Clerks II
Commencement.
Alright, let’s get this out of the way first: Clerks II is wholly inappropriate and offensive. F-bombs drop without a second thought. Drug references abound. Characters come off as intentionally nasty, yet unapologetic. Nothing, apparently, is sexually taboo. In other words, if you have delicate sensibilities, you’ll want to steer farther away from this movie than Jar Jar Binks cosplayers steer from Comic-Con.
However, if you ask yourself: “Why does this Kevin Smith guy have such an avid and savvy fan base? Why will this movie make millions of dollars? Why are Jay and Silent Bob pop-culture phenoms? Why does something like Clerks II pass, not only as entertainment in this country, but as good entertainment, according to most critics?� then you’re just going to have to go see this movie, like Luke sees Yoda, Anakin, and Obi-Wan at the end of Jedi. And if and when you do, you may just find that there are some satisfying answers to be had to your questions.
Recounting.
If you loved the nineties like I did, then you probably saw the original Clerks, and maybe some other Smith films, and if so, you know the basic premise of Clerks II. (Ah, the nineties. I was actually a clerk at a convenience store when the original helped to change the face of cinema, and it was like Smith was speaking right to me . . . but I digress). This ten-years-later tale finds Dante and Randal—the stereotypical slacker stars of the original, back when the slacker became stereotype—doing the same thing they were doing when we last saw them: working McJobs and not really going anywhere, because they don’t know where to go or how to go there.
But whereas the original had a looser, dialogue-centered, Seinfeldian feel, Clerks II, plotwise, feels much more like a “real movie.� Dante is about to leave New Jersey for Florida and get married. This creates conflict between him and Randal, who are “hetero life-mates� to use one of my favorite Smithisms, and between him and his boss—(Rosario Dawson) perhaps the girl he should really be with. So: should he stay or should he go? Continue that slacker lifestyle, or grow up?
All of this works out, of course, against the backdrop of the static restaurant setting where, yes, most of the main characters are clerks. And, of course, much irreverent hilarity is interspersed—including requisite cameos from Smith’s troupe of actors, witty geek chic debates, slapstick, running gags, and Jay and Silent Bob interludes—all building up to a climax (ahem) involving “interspecies erotica� and the epiphany the characters all need.
Explication.
Speaking of the donkey show (since everyone else will be), is it crazy of me to interpret that scene as some sort of central metaphor? The story does lead up to it, after all. It is the scene where the character changes that bring about the end of the movie begin. It is the ultimate example—though we may rightly object to it specifically—of people doing what seems right to them, and other people being okay with that. The supreme, and supremely inappropriate, visual aid for Smith’s message of non-conformity when it comes to “what we’re supposed to do,� but conformity when it comes to what we think we should do.
Of course, this is also the central idea that inevitably provokes line-drawing—and Smith knows this too. He may not go so far as to say that bestiality is okay, but he certainly wants to question social norms, and traditional roles, and common expectations, etc., and he wants us to too. And if, like Dante by the end of Clerks II, we’ve done so to the point of self-realization or actualization, or whatever—if we’ve done so to the point that we begin to do what we really want to do with ourselves—then I’ll bet Smith would be happier than Han Solo at the Mos Eisley Cantina.
And let us also not forget the usual-for-Smith religious overtones in this context. By the beginning of this film, Jay and Silent Bob, apparently, have found God in rehab. They’re newly Christian and trying to be clean, but (of course) failing. That’s their newly found version of what they think they should do, and Smith makes it clear that imperfections along that road are okay—going so far as to feature a clearly visible bible verse on a wall near the end of the movie. The verse? A quote from Jesus, which says: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.�
In that same scene, tellingly, when it comes time for Silent Bob to finally break his silence and give the sage words of Jedi-wisdom he always seems to have in the View-Askewniverse, he says only, “I got nothing.� He knows that line-drawing and destiny-finding are hard given the way that things are. And even though the character would like to help Dante, maybe Silent Bob felt (and Smith feels) that the writing on the wall is already apparent. And clearer.
Denouement.
So, if it hasn’t been obvious yet, I’m a fan of Kevin Smith and his movies. I appreciate his take on growing-up (whatever that means) and being an adult (whatever that means), and I appreciate that amidst the humor, he takes his thematic material seriously (whatever that means). And I’m also a fan of this movie. It was nostalgic and funny and inappropriate and good-natured in the end, with hints at spirituality in the right places.
In the end, Clerks II is about failures who end up finally trying. Slackers who somehow stop slacking—just like me, and maybe like you. And, just like me and maybe you, it’s about people finally relying on friends, and love, and humor, and even God for help along the way.
