Over 40 years ago, Rob Reiner’s This is Spinal Tap hit theaters and cranked the laughs up to 11. An early pioneer of the mockumentary format, it expertly spoofed rock concert film hijinks by covering the eccentric, lovably dense Spinal Tap band’s humiliating U.S. tour so well you actually started to believe its members were real—deeply peculiar individuals whose song lyrics were as bizarre as their drummers’ embarrassing demises, but hilarious all the same. And like every band who succeeded or peaked in the 1980s, Spinal Tap II: The End Continues wants to relive those glory days with a big reunion concert.

It’s slightly ironic that a sequel to a movie about its band playing past their expiration date would lean into legacy nostalgia. Yet Spinal Tap II goes for that, getting the band back together and letting them perform with music icons even as it pokes fun at the passage of time’s impact on their relationships and wrinkles. The results are still funny, though not quite as hilarious as its predecessor. Like a giant Stonehenge descending onto the stage (at long last), Spinal Tap II is an amusing experience, even if you’re left not entirely sure the spectacle was worth the wait.

Returning filmmaker Martin DiBergi (Reiner) quickly brings the fans up to speed, revealing that the metal band’s Smell the Glove tour led to a brief uptick in fame and success with the masses again. Since then, however, its foppish-haired members have all gone their separate ways. Guitarist Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) now runs a cheese and guitar store in the English countryside; singer David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean) lives in California, scoring music for podcasts and “please hold” calls; and pianist Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) runs a museum dedicated entirely to glue, likely due to some misguided crypto investments. They all would be content to remain on these paths had a video of someone performing a Tap song not begun trending, prompting Hope Faith (Kerry Godliman)—the daughter of deceased manager Ian Faith—to realize her ownership of the band via Ian’s will wasn’t entirely worthless.

The group intends to make their big return in New Orleans, humorously accepting a timeslot originally meant for a conversation with Stormy Daniels. Joining them on tour is Simon Howler (Chris Addison), a concert promoter who prides himself on not understanding music, and new band member Didi (Valerie Franco), a punk youth who hopes to be the first to break Spinal Tap’s dead drummer curse. But old grudges, regrets, and bizarre musical decisions keep tensions afloat as they prepare for the concert. Pretty tame stuff by aging rock band standards.

The jovial yet peculiar, and occasionally passive-aggressive, chemistry between McKean, Guest, and Shearer gave Spinal Tap its initial authenticity, and their banter continues to garner laughs four decades later. Perhaps it’s because of the innocence with which they provide deeply strange takes on music. These men love thinking themselves as serious performers even as their egos and profoundly absurd tastes reveal their childish behavior hasn’t gone away. The best jokes are those which help take the wind out of everyone’s sails, like the band’s dinner getting interrupted by a paranormal tour group casually walking through their residency. Or, in one literal case, a giant prop breaking wind during an on-stage performance.

Of course, the band members aren’t quite the on-stage losers they were in the ’80s. Here they’re treated as legit rock stars. So Spinal Tap II does lose a bit of its bite when it tries to fluff up the legacy of its own success, particularly when actual rock stars enter the picture. Some like Questlove have brief cameos; others, like Paul McCartney and Elton John, have extended roles and even perform opposite the band. Obviously, they’re huge fans of the film outside the film. But these cameos somewhat undermine the earnest patchiness of Spinal Tap’s antics, getting laughs while trying a bit too hard to look cool in their old age.

What Spinal Tap II: The End Continues offers isn’t entirely dependent on nostalgia. Reiner retains the distinct humor of a satire that plays itself completely straight, right down to the throwback cameos and visual gags The Naked Gun reboot would love to borrow. The music remains as entertaining as its cast’s dimwitted showbiz shenanigans, but this movie can’t summon the glory days. It’s still not winking at the audience, though it does feel like it’s nudging them with a zucchini a little.