Clerks
★★★ 1/2
I’m so glad I revisited Clerks. I didn’t catch it when it originally dropped, but sometime in the early 2000s—probably during a late-night dorm binge—I was introduced to the View Askewniverse through Mallrats or Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. One of my roommates pulled me into that world, and eventually, I made my way back to Clerks. Kevin Smith’s black-and-white debut just stuck with me—it was scrappy, honest and felt like something I could’ve stumbled into making with my own friends.
Here’s the thing: Smith wasn’t reinventing cinema with camera tricks. What he did do was craft an unapologetically filthy, weirdly poetic dialogue style that felt like nothing else. It's crude, sure—but it's also clever, self-aware and full of heart. It’s the kind of movie where you blush, laugh and feel oddly seen, all at the same time.
What makes Clerks special—then and now—isn’t just the scrappy budget or single-location setting. It’s that it captured the voice of a generation that wasn’t supposed to have one. The slacker Gen Xers. The underachievers. The guys arguing about Star Wars ethics between customers at a dead-end job. (That Death Star debate? Pop culture milestone.)
Dante and Randall’s dynamic still hits because it’s less about what they’re saying and more about how they’re saying it. This wasn’t polished dialogue; it was raw, hilarious and weirdly profound. It made you believe that maybe you could make a movie with your friends and a camcorder, if you had something to say.
Watching it now, sure—it’s rough around the edges. The acting is what it is. The pacing lags. But it doesn’t matter. Because the impact is undeniable. This film didn’t just launch Kevin Smith’s career; it helped usher in an entire era of indie filmmaking. Without Clerks, there’s no Big Bang Theory, no podcasting empire, no generation of nerds boldly owning their obsessions.
It’s not the best movie I’ve ever seen. But it’s one of the most important of the ‘90s. It’s the DIY dream on screen—a cinematic mixtape made in a convenience store that somehow made space for a whole new kind of storytelling.
I’d love to watch this with someone who’s never seen it before, just to see what lands now. Is it too filthy? Too dated? Or does it still resonate in the age of streaming and sanitized comedy?
Either way—I’m not even supposed to be here today! and yet I’m really glad I was.
