Whatever criticisms might be lobbed at Clerks III — most of them valid — it is undeniably the film Kevin Smith set out to make. The director’s third visit to the Quick Stop is part reunion, part remake, part midlife crisis, and only partly funny. But there’s also a sincerity that elevates it and a vulnerability that makes it unique from the rest of his work. It’s Smith’s best film in over a decade, make of that what you will.
Smith wrote the script for this trilogy-capper after suffering a near-fatal heart attack several years back and once again pulls from real life for this latest installment, which finds convenience store owners Dante (Brian O’Halloran) and Randal (Jeff Anderson) making a movie about their life experiences (called Inconvenience, the original title for Clerks) after Randal suffers his own “widow-maker.”
There’s a strong case to be made that this is a two-hour version of a snake eating its own tail, allowing Smith to relive past glories by turning the making of his first film into a fictionalized account (Smith himself has acknowledged the ouroboros comparison elsewhere in more graphic terms). But meta has long been part of the View Askew brand, and Smith’s far from the first filmmaker to go autobiographical; indeed, both Sam Mendes and Steven Spielberg are releasing their own cinematic origin stories later this year. Smith’s voice might be more rough around the edges, but that doesn’t make his story any less worthy of telling.
There’s no version of this movie that works for those unfamiliar with Smith’s career, which is probably why the film is forgoing a traditional release and instead operating as a week-only Fathom event before Smith takes it on the road for fans. For fans, the film will likely be a delight. Dante and Randal have long been two of Smith’s most fully realized and enjoyable characters, and O’Halloran and Anderson slip back into their old roles quite easily. The two have a strong chemistry, and Anderson in particular chews on Smith’s profane but often very funny dialogue better than anyone not named Jason Lee. Smith’s always been strongest as a writer, and he gives Randal some blisteringly funny lines, particularly when he’s unleashing a pop culture-laden diatribe or bantering alongside his Jesus freak coworker Elias (Trevor Fehrman). By centering the story on Randal instead of Dante and giving him a brush with death, Smith is also able to sand off some of the character’s more abrasive edges.
Smith’s own brush with mortality seems to have reinvigorated the filmmaker, and there’s a sense of gratitude that flows through it, as if Smith is using Clerks III to express how thankful he is for a silly career that lets him play with his friends all day. He doesn’t toss out the raunch, but dials it back in favor of an endearing sense of camaraderie. Where Randal seemed relentless in his quest to unmoor Elias’ faith in Clerks 2 and there was a mean-spirited joy to his harassment of the character, here their relationship is more endearing. There’s less vitriol directed at the Quick Stop customers. Even Jay and Silent Bob are dialed back, although they haven’t gained much insight over the decades (the duo now runs a dispensary in the former video store next to the Quick Stop, and the film opens with a funny gag about their discomfort in doing things on the up and up now that pot is legal).
The film’s geniality papers over the fact that the humor often flags and its story is flimsy. A new faith struggle for Elias is funny in concept but leads to a series of increasingly outlandish costumes, and the film’s second act is basically just a sequence of Clerks in-jokes and an endless parade of cameos. Much of the film is dedicated to remaking Clerks for an audience that has essentially memorized Clerks, and those moments alternate between funny and feeling like a middle-aged man constantly regaling the youngsters with stories from his high school days. It will be interesting to see whether Smith’s audience eats up another retelling of the stories he’s been dining out on for nearly thirty years.
More successful are the surprising emotional places Smith takes his characters. As might be expected from a story where he recounts his own near-death experience, Smith abandons the comedy in several places to take his characters to darker into more fraught emotional waters, not only with Randal’s health issues and re-examination of his life, but by also giving Dante his own traumas to unpack. The film’s back half hour, in particular, goes for long stretches without jokes, and O’Halloran and Anderson acquit themselves well with the heavier material. Smith’s direction and writing may be a tad on the nose, but there’s an honesty that feels more vital and real than anything the director’s done since Chasing Amy.
(From left) Trevor Fehrman, Brian O’Halloran, Rosario Dawson, and Jeff Anderson in “Clerks III.”
But Smith doesn’t seem to trust himself with the heavier moments, and too often undercuts them with gags, leading to long stretches that struggle with tonal whiplash. Characters will be on the verge of tears and then a sex joke or gag about cryptocurrency — of which there are many, none of them funny — will push the film back from getting too real. It’s understandable that Smith wants to leaven what’s largely a nostalgic romp with some laughs, but the calculation is too often off, especially in the film’s final 10 minutes, which struggle to be heartbreaking and silly in the same breath.
And yet, there’s something enjoyable about Clerks III in spite of these flaws. In an age where every film is crafted in a nice package that allows franchises to continue with no hiccups and without the burden of a filmmaker’s voice, it’s refreshing to get a movie that’s a franchise film and a personal story at the same time. It’s enjoyable not because it’s flawless, but because after nearly 30 years, the flaws are recognizably Smith’s. It might not be a masterpiece, but it’s a statement, and the personal touch is refreshing.
And that’s worth acknowledging. In four different decades, Kevin Smith has told stories about original characters pulled from his imagination to fans who’ve shown remarkable loyalty, and he’s made and often distributed these movies his way. So if he’s lost the fastball he had back in the mid-nineties, it’s still a pleasant surprise to see that he still has stories left to tell — like Clerks III — and his enthusiasm for making movies is infectious. Not bad for a man, who by Hollywood standards, shouldn’t even be here today.
