The do-nothing duo: Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Kevin Smith) reunite in the film Clerks II. Courtesy Weinstein Company/Alliance Atlantis.
Is anyone in Hollywood more sentimental than Kevin Smith? The filmmaker’s entire body of work is steeped in syrup. Witness his characters’ windy discursions on “classic” entertainment (Star Wars, Marvel Comics, The Transformers); his participation in the latest Degrassi TV series (the fulfillment of a lifelong dream); his starry-eyed view of love. But his most troubling inclination, by far, was making a sequel to his first film, Clerks.
Let’s indulge Smith’s nostalgia for a moment and return to his breakthrough. Shot in suburban New Jersey on a famously small budget, Clerks (1994) captured the seething resentment of workers in the service sector. Dante Hicks (Brian O’Halloran) is an embittered but ultimately responsible clerk at the Quick Stop convenience store; his equally embittered friend, Randall Graves (Jeff Anderson), mans the counter at the adjacent video store. Dante resents his customers but remains courteous; Randall simply lets the invective fly. Meanwhile, out in the parking lot, petulant stoner Jay (Jason Mewes) deals pot and assaults people with his sordid sex fantasies while his taciturn sidekick, Silent Bob (Smith himself), nods in assent. With its vibrant characters and wickedly lewd language, Clerks demonstrated that good writing can help a film transcend stiff acting, graceless cinematography and generally slapdash plotting. Clerks turned out to be more than a box-office success; it became a cultural touchstone.
It also became the inspiration for every Kevin Smith movie that followed. The director’s fans were so enamoured of Clerks’ characters that Smith couldn’t bear to abandon them in successive films like Mallrats (1995), Chasing Amy (1997) and Dogma (1999). In 2001, Smith stopped futzing around and gave his best characters their own starring vehicle; the result was the enjoyably daft Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back.
If Clerks was a paean to the aimlessness of youth, Clerks II asks at what point slackers should get serious. Not a terribly original premise, and rest assured, Smith tackles it with the utmost lack of finesse. Twelve years on, Dante and Randall have graduated from the Quick Stop to a fast-food joint called Mooby’s. (“Graduated” is putting it euphemistically; Randall accidentally burned the old place down.) Here, the odd couple slings insults and burgers at a ratio of about five to one.
Uniformly bored: Randall Graves (Jeff Anderson) and Dante Hicks (Brian O'Halloran) as short-order cooks in Clerks II. Courtesy Weinstein Company/Alliance Atlantis.
Clerks provided a refreshingly uncensored view of the male psyche. In its sequel, Dante and Randall are older and a little doughier but still preoccupied with sex and Star Wars. At one point in Clerks II, Randall argues with a customer that the Star Wars saga is vastly superior to the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The exchange is appropriately absurd — but also exhausted. Dante and Randall’s arrested development is one of the film’s ongoing jokes, but there’s nothing funny about Smith’s stagnation. Woody Allen is another filmmaker who’s made a career of his neuroses, but at least the Woodman feels compelled to create new settings and characters now and again.
The key detail in Clerks II is that it’s Dante’s last day at Mooby’s. He’s about to marry his girlfriend, Emma (Jennifer Schwalbach Smith), and move to Florida, where her wealthy parents are planning to set them up on easy street. Those rosy plans are complicated by Dante’s feelings for his boss, Becky (Rosario Dawson). When Becky asks Dante about his wedding plans, she listens with feigned excitement. Typically a poised performer, Dawson seems unsure whether to play Becky straight or sardonic. Who can blame her? For all its playful obscenity, Smith’s script is full of slushy ruminations on love. How can anyone be expected to keep a straight face? Even so, Dawson is still a more compelling presence than either O’Halloran or Anderson; their ability to recite lines has improved some, but they’re still light years from being actors.
Smith promised that the sequel to Clerks would be ruder than the original. It was no idle boast. In tribute to Dante, Randall arranges a stag party that’s as debauched as anything ever staged in a mainstream film. But like the rest of Clerks II, the sequence is vile without being particularly droll. That’s largely because it leads to an ending that’s as gooey as the romantic comedies Smith has always strived to mock.
Was Smith born a softie or did he only recently become one? His attachment to Canada’s beloved Degrassi series provides a clue. A couple of years ago, the filmmaker told a reporter, “The first time I watched [Degrassi Junior High], I thought this is insanely melodramatic, and by the end of the episode I was weeping.” Well, there you have it. Kevin Smith’s career is indirectly our fault. Truly, a reason to blame Canada.
Clerks II opens July 21 across Canada.
Andre Mayer writes about the arts for CBC.ca.
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