-rated comedy caper—that Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice becomes a big Plugged In disappointment.
Violence? We expect it from such movies, and this film comes with it in sporadic spades. Language? It’s the most profane film I’ve seen this young year of 2026, and it didn’t need any of it. Sexual jokes and asides? Oh, goodness. Predictably, the film comes with plenty of those as well.
Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice is not a forgettable film. But its content concerns make it one that many might wish they could forget.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
