Let’s get this out of the way right now: the Smith & Wesson M&P .22 Magnum isn’t just another half-baked rimfire pistol hoping to win your affection with a flashy name and a cheap price tag. No, this thing actually works—and in the world of .22 Mag self-loading pistols, that’s kind of a big deal.
Because let’s face it, rimfire semi-autos have a bit of a reputation. You never quite know if you’re going to get a smooth shooting day at the range or a hands-on lesson in malfunction clearance drills. Between dirty powder, soft case rims, and bullet seating straight out of the 19th century, rimfire cartridges—especially the long-suffering .22 LR—have given many of us fits. But the .22 Magnum? That’s a different animal entirely. Jacketed bullets crimped properly in place, beefier case construction, and a little more punch to boot. And this M&P runs it like a champ.
Let’s Talk About the Cartridge First
If you’ve ever experienced a .22 LR dud or stovepipe (and let’s be honest, you have), you’ll understand the appeal of the .22 Magnum’s tighter tolerances and overall beefier design. It’s still rimfire, so perfection isn’t guaranteed—but in my testing, this M&P .22 Magnum went through 1,600 rounds with zero malfunctions. That’s right, zero. No stove pipes, no failures to fire, no weak extraction, no tantrums from the magazine. Just bang, cycle, repeat.
And this wasn’t cherry-picked match ammo either. We threw three brands of .22 Mag at it—30, 40, and 45 grain loads—and it chugged through them like a hungry squirrel on Red Bull. The 40-grain stuff remains my favorite (I’m old-school like that), but I have to admit the lighter and heavier rounds ran just as well.
That Weird, Wonderful Tempo Barrel System
So how exactly does Smith & Wesson make this gun run so well when most .22 Mag autos choke on their own ambitions? Enter the “Tempo” barrel system. It’s a clever little piece of engineering, borrowed from S&W’s 5.7×28 pistol, that uses a two-piece barrel—basically a barrel inside a sleeve—and some trick gas-delaying wizardry. Gas is bled off near the muzzle, keeping the barrel locked until the bullet exits. Add in a subtle rotating barrel (not quite Beretta PX4-level, but enough to torque the spent case loose), and you’ve got a remarkably clean, consistent cycling system.
Translation: the thing runs smooth, doesn’t eat itself alive, and doesn’t turn your hands black from excess fouling. That’s a win-win-win in rimfire territory.
Ergonomics, Build, and “Oh Hey, It’s Got a Hammer!”
Unlike the striker-fired parade of polymer pistols flooding the market, the M&P .22 Magnum is hammer-fired. That’s not just a fun throwback—it’s actually part of what helps deliver a crisp, clean 4-pound trigger pull. There’s a modern trigger safety, ambidextrous controls, and a slide lock that doesn’t require Hulk hands to operate. The frame is polymer, but the slide is black-coated stainless steel, so corrosion can take a hike.
There’s an accessory rail up front if you want to mount a light (because why wouldn’t you?), and the grip texture is classic M&P—grippy enough to hang onto in the rain but not so aggressive it sands your skin off. For a 22-ounce gun with a 4.35-inch barrel and overall length of 8.4 inches, the balance is solid. No nose-diving, no top-heavy feel, just a comfortable-to-shoot rimfire that doesn’t feel like a toy.
30-Round Magazines… Yes, Thirty
S&W includes two 30-round magazines with the pistol, which is either the best idea ever or a very sneaky way to make you burn through ammo like you’re printing money in your basement. Fortunately, the mags are easy to load. I stuck with 25 rounds just because my ammo boxes were packed in 50s, but they’ll easily take the full thirty if you feel like getting ambitious.
Just be warned: once you start letting those rounds fly, you’re going to go through them quick. You might tell yourself you’re just “function testing,” but you’ll end up blowing through half a brick of ammo before you even realize it.
Ammo Compatibility: Not All Rounds Are Created Equal
Now here’s the part where I give you the responsible disclaimer: not all .22 Magnum ammo feeds equally in semi-autos. Some off-brand loads (looking at you, Fiocchi) have thinner brass, and occasionally you’ll get a dented case that decides not to eject. I had two short cycles during the first magazine—probably just break-in hiccups—and one or two jams from wonky ammo. But when I stuck to CCI MaxiMag and Federal Punch, the gun ran like a Swiss watch.
Takeaway? Stick to reputable ammo and you’ll be in good shape. Experiment with the cheap stuff if you want, but keep your expectations in check and your cleaning kit nearby.
Range Time: A Plinker With Purpose
Let me just say it: this pistol is fun. Whether you’re shredding tin cans, tapping range debris at 40 yards, or doing your best John Wick impression on steel plates, the M&P .22 Magnum is a blast. Recoil is minimal, muzzle rise is nearly non-existent, and the sights (fiber optic front, notch rear) are easy to pick up quickly.
I mounted the pistol in my trusty MTM Caseguard K-Zone plastic rest for a little bench shooting, and the groups were more than respectable. With CCI 40-grain ammo, I managed 2-inch groups. Federal Punch turned in a tight 1.8-inch cluster, which is great for a rimfire semi-auto. Would I hunt squirrels with this gun? Absolutely. Would I carry it for self-defense? That depends.
Final Thoughts: Is It Worth It?
Let’s be real: .22 Magnum isn’t cheap anymore. You’re going to pay close to what you’d spend on 9mm, and with those 30-round mags, you’ll burn through a box faster than you can say “plinker’s paradise.” But what you’re getting here is a reliable, accurate, ridiculously fun pistol that could easily double as a small-game hunter or a backup piece for folks who want something low-recoil and still decently effective.
For new shooters, this pistol is gold. For experienced shooters, it’s a refreshing break from the serious, heavy-hitting stuff. And for folks like me who grew up with jam-o-matic .22s, it’s a bit of sweet redemption.
So yeah—the S&W M&P .22 Magnum might just be the rimfire pistol you didn’t know you needed. And if you do pick one up, don’t blame me when you’re down to your last box of ammo and grinning like a kid at a carnival.
