Time Helmet (2026) Funny, Chaotic & Surprisingly Touching -

Time Helmet is a deliriously fun, throwback sci-fi comedy that proudly wears its influences on its sleeve — and then adds a few ridiculous patches of its own. This is the kind of film that feels like it was born in a VHS era basement, fuelled by late-night movies, practical effects, and the belief that science fiction should be weird, colourful, and deeply human. It’s playful, scrappy, and bursting with personality, echoing the spirit of 70s and 80s genre classics like Back to the Future, Weird Science, The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai, and the kind of off-kilter cult films that used imagination as their greatest special effect.

At the centre of the chaos is Donald Voltmann, brought vividly to life by Peter New in a performance that feels tailor-made for fans of anarchic, big-hearted comedy. Donald is a character Jack Black would absolutely devour — an overconfident, underachieving inventor whose enthusiasm far exceeds his ability to control the mess he creates. New fully commits to the absurdity, delivering rapid-fire comedic beats while never losing sight of Donald’s emotional core. Beneath the mad science, time paradoxes, and escalating disasters is a father desperate to matter — to his daughter, to the world, and maybe even to himself.

Director Mike Jackson shows a confident understanding of tone, which is crucial for a film like this. Time Helmet never winks too hard or apologizes for its silliness. Instead, it embraces its quirks, letting the comedy breathe while grounding the spectacle in genuine feeling. The humour is broad but smart, leaning into physical comedy, sci-fi absurdism, and character-driven laughs rather than easy punchlines. When the film goes big, it goes big — but it never forgets the emotional stakes tethering the madness together.

There’s also a palpable love for classic science fiction storytelling here — the kind that isn’t obsessed with realism but with possibility. Time travel becomes less about rules and more about consequence, identity, and regret. The future self plotline is handled with wit and imagination, turning what could have been a throwaway gag into a clever exploration of self-sabotage, ego, and the danger of believing you’re always the smartest person in the room.

Despite its modest resources, Time Helmet feels ambitious, inventive, and handcrafted. You can sense the labour of love behind every frame, from the visual effects to the production design, all working in service of a film that understands limitations can actually sharpen creativity. It’s the kind of movie that reminds you why independent genre films matter — because they can take risks, get weird, and still land something emotionally sincere.

In the end, Time Helmet delivers exactly what it promises: a zany sci-fi romp with heart. It’s funny, chaotic, surprisingly touching, and powered by a lead performance that anchors the madness with real warmth. This is comfort-food cinema for genre fans — the kind you watch with a grin, quote later, and revisit when you’re in the mood for something unapologetically fun. By the time the helmet powers down, you’ll wish more films took this many joyful chances with their ideas — and trusted their audience to come along for the ride.