It delivers its “lessons” with a light touch, allowing Nick a couple of moments of genuine, relatable pathos... but encouraging the audience to take his self-loathing with a pinch of salt.
There are highs and lows here, with a fair amount of shoe leather required before you get to the good stuff. Pretty much like a real festival, appropriately enough.
Unashamedly formulaic and relentlessly puerile, The Festival is no better than it needs to be, which may be as much commercial calculation as artistic limitation.