In the wake of the 20th anniversary edition of their smash hit, daft-as-a-brush cock rock debut Permission to Land, a lot of positive articles have been written about The Darkness, reappraising their craft and wantonly overblown gift to a music community that perpetually takes itself too seriously. It’s the latest development in the story of a band who only ever wanted to be Queen, and who have trod the exact same path from critical punchline to legends of teckers stadium rock, five years after the band went so far as recruiting Roger Taylor’s son, Rufus, as their forth drummer.

The other comparison thrown the band’s way since they first started treating rooms above pubs like Wembley Stadium (a comparison they’ve also welcomed with an air of, “and what’s so wrong about that?”) is to Spinal Tap, which is what makes Welcome to The Darkness such a knowing (and joyous) documentary. At one point, the band’s naturally hilarious cat-suit tailor, Ray Brown, even says, “we’re in Spinal Tap right now”; bassist Frankie Poullain IS Derek Smalls; the drummer that starts the movie is not the same one that ends it; and practically every scene ends on an expertly delivered deadpan one-liner, some that the band are clearly reaching for, others more “these go up to 11”, like when Justin Hawkins critiques their first gig with drummer Emily Davies by saying: “People like what I call ‘a man/woman mixed band.’”

I could go on… and I will. Filmed from 2015 onwards, we first find the band on a comeback trail that they freely admit is not going as they had hoped – far from being back in the arenas that they briefly dominated in the mid 2000s, the band are playing pubs in Ireland. Small pubs. Their equivalent to Spinal Tap’s airbase. It’s here where we realise just how seriously the band take not taking themselves too seriously. As a group that lived the cliché they once pretended to be (superstardom, millions of record sales, drug abuse on a level that Justin Hawkins calls “method”, fallouts and an inevitable, sudden split), the Darkness of 2015 vitally avoided allowing their egos to sabotage their enjoyment of playing some pretty ridiculous music together again, even if it is to so few people. “It’s so preposterous you have to live it,” says Hawkins when addressing the age old question of if The Darkness are for real or taking the piss. Of course, it doesn’t matter, and what Welcome to The Darkness does just as well as This Is Spinal Tap, is balance the cucumbers in the pants with a story of love and heart, particularly around the rebuilding of the relationship between brothers Dan and Justin Hawkins as, characteristically, the band stubbornly bounce back.