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Massawyrm Orders Up An Egg-a-Mooby-Muffin And Digs Into CLERKS 2!!


Hola all. Massawyrm here.

Snoogins. Snoochie-Boochies. Snooch to the Nooch. The profound words of my generation’s leading poet – a man brazenly assaulting the intellectual elite with the musings of the common man. Dostoyevsky? Borges? Kafa? Idiots. Morons. Literary nothings when compared with the epic prose of Mr. Kevin Smith. I mean, who doesn’t weep tears every time the words Thirty Seven crosses their lips. Clerks was like Doctor Zhivago in a convenience store. Mallrats…like um…Doctor Zhivago…in a mall. Chasing amy? Again, Doctor Zhivago…with a lesbo. I mean, have you seen Doctor Zhivago lately? Three and a half hours of nonstop dick jokes.

All blatant kidding aside, Smith’s films have played an important role in the history of my generation. His first film, Clerks, was the first film to shine the light on a growing subculture of intelligent folks caught in cycle of dead end jobs that most hold to be a place for life’s throwbacks. You jockey a slurpy machine because you can’t do anything else. That’s society’s thinking. The people who do those jobs do them because they have nowhere else to go and nothing else to contribute. Right?

Well, Clerks spoke to me as it spoke to many of you reading this. It was a film about Us, the guys who have fallen through the cracks, not lived up to the potential everyone told us we had, or just plain were too chicken shit to go for the big score. It was about our bitterness, our frustration, but most importantly, it was about how we saw the people on the other side of the counter - all the idiots who would gladly look down on us for our lot in life at the exact same moment they were being fucking Re-Re’s themselves.

Many of us have an affinity for Kevin’s work because we came from the same place he did. Hell, both Moriarty and I share the burden of having toiled for several years of our lives Jockeying a video return counter. Me, I did it for a solid six and a half years. Six and a half years. I often wince when I say that.

Enter Clerks 2, Kevin’s return to both to the Jersey Saga and serious filmmaking. When he initially said he was going back to the well, he wasn’t kidding. He’s really going back to the well. This isn’t at all like the over-the-top almost self-parody of Strike Back, on the contrary, this is Kevin Smith with something to say – saying it once again with his trademark “lowbrow for the highbrow” wit.

While the first two-thirds of the film really seem to be merely an extension of the original, by the third act you see very clearly how he’s woven everything together into a clear and concise message. There’s no parade of cross film characters, no endless stream of in jokes from other films. Like Clerks and Chasing Amy before it, this film is about telling one, small, elegant story – not about how that story fits into every other story in the universe.

Yes, Kevin is back to say something to all the frustrated geek boys out there about their lot in life. And yet, I can’t help but think he’s admitting something of himself in this piece; admitting that he’s not the big budget Hollywood guy he once upon a time was hyped to become. He’s a Jersey guy, telling Jersey stories and he’s happy with that. This more subtle message seems to permeate every frame of this film.

Yes, I know. He said he was never going back to Jersey. And some of you believed him. Personally, when I heard him say that he was done with the Jersey cycle, I laughed. Yeah, right. And this is Cher’s last tour, too. Come on. Get over it. You do what you know. You do what you’re good at. Kevin’s good at making us laugh – he’s good at telling stories, not about glamorous characters or action heroes, but about dudes. Real dudes. Guys you hang out with, guys who may be just a tad bit too close to yourself for comfort. That’s what he does. And he does it very, very well.

So now he’s back doing it again. And fans will not be disappointed. With Clerks 2, Kevin avoids simply telling the same jokes from the first film, and instead tells all new ones. Oh sure, he goes back for a couple pop culture rants including a beautifully merciless changing of the guard as the LotR geeks have a field day rocking all over the Holy Trilogy (genuflect when you say that, mother fucker.) And we even get a single “Randal” for the fans who feel this wouldn’t be complete without it. But Kevin isn’t simply winking at the camera and coasting on old material to keep him in business. It’s not just some cast off sequel or “further adventures of.” This is an honest to god extension in theme, mood and tone to the original. It’s Kevin, all grown up and finishing the story in a way he wasn’t old enough or mature enough to do earlier in his career. And it’s funny as fuck.

While Dante, Randal, Jay and Silent Bob are back, this film is flush with a whole new cast of co-workers and characters that allow the film to feel fresh. But the two real standouts are Rosario Dawson and Trevor Fehrman. You know, I never got Rosario Dawson. She’s a fine actress and definitely “Hollywood Hot” – but she never did it for me.

My friends have been all about her for years (and yes, completely went nuts during that sequence in Alexander) and it wasn’t until seeing her here that I really got it. Seeing her dress down and play the girl-next-door really let her natural beauty, charm and charisma shine through. She’s radiant, adorable…and in this film, a geeks wet dream.

When the all-too-bizarre music video portion of the film kicks in (probably the single biggest WTF, as well as self indulgent, moment in the film), well, if you don’t fall in love with Rosario, there’s no saving you. She’s genuinely funny and comfortable in this film and hits every single note perfectly.

Then there’s Trevor Fehrman. God damnit is this kid funny. Probably the single greatest addition to the Jersey-verse since Banky Edwards. Fehrman’s Elias allows Smith to nail both Internet geeks and religious fanatics in one fell swoop. This kid plays functionally retarded like nobodies business and not only serves as the but of Randal’s scathing attacks, but also delivers some classic moments on his own. When he utters the words “I’m sorry, Jesus” you will simply lose it – and from that point on you can begin counting the number of times you and your friends repeat that line, until of course you lose count, because, you know, you will. And don’t try making up numbers either, because that’s horseshit. He’s funny, and I can’t wait to see him again in something else.

This is an ending, a real ending. This is Dante and Randal’s last ride. But it’s a good one, and both of these long beloved characters finally get the ending they deserve. Sure, it probably kills the hope many of us have harbored for the long talked about (by Kevin himself) Clerks animated film, but fuck it. This is good. This is the Clerks movie I wanted. Fans are going to find this everything they hoped, and nothing they were scared, that this movie would be. But for those tired of Smith or who never groked his humor, you’re probably just gonna find this more of the same. Sure, it’s different, but not different enough to change your mind on him.

Easily on par with the first, but not quite as emotional or amazing as Chasing Amy, this readily sits towards the top of Smith’s stack of films. Highly, highly recommended for anyone who’s ever laughed at his films, not recommended for anyone who feels they’ve had more than enough of this guy.

I don’t know what Kevin’s up to next, but as usual, I can’t wait. Is he going to ever get to one of those big budget projects he’s been circling for years, or is this film his explanation to us that this is who he is, what he does, and he’ll be happy doing it the rest of his life? I don’t know, but either way I’m a happy little camper. This is Smith in top form, and I’ll take all of that I can get.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em. I know I will.

Massawyrm


As gross as those things look, I just have this nasty hankering for an Egg-a-Mooby-Muffin. Mooby run? Who’s with me? E-mail me here.





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