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Film review

Back behind the counter

Sometimes, good things do come to those who wait. Clerks II doesn't just rewalk old territory, it carries the cult fave to new places.

By STEVE PERSALL
Published July 20, 2006

Audiences hadn't seen or heard anything like Clerks when it debuted in 1994. It was an embarrassing revelation even to independent filmmakers pridefully building a new form of cinema outside the Hollywood loop.

Clerks was so outside the loop it was in New Jersey, made on a now-legendary $28,000 budget in black and white with extremely blue language.

Clerks made comedy of more nothingness than a season of Seinfeld, with a pair of unmotivated convenience store employees facing a long shift of wacky customers, rooftop hockey and sublimely profane conversation about the most trivial subjects. If you weren't laughing, you were gasping, and probably didn't stay in the theater too long.

Kevin Smith made the cult film of the decade, an increasingly tough act to follow.

How one feels about Clerks and Smith's career means everything when viewing Clerks II; it is either a rabidly awaited sequel or a desperate act by a one-trick pony. My attitude leans toward the former. I like Smith and some of his "ambitious" movies (Dogma, Chasing Amy, even Jersey Girl a bit). What I love is the wild abandon of his writing, even when it is clogging a film's rhythm, overstating its purpose or simply going too far beyond the boundaries of good taste. Actually, that's when I like him most.

Clerks II is nearly the original's equal in that regard. It is an immensely quotable movie, although not in a family newspaper or among faint-hearted listeners. Again we have Dante (Brian O'Halloran) and Randal (Jeff Anderson), 12 years older and working at Mooby's fast food restaurant after a fire at the Quik Stop store.

They're still tossing around freely associated wisecracks about deviant sex, racial slurs and which trilogy - Star Wars or Lord of the Rings - was better.

These cascading riffs benefit from the fact that O'Halloran and Anderson's acting skills have improved since their 1994 debuts. Smith's camera eye and pacing have improved a bit, too. After years of being chided for static shots, he almost tries too hard to give flow to the visuals. Any mistakes are those of ambition, though, and that isn't always bad.

A budget of $5-million doesn't hurt and doesn't get in the way, either. It allows Smith to take a few nifty detours from the store counter, including a peppy dance sequence set to the Jackson 5's ABC. More money and studio expectation also mean a conversion to color cinematography, introduced with cleverness and discarded as a wistful final touch.

Much of the old gang is here, especially Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Smith), who spun their Clerks appeal into a movie and merchandising. They're still an amusing duo, although Smith might be wise to heed his previous instincts to end their movie careers.

Two new characters expand Smith's slacker universe for the better: Rosario Dawson (Rent) is warm and sexy as the clerks' boss and as Dante's temptation from impending marriage, while Randal is distracted by tormenting a nerdy co-worker (Trevor Fehrman).

Perhaps the film's most outrageous sequence - not counting the donkey act - is sparked by Wanda Sykes and Earthquake as customers offended by a comment from Randal, and for a few minutes that old 1994 feeling comes back full force.

That it was ever missed is the best reason Clerks II deserves to be made. By 2006, audiences have seen and heard plenty of comedies using kinky sex and casual scatology as punch lines, few as abrasively cool as Clerks inspired filmmakers to attempt. Smith brilliantly created a blueprint for some of the worst movies today. Now he can show the pretenders a bit of what they're doing wrong.

Steve Persall can be reached at (727) 893-8365 or persall@sptimes.com.

[Last modified July 19, 2006, 10:50:50]