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Mattress Mick is a living legend who gained initial fame in videos featuring every green screen background imaginable. Now, after branding himself as a meme, he probably has several mutual friends with you on Facebook, if you aren’t a “friend” of his already. But before Mattress Mick, there was Michael Flynn. Born into a family of retailers, he went on to run six furniture stores across the North side. He was a roaring success, as many were during the Celtic Tiger years. Unfortunately after two store closures in 2012, he was forced into voluntary liquidation. The previous year, Mick’s videos started appearing online in a final attempt to save his business. If half of Mick’s popularity is due to his lovable charisma, the other half is down to his employee Paul Kelly’s creative skills. It’s his determined vision that has shown Mick flying on mattresses, getting lost in space and travelling the world—all from the confines of their tiny office.

The plot follows the pair while shooting their promotional rap hit Back with a Bang throughout 2014. Although this might seem disappointing as there’s less Mick, it’s a smart choice by director Colm Quinn—it allows the documentary to go beyond the Mattress Mick caricature. Much of the film highlights the ambitions and struggles of Paul as a working class father. A post-it note at his desk declares “I will buy a four bedroom house in Santry in 2015”, and he continually stresses his desire to provide for his children’s future. The problems Paul faces are cyclical: He needs money to support his family, but constant work means his relationships are under massive strain. Paul’s wellbeing suffers and although hard to watch, it’s powerful that his vulnerability is represented onscreen. Mick himself speaks of his disappointment during the economic downturn, though not as candidly. Back with a Bang’s eventual release on Budget Day is representative of the pair’s joint fight against the economic downturn. The film also unexpectedly explores the territory between artists—how do artistic pairs split their success? Should they even? The final confrontation between Paul and Mick is a modern-day prodigal son moment and one that is wonderfully captured onscreen.

The serious chapters are broken up with comic interludes of happy-go-lucky employee Brian Traynor wandering the roads in a mattress costume (yes, there is such thing). There are many more hilarious scenes which are worth seeing in themselves, the best being a conversation over whether models dancing in lingerie is appropriate for the music video. However, Mattress Men isn’t purely funny: It’s extremely relevant and herein lies its true merit. At its heart, it documents two people’s struggle during Ireland’s worst financial recession, and all the difficult and bizarre ends they’ll go to for survival. The film does lag at times—several scenes run longer than necessary and towards the end, some of the campy charm wears thin. There are moments where Quinn undoubtedly could’ve examined deeper. Nevertheless the genuine connection built between the audience and familiar Dublin figures is one that deserves to be seen.