It is 22 April, 2016. Bear with me, okay? If there’s one thing my readers are used to, it’s bearing with me during inane situations.

Let’s try again – it’s 22 April, 2016. Prince is necking Berocca after Berocca, having celebrated his birthday like a madman the night before. Romania is now expelled from this year’s Eurovision Song Contest. And John Carney’s Sing Street has just been unleashed on the world.

We’re pretending it’s 2016 throughout the entirety of this review, because I’ve only got round to watching Sing Street on Netflix, because I’m a foolish fool who has inevitably wasted a year of his life.

Well, now the year is 1980 – stick with it – E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial was the highest-grossing movie of the decade. MTV was launched in the United States of America. And Conor (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) is forming his own band, Sing Street, in order to woo the mysterious girl he sees outside his school.

This coming-of-age comedy is an incredibly feel-good romp that just nails about nine out of the ten aspects of the movie, but what do you expect when it’s written and directed by Begin Again’s John Carney? It’s a very energetic movie, with plenty of laughs, but – at the same time – enough heart. The tone of the laughs varies, meaning there’s enough for everyone, from subtle (almost blink-and-you’ll-miss-them) lines, to a genuinely hilarious music video for The Riddle of the Model, which includes scene-stealing and vampire fangs.

The soundtrack is absolutely incredible, featuring appearances from Hall & Oates, Duran Duran, Hall & Oates, The Jam, Hall & Oates and Hall & Oates. What can I say? If Hall & Oates don’t make you happy, you can get straight out of my life. The original numbers performed by Sing Street are catchy as eff too. Do me a flavour and Spotify ‘Drive It Like You Stole It’. Then come back here immediately, ’cause I need the hits. That doesn’t sound too desperate, does it? Just, erm, LOVE ME.

While I think the film’s laugh out loud funny, I’d like to see more of the cast getting the funnies – including Ian Kelly’s bully Barry, Sing Street was made up of seven boys, and I can only really remember half of them. The others were just there, and very rarely had any comedic lines. Like, did you even know there was a drummer in Sing Street? WE KNOW, RIGHT?! The only thing he got from his script was paper cuts. (Sheesh. That was fierce, me.)

Sing Street is, frankly, a really, really enjoyable film, with some great laughs and greater songs; the young cast all shine, and – wait – what? There was a line that said “No woman can truly love a man who listens to Phil Collins”? Well, f*ck you, Sing Street. I love Phil, and I hate this movie. Don’t watch it.

Who am I kidding? Watch it. It’s nearly perfect. And then, once you have, you can return to 2017. Why wouldn’t you want to? 2017 has been going well so far, right?