In my brief career as a writer for The Cheese, I have yet to bestow the full five stars on any film or album I’ve reviewed. Surely I’m not going to give up my cherry for a sequel its director claimed would never happen to a decade-old incredibly low-budget black’n’white b-movie?
As unlikely as it sounds, just as the original was a hard sell (two guys work dead-end jobs. Talk shit. Things go wrong. In black’n’white), once you see the film you’ll understand. It makes you wonder why Kevin Smith ever left his View-Askewniverse behind to make the lamentable Jersey Girl, but you’ll forgive him, and thank god he’s back, with the first belly laugh. That’s the reason for three of the stars; it’s fucking funny. Top to tail. FUCKING funny.
Pardon my profanity, but if that offends you, you don’t want to see this film, and you have my pity. You also won’t have seen the legendary original, which is something of a prerequisite. For those of you still reading, here’s what makes; a decade(ish) on, Dante & Randal, now 33, are flipping burgers at Smith-staple McDisney piss-take Mooby’s. Dante’s engaged and about to start a new life in Florida, but hiding a secret love for their boss Becky (Dawson), the ray of sunlight beaming through the filth-flecked curtains over the Clerks’ eyes. Trevor Rehmann is adorably hilarious as teenage counter-jockey Elias. Oh, and Jay and Silent Bob, thank god, are still hanging around being oddly genius.
The curve of the film fits like a favourite pair of All-Stars; dead-end jobs worked, absurdly offensive, hysterical things said by Randal, horribly bad events occur, big row, Jay and Silent Bob oddly genius. This may be the best example of “If it ain’t broke…” in history, ever. Smith references his own and his favourite films (by turns oddly warming and amusingly terrifying) whilst using Randal as his mouthpiece (what the hell is there to dislike about Transformers?) and he’s smart enough to riff on the fact that Dante has, for the second time in two films, landed two women a pug-faced whinger like him could never pull.
One way in which Clerks II actually outdoes its predecessor is its heart. Randal’s SFW attitude crumbles and cracks, the film pursuing a logical path amidst its unlikely occurrences as our “heroes” realise they’re not getting any younger, with a hugely satisfying conclusion which refuses to pander to cliché or sentiment. This brings us to the reason for another star; the denouement discussion between Dante and Randal. With this scene, Kevin Smith bookends his career beautifully, and it might be the best piece of writing he’ll ever put his name to. The director made much of Jeff Anderson’s performance pre-release, and in earlier scenes it’s hard to see why – particularly when Jason Lee breezes in to blow everyone out of the water – but here he is truly exceptional. And you might even get teary. And during the donkey scene that’ll be the last thing on your mind.
So why am I giving this low-budget sequel my first perfect score? I could justifiably say that the film earns that final star with its most unexpected moment of sheer genius, what has to count as the greatest dance number in cinematic history. And I do not say that lightly. But fundamentally Clerks II demands your time as a perfectly judged slice of comedy gold which, with any justice, will be as revered as the original; nothing is wasted, every set-up, aside and pay-off will make you laugh, and for fans of the series, the conclusion will choke you up. If every Kevin Smith film were as good as the ones with “Clerks” in the title, it’d be “Quentin who?”. Right now, there’s renewed hope for the US comedy scene. Silent Bob in the motherfuckin’ house.