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Budding musician Fatty Bratty wakes up in his terrible apartment to a random dog. A dog that acts like he belongs there. Except Bratty doesn’t own a dog. He always wanted to but never did. So maybe this random dog is a sign: screw his parents’ expectations. Forget business school. Instead, over a manic week, he and his best friend write and record their first rap album. They call themselves Mr. Yay.
Bratty’s therapist, Miriam, remembers a different Mr. Yay, the one from the old children’s TV show, the washed-up actor turned first mate who sailed a boat captained by a dog and taught people to be themselves. To just be. But strangely, her husband, Jack, has no memory of the old show at all.
As Mr. Yay climbs the charts with his rap songs, Miriam watches her life unravel. Jack is increasingly absent, more secretive, reckless - he hardly resembles the man she married. Their friends start acting weird, too: drinking excessively, splurging on motorcycles, quitting their jobs, not washing their hair, harboring raccoons. Jack also doesn’t remember things he should about his relationship with Miriam. But he suspects his memory hole is more than it seems. It’s not just that he’s forgotten the Mr. Yay show - it’s that, on the internet, and according to the studio and half the population, there is no Mr. Yay. There never was.
Bratty’s therapist, Miriam, remembers a different Mr. Yay, the one from the old children’s TV show, the washed-up actor turned first mate who sailed a boat captained by a dog and taught people to be themselves. To just be. But strangely, her husband, Jack, has no memory of the old show at all.
As Mr. Yay climbs the charts with his rap songs, Miriam watches her life unravel. Jack is increasingly absent, more secretive, reckless - he hardly resembles the man she married. Their friends start acting weird, too: drinking excessively, splurging on motorcycles, quitting their jobs, not washing their hair, harboring raccoons. Jack also doesn’t remember things he should about his relationship with Miriam. But he suspects his memory hole is more than it seems. It’s not just that he’s forgotten the Mr. Yay show - it’s that, on the internet, and according to the studio and half the population, there is no Mr. Yay. There never was.
