Clerks

Clerks is a graduate of the Sundance Film Festival, along with such other independent illuminaries as "Reservoir Dogs", "Sex, Lies and Videotape" and "Spanking the Monkey". Tarantino's baby came in at a cool $1.5 million, the other two were lower, probably in the hundreds of thousands if that. But Clerks? Oh, we're talking low, low budget here, people. Kevin Smith extended his credit cards to the limits to get the film stock and camera lensed it on 16mm, working during the day and filming at night. That's why the blinds are stuck in the movie, because its pitch black behind them, this is independent film making at its most independent, guerrilla film making, whine free, full of imagination, a movie that makes its budget a part of its style and you won't see a funnier movie this year.

Because all that Dante and his friend over at the Video store across the road do is talk, talk, talk. Oh do they talk. Right through the movie. And about things you almost never hear coming from that big old silver screen. Who exactly built the Death Star in "Return of the Jedi"? Ask Dante's mate, whose name I cannot for the life of me remember (a crime indeed) he has ideas. Blow jobs? We got them in here, along with a rough estimation of how many make up the wild thing itself. Oh, there's a woman who manually masturbates farm animals for artificial insemination who pops in and out. They spit water in customer's eyes for the sake of it. They hate you. You are the customer. They are the clerk. They want to play hockey and have sex, not give you cigarettes and watch you decide which egg is best for the omelette. Are you open? NO! they scream back. Necrophilia is thrown in from your blind side. Oh, this is such a movie.

Waterworld, that overblown, rotting, beached whale of a movie, came in at an even $150 million. Good God, was that bad. Kevin Smith made this for $23,000. Guess which comes out on top? See it and laugh till you hurt. I did.

Laura Jesson