When I started watching the second episode of the Canadian comedy series Nirvana the Band the Show, I swore I’d made a mistake. After all, the title card of this supposedly new episode was the exact same as the first episode’s: “Matt and Jay try to get a show at the Rivoli.”

 Did I accidentally put on the same episode twice? Was Hulu glitching out? Was my third semester at Brandcenter finally breaking my brain in half? (jury’s out on that last hypothetical.)

As if a Groundhog Day scenario had suddenly wound back the hands of a clock, the second episode continued to be much like the first. The more mild-mannered Jay plays an introduction on his signature piano, and the more rambunctious Matt rambles on about a nonsensical ‘new plan’ to get their band the ultimate dream: a gig at their local bar. Sure, the plan in the last episode didn’t end up working out (consisting of a larger-than-life banner advertising their band accidentally turning into a not-so-subtle dick pic), but this time would be different!

Unsurprisingly, after a series of unfortunate events, the third episode also begins with the exact same title card.

And so, the suspiciously Rivoli-shaped boulder began to be pushed up the hill. 

The conceit of Nirvana the Band the Show is simple: no matter what Matt and Jay do, their efforts to play the Rivoli go unnoticed, and as more plans fail, each subsequent one gets more bizarre. A simple scheme to call the Rivoli suddenly turns into posing as a couple on a sports jumbotron to promote their band, or even figuring out the sewer system below the restaurant to secretly sneak in.

This story structure is very purposeful. “The Rivoli is very much the top of the Sisyphus Mountain,” Jay McCarrol (who plays the character of ‘Jay’) has explained. “It’s a spiritual destination. We’re very careful not to mess with that too much in a tangible way because it feels really great when it’s always kept at arm’s reach.”

Yet, the truth of their failures is never painted as an overt tragedy (or, as Matt says in the first episode, ‘Some mythic classic Greek shit’). After all, as the show goes on, it seems as if the duo’s real dream isn’t to play at the Rivoli— it’s to spend more quality time together. 

As fun as Nirvana the Band the Show is, I’ll be the first to admit the viewing experience is a tiny bit humbling. After all, watching Matt ramble on about how to make the perfect plan feels like I’m witnessing a caricature of a strategist: desperate to make any idea work, wielding an Expo marker as a valiant weapon to face off against the world’s criticisms. We say ridiculous things, pull our creatives through unexpected hoops, and while we don’t always get exactly where we expected to be, something valuable is created, and fun is had in the process. When all is said and done, we go back to square one—  pushing the metaphorical boulder once again, but not without newfound wisdom.

It was never about the Rivoli. It’s about the people you choose to go up impossible hills alongside you.