“This job would be great if it wasn’t for the fucking customers.”
– Randal Graves, having to work at RST Video.
When we think of the word “hero” in cinema, what comes to mind? Sigourney Weaver as Lt. Ripley in Alien, Sylvester Stallone as John Rambo, Humphrey Bogart as Rick in Casablanca, Viola Davis as General Nanisca in The Woman King — all of these are great choices. But there are two heroes in cinema that ultimately rise to the occasion; pure in their intentions, unbothered by the ethical choices they are forced to confront, brave and true in the face of their interminable reality.
Who are these scions of virtue and selflessness? Well, the time for mincing words is over. It is obviously Jay and Silent Bob. Surviving as bedrock cultural progenitors of the 90s, this pair of weed-dealing mayhem makers have, over the years, taken on consumerism (Mallrats), religion (Dogma), and even Hollywood (Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back). Nevertheless, all origin stories must have a beginning and theirs starts outside the Quick Stop in Kevin Smith’s low-budget comedy masterpiece Clerks.
As a cinematic time capsule, Clerks represents everything we loved about independent filmmaking in the 90s, fitting perfectly within the pantheon of other low budget indie classics like Slacker, El Mariachi, The Blair Witch Project, Reservoir Dogs, and Pi. Financed by credit cards, loans, and his life savings, Kevin Smith shot his black-and-white opus for a mere $27,575 while grossing over $3 million at the box office — proving once and for all that the slacker ethos of the 90s could actually be quite lucrative given the right opportunity.
While Jay and Silent Bob were the breakout characters of Clerks and launched Kevin Smith’s career, the film primarily follows a day in the life of convenience and video store clerks Dante and Randal in Leonardo, New Jersey. Both men spend their shifts slinging existential banter and observing their lives in the context of the world around them, all while simultaneously insulting a parade of annoying customers. This is the only consistent plot point in Clerks — saying the quiet part out loud. Dante and Randal do for us, what we would never really do for ourselves. This is the brilliance of Clerks, making the mundane bearable.
This film also serves as a snapshot of the 90s slacker genre, a forgotten slice of American cinema defined by dialogue driven characters that celebrated the underachiever lifestyle while flaunting the American dream of their boomer parents. Clerks masquerades as a raunchy comedy, but it also captures the vibe of the grunge generation disillusioned by corporate culture, conformity, and societal expectations. By giving voice to the unspoken frustrations of 90s youth, Clerks continues to offer a candid reflection of our general day-to-day malaise — even if that malaise is a little less analog and a little more digital in 2024.
And, in the end, sometimes being a hero is about nothing more than just showing up (and selling a little weed in front of the Quick Stop in the process).
Join RVA Mag on June 4th for a one night only screening of Clerks. Get stoned, drink multiple beers, and bring 385 of your friends to help us preserve one of the last remaining Grand Cinema Palaces in the US. All ticket proceeds are going to support the ongoing preservation of the Byrd Theatre. Buy your tickets HERE!
“I’m not even supposed to be here today!” But you definitely should be. See you there.
