Review of Clerks (1994) by Carlos M — 18 Oct 2014

This movie changed my life. In so many ways. All my life I've wanted to be a director, or a cinematographer, or a screenwriter, or anything. My dream has always been to make my own movie. But that's not going to happen.

I'm not going to find money for it. I wouldn't be able to find a distributor. And I would fail inevitably. But this guy, this random twenty-four year old fat kid from New Jersey made a 27,000 dollar, black and white movie with a bunch of his friends, paying for it by maxing out credit cards and taking money from his parents.

What a stupid idea. Obviously, he should have dropped it then and there and spent the rest of his life paying off the debt working at some convenience store. Obviously. But that is so not what happened.

Instead, he sold the movie to Miramax and has since developed an iconic film series, a podcasting empire, a bottomless succession of unforgettable characters and a net worth of twenty-five million dollars.

How. How does that even happen. Was it just because this movie was so good that people from Miramax felt so inclined that they promptly purchased and distributed the picture? Almost certainly not. Did Smith simply get lucky? Maybe.

Was it out of sheer persistence? Probably. Clerks is now regarded as a cult classic and a major film success story. Now I've been blabbing on about how inspirational it is and what an effect its had on me for long enough.

So, how is the movie itself? Pretty fascinating. It's about this twenty something trying to get ahold of his life. He lives in a material world, surrounds himself with people he hates, and is miserable every hour of the day.

Dante Hicks is a sincere and accurate portrayal of the typical 1994 idler. But, and here's the really fascinating part: he's not a "lovable slacker". He's not like Dewey Finn, or Scott Pilgrim, or god forbid, Troy Dyer.

He's not some washed-up, jobless Seth Rogen/Jack Black type, which, despite its occasional effectiveness, has been done to death. Yes, he's sympathetic, humorous, and pathetic, but his pitiableness isn't played for laughs.

His lack of a steady job, higher education, and economic stability is supposed to be tragic, which it is. Clerks portrays life in a wildly realistic way. The movie is one long conversation between two people and the people they encounter.

It has an infatuation with weird or interesting people and the stories they tell, the things they say, their strong beliefs, and their deepest tendencies. Dante hates his job at Quick Stop Groceries, and most people hate their job, but Dante despises it.

He hates it so much yet it is a huge part of him and his life. Again, most people detest their occupation, but the difference between him and thousands of others is that he can quit. He should be going to college, his job barely pays, and he's already living in his parents house.

He doesn't have a family to support, he hasn't spent years climbing the ladder of success, and he doesn't need this job. There is nothing stopping him from going out and doing something with his life, and, deep down, he knows that.

But, like most of us, he's utterly terrified of failure. He'd rather confine to what he's been doing and hate it, then try to do something he loves and suffer through the potential consequences.

Then there's his alter ego, Randal. He works at RST Video Inc. next door, yet spends most of his time in the Quick Stop. He, like Dante, knows he's pathetic, but he, unlike Dante, can kind of accept that.

He learned to tolerate his job by not doing it. He shows up and watches movies, reads comic books, talks to Dante, pretty much everything except doing his job. He's comically materialistic, he gets down on his knees when he enters a quality video store, he's disgustingly insensitive, he sabotages a funeral, and he's remarkably hilarious.

And the two of them make the best on screen duo this side of Holden and Banky. They're Vladimir and Estragon, idly watching their short and meaningless lives slip through their fingers and do nothing about it.

Two people sitting on a long stretch of barren road, waiting for anything. They both have issues, and although they deal with them in very different ways, they're both equally hurt by them, deep down.

Their problems escalate, and get worse and worse, and then it ends. Nothing is tied up, nothing is packaged for us, nothing gets better. It just ends. And that's life. They're both smart guys, and they seem to know what they're doing, but in the end, the come up short by a lot.

But then there's another duo. A bizarre, vulgar pair of Gen X-ers who, like Dante and Randall, are directionless, clueless, and uproarious. Unlike Dante and Randall, they love their lives and all the nothing they do.

I am talking, of course, of the immortal and iconic duo of Jay and Silent Bob. Jay is hyper and insane, and Silent Bob is profound and incorporeal. They are the essential modern comedy twosome. So, to recap, Dante and Randall seem to be balanced and intelligent, but really have no idea what they're doing, and Jay and Silent Bob seem to be vapid and inadequate, but are really happier and more at peace with themselves than anyone else in this movie.

Jay and Silent Bob are who we want to be, Dante and Randall are who we are. There's also the interesting camera work, which is surprisingly dynamic. Sometimes, the camera switches between two people in a conversation as if the audience is a third person observing the scene.

And of course, there are unforgettable sequences such as Berserker, The Eggman, and The Milkmaid, as well as sweeping philosophical insight such as Randall's argument that title shouldn't dictate behavior, free will has no impact on personal responsibility, the effect of one's own self-evaluation on their sanity, and what the destruction of Vader's Deathstar meant for those building it.

Clerks is a profound and beautiful period piece and one of my favorite movies of all time.