Clerks III (2022) | Film Review

In 1994, film changed. Independent films in particular. There was a noticeable swell of idyllic visionaries that exploded into popular culture that year, most notably were Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith. Tarantino obviously had momentum from his earlier efforts and had a completely different style, but he shared with Smith a quality that Hollywood desperately needed: that of an everyman. A writer and director who was as much a fan of pop culture as anything in indie culture. A respect for EVERYONE who loves movies, all shapes and sizes. Smith demonstrated to an entire generation that if you write what you know, put in the hours and life savings, maybe max out a few credit cards as well, you too can have a shot in Hollywood. Clerks, much like Pulp Fiction, was a revolution for up-and-coming filmmakers.

After a brief stop at Mooby’s for 2006’s Clerks II, Kevin Smith returns to the Quick Stop that made his career for a resounding finish to his Essential Workers Appreciation Trilogy with Clerks III. When we last saw Dante and Randal (Brian O’Halloran and Jeff Anderson), the two had purchased the Quick Stop, and Dante became engaged to a pregnant Becky (the forever radiant Rosario Dawson). Now, both guys still own the QS, but Dante lost Becky and his child to an accident years earlier, and Randal has become rudderless as he approaches middle age.

Life takes another hard turn for our hetero life-mates when Randal – emulating Kevin Smith’s own personal health history – suffers a Widow Maker. This heart attack takes out most who cross its path, but Randal remarkably survives. Once he recovers, he understands that he needs to put decades of useless cinema trivia to good use and make a film worthy of his own perceived cinematic brilliance. This “I could make a perfect movie” nonsense is the mentality of every fanboy I’ve ever met (myself included), and if there is one thing Kevin Smith is a master of, it’s knowing exactly who his audience is.

Randal hits the ground running, cranking out a screenplay in record time, and recruits Dante as his producer to handle the details. The past returns for the ride as our heroes are joined by Elias (Trevor Fehrman, spinning from Jesus to goth in record time this go-round), Jay and Silent Bob (Jason Mewes with the sharpest teeth whitening in film history and Kevin Smith returning to bask in their glow), and a slew of Smith’s cohorts from decades past to complete Randal’s meta-masterpiece: a film that strikingly resembles 1994’s Clerks.

Kevin Smith has had quite the eclectic career, stacked with highs and lows. One thing that has never changed is his innate ability to keep his audience constantly rooting for him. As a filmmaker, Smith has shown flashes of true greatness, which far too often lead to snaking back into the dick-and-weed jokes that are too easily relied on. As an entertainer, there is no one more relatable. Smith speaks to his legions of film and podcast fans like a genuine human being, one of compassion and empathy. A rarity in today’s Hollywood. The simple fact that he proudly showcases his own family while countless actors continue to return for whatever insane low-budget endeavor Smith whips up, decades after they first worked with him, further endears Smith to the filmmaking community and his fandom. Even when Smith is indulging his worst urges, he is seemingly impossible to root against.

Declaratively, Clerks III is the best film Kevin Smith has made in years. Hands down, it has been decided. Since Red State (God, make another one of these, Kevin!), Smith’s reel has not been particularly rewarding. But Clerks is special, to Smith and the audience alike. You can see it in Smith’s writing, his loving throwbacks to his own characters and his unapologetic approach to a joke he’s done a thousand times (they’re not even supposed to be here today, don’t cha know). Is this a masterpiece of the art form? Of course not. There are still obvious budgetary restrictions, a handful of wild swings that don’t land, and a few too many of those aforementioned dick-and-weed jokes Smith tends to overdo these days. But that does not mean this is not a damn good film, because it absolutely is.

More importantly, Smith is writing to what has affected him the most in the latter stages of his career: his own heart attack. Both Dante and Randal glimmer with tinges of Smith’s personal history, while O’Halloran and Anderson yet again embrace the opportunity to deliver Smith’s words and life experiences as briskly and pointed as they are on the page. While Randal struggles with his almost death, Dante struggles with losing his family, a concept that also seems directly related to Smith’s self-reflection on almost leaving his own far too early. Their timeless friendship has burrowed into a visual representation of Smith’s id, and every scene with Randal and Dante bleeds into what amounts to Kevin Smith’s most personal work in years.

Even as Randal and Dante barb endlessly back-and-forth – only taking time out to humiliate Elias here and there – while they film versions of their own lives (essentially recreating snippets from Clerks I & II, peppered with a clever nod to the original ending), it never comes across as sheer nostalgia for easy laughs or giggles. Rather, this is a filmmaker showcasing his love and appreciation for the very film that gave him everything he cherishes in life.

With love thrown to View Askew’s past everywhere, and a resounding climax that punches us in the gut with the fact that the plot never really mattered, the sheer humanity on display here is appreciated. Smith has been experimenting with a surplus of emotion for several years, but Clerks III really ratchets it up by cracking that 4th wall and letting the rest of us see the beaming heart that Kevin Smith has decided to shine upon the world, forever proving that this series would never have been great if it wasn’t for the f**king filmmaker.