Jackass: Best and Last hits theaters June 26, 2026, and the early reviews mostly agree on one thing: critics think it plays like an actual send-off. Not necessarily the franchise’s most uproarious outing, but a deliriously puerile closer that still feels emotionally earned. Multiple outlets frame it as a “proper send-off,” with reviewers pointing to the way the film acknowledges the end of an era without getting trapped in sentiment.

The core structure helps explain why. The movie is partly a best-of clip show, pulling favorite stunts and gags from the original series and previous movies. But it also brings fresh material meant to satisfy both longtime fans and newcomers. Critics emphasize that the new stunts are plentiful enough to avoid turning the film into a museum exhibit of old hits. Variety, for example, says the new ones are mostly solid enough to stand beside the old ones, while Consequence argues the movie is “particularly well-suited to newcomers,” because it encompasses a great deal of franchise history and showcases a wide range of the insane stunts over the years.

If you are watching this through an entertainment industry lens, the strategy is pretty logical. When a long-running brand nears the final chapter, it has two jobs at once: reward loyal viewers who already know the greatest moments and still offer a reason for new audiences to care. Jackass: Best and Last seems designed to do both, according to reviewers. Liz Shannon Miller (Consequence) and Todd Gilchrist (TheWrap) both discuss how the film works as a kind of gateway, even if it might not convert the most cynical critics. That balancing act matters, because the franchise built its audience on shock, escalation, and community in the first place. A full stop that only replays the past would miss the point.

So what do the critics actually say about the new content? The consensus is that the fresh sequences mostly land, even if they are not always “as inspired” as earlier classics. Screen International suggests the new material is abundant and includes multiple sequences “a little less physically demanding on the cast,” while still being “incredibly agonising or humiliating.” That last phrase is doing a lot of work. Jackass is not built on subtlety. It is built on risk, gross-out comedy, and stunts that turn the audience into unwilling witnesses. That is why reviewers keep returning to the idea that the film’s riskiest moments might be behind the crew now, but the franchise still delivers on the spirit of going for broke.

There are also real disagreements in the early reviews, which is usually a healthy sign. Some critics say it falls short of the franchise’s superlative highs. Todd Gilchrist (TheWrap) calls it worthy and satisfying, but slightly short of the series’ best installment, which he identifies as Jackass Number Two. AV Club and others sound a little less convinced about whether the movie has enough original content or whether certain bits drag. Matt Singer (ScreenCrush) says there is not enough original content, while Guy Lodge (Variety) identifies an overlong bit where Paul Walter Hauser is strapped down and threatened with giving one of the crew a rim job, calling it a disappointing stretch. IndieWire goes further on another disappointment, criticizing the Jamiroquai-inspired opening sequence as limp compared to the Godzilla intro from Jackass Forever.

Still, the emotional angle might be the biggest surprise for executives thinking about how “stunt comedy” ages. Several reviews highlight how emotional the sequel feels, even including tears that are not strictly laughter or disgust. Matt Singer (ScreenCrush) says it only took 13 minutes for the film to make him laugh so hard he cried. Todd Gilchrist (TheWrap) frames it as “more sentimental than usual,” and Time Out notes a melancholic awareness of its own mortality. The Daily Beast and others describe it as a deliriously puerile swan song. In plain terms: the stunts are still the product, but the film’s closing posture makes the audience feel something beyond the gross-out.

On the performance side, critics even appear to be treating this like an MVP season. David Ehrlich (IndieWire) says Steve-O finally fulfills his dream of being the MVP of a Jackass movie. ScreenCrush’s Matt Singer goes further in his own way, essentially awarding Steve-O the MVP trophy in gratitude for the sacrifices made for “your art.” Meanwhile, other reviewers say Knoxville’s behavior suggests caution on camera, which Liz Shannon Miller (Consequence) reads as a sign the series is wrapping at the right time. And Tim Grierson (Screen International) reiterates the send-off framing, adding that the odds of it truly being the final entry feel slim, according to Frank Scheck (The Hollywood Reporter). That tension, between a “proper send-off” feel and lingering franchise uncertainty, is exactly the kind of narrative uncertainty that keeps brands alive, even when they swear they are done.

For decision-makers, the second-order takeaway is about what happens when a brand can no longer rely on pure escalation. Critics indicate the film compensates by blending formats: old highlights for recognition, new stunts for novelty, and a stronger emotional arc for resonance. If you are in charge of a franchise or a long-running content pipeline, that is the play. You do not just extend. You curate, you recontextualize, and you end in a way that feels like a decision, not a fade-out. Jackass: Best and Last may not be the series’ high point, but according to Rotten Tomatoes’ collected reviews, it is landing as a satisfying, emotionally aware goodbye that still keeps the mayhem front and center. And if this is truly the final stop, the franchise is proving something important: even the dumbest stunts can hit harder when they know they are coming to an end.