Alright, let’s get this out of the way first: Clerks II is wholly inappropriate and offensive. F-bombs drop without a second thought. Drug references abound. Characters come off as intentionally nasty, yet unapologetic. Nothing, apparently, is sexually taboo. In other words, if you have delicate sensibilities, you’ll want to steer farther away from this movie than Jar Jar Binks cosplayers steer from Comic-Con.
However, if you ask yourself: “Why does this Kevin Smith guy have such an avid and savvy fan base? Why will this movie make millions of dollars? Why are Jay and Silent Bob pop-culture phenoms? Why does something like Clerks II pass, not only as entertainment in this country, but as good entertainment, according to most critics?� then you’re just going to have to go see this movie, like Luke sees Yoda, Anakin, and Obi-Wan at the end of Jedi. And if and when you do, you may just find that there are some satisfying answers to be had to your questions.
Recounting.
If you loved the nineties like I did, then you probably saw the original Clerks, and maybe some other Smith films, and if so, you know the basic premise of Clerks II. (Ah, the nineties. I was actually a clerk at a convenience store when the original helped to change the face of cinema, and it was like Smith was speaking right to me . . . but I digress). This ten-years-later tale finds Dante and Randal—the stereotypical slacker stars of the original, back when the slacker became stereotype—doing the same thing they were doing when we last saw them: working McJobs and not really going anywhere, because they don’t know where to go or how to go there.
But whereas the original had a looser, dialogue-centered, Seinfeldian feel, Clerks II, plotwise, feels much more like a “real movie.� Dante is about to leave New Jersey for Florida and get married. This creates conflict between him and Randal, who are “hetero life-mates� to use one of my favorite Smithisms, and between him and his boss—(Rosario Dawson) perhaps the girl he should really be with. So: should he stay or should he go? Continue that slacker lifestyle, or grow up?
All of this works out, of course, against the backdrop of the static restaurant setting where, yes, most of the main characters are clerks. And, of course, much irreverent hilarity is interspersed—including requisite cameos from Smith’s troupe of actors, witty geek chic debates, slapstick, running gags, and Jay and Silent Bob interludes—all building up to a climax (ahem) involving “interspecies erotica� and the epiphany the characters all need.
Explication.
Speaking of the donkey show (since everyone else will be), is it crazy of me to interpret that scene as some sort of central metaphor? The story does lead up to it, after all. It is the scene where the character changes that bring about the end of the movie begin. It is the ultimate example—though we may rightly object to it specifically—of people doing what seems right to them, and other people being okay with that. The supreme, and supremely inappropriate, visual aid for Smith’s message of non-conformity when it comes to “what we’re supposed to do,� but conformity when it comes to what we think we should do.
Of course, this is also the central idea that inevitably provokes line-drawing—and Smith knows this too. He may not go so far as to say that bestiality is okay, but he certainly wants to question social norms, and traditional roles, and common expectations, etc., and he wants us to too. And if, like Dante by the end of Clerks II, we’ve done so to the point of self-realization or actualization, or whatever—if we’ve done so to the point that we begin to do what we really want to do with ourselves—then I’ll bet Smith would be happier than Han Solo at the Mos Eisley Cantina.
And let us also not forget the usual-for-Smith religious overtones in this context. By the beginning of this film, Jay and Silent Bob, apparently, have found God in rehab. They’re newly Christian and trying to be clean, but (of course) failing. That’s their newly found version of what they think they should do, and Smith makes it clear that imperfections along that road are okay—going so far as to feature a clearly visible bible verse on a wall near the end of the movie. The verse? A quote from Jesus, which says: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.�
In that same scene, tellingly, when it comes time for Silent Bob to finally break his silence and give the sage words of Jedi-wisdom he always seems to have in the View-Askewniverse, he says only, “I got nothing.� He knows that line-drawing and destiny-finding are hard given the way that things are. And even though the character would like to help Dante, maybe Silent Bob felt (and Smith feels) that the writing on the wall is already apparent. And clearer.
Denouement.
So, if it hasn’t been obvious yet, I’m a fan of Kevin Smith and his movies. I appreciate his take on growing-up (whatever that means) and being an adult (whatever that means), and I appreciate that amidst the humor, he takes his thematic material seriously (whatever that means). And I’m also a fan of this movie. It was nostalgic and funny and inappropriate and good-natured in the end, with hints at spirituality in the right places.
In the end, Clerks II is about failures who end up finally trying. Slackers who somehow stop slacking—just like me, and maybe like you. And, just like me and maybe you, it’s about people finally relying on friends, and love, and humor, and even God for help along the way.
