Clerks Blu-ray offers solid video and decent audio in this overall recommended Blu-ray release
It's one wild day in the life of a pair of overworked counter jockeys whose razor-sharp wit and
on-the-job antics give a whole new meaning to customer service! Even while braving a nonstop
parade of unpredictable shoppers, the clerks manage to play hockey on the roof, visit a funeral
home, and straighten out their offbeat love lives. The boss is nowhere in sight, so you can bet
anything can --and WILL-- happen when these guys are left to run the store!
Once upon a time, in an ancient era far removed from our own, the primitive peoples of middle America were forced to discover obscure movies by word of mouth alone. Shocking, I know. They didn't have internet forums, iPod Touches, or on-the-go access to the online universe. They had to troll videostores savvy enough to stock hard-to-find Indie releases; they had to set their VCRs to record late-night episodes of Siskel & Ebert; they had to scour newspapers and magazines to learn about films that weren't appearing at their local malls' three-screen theaters; they had to lay down two dollars of their hard-earned cash to see if a basement-born, self-financed, black and white Sundance darling like Clerks was worthy of their coveted recommendation. As it turns out, it was. Clerks spread like wildfire, earning buzz and critical acclaim, mounting a small but passionate army of fans, and granting its writer and director, Kevin Smith, instant access to the hallowed halls of Hollywood.
"I'm stuck in this pit, working for less than slave wages. Working on my day off..."
Quick Stop convenience store clerk Dante Hicks (Brian O'Halloran) and neighboring videostore clerk Randal Graves (Jeff Anderson) are stuck in dead-end jobs, dealing with ungrateful customers in the uneventful township of Leonardo, New Jersey. Forced to cover shifts on their days off, they have to contend with an assortment of oddball consumers, keep local drug dealers Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Kevin Smith) in check, and field every distraction that comes their way. In the course of a single shift -- one in which Dante continually and emphatically declares, "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" -- the boys fend off a pushy Chewlies gum representative (Scott Schiaffo), inadvertently sell cigarettes to a minor, organize a hockey game on the Quick Stop roof, attend a funeral, and confront disgruntled customer after disgruntled customer. But while Dante tries to lay low, Randal is all too willing to upset and offend anyone who crosses him. As the day progresses, Dante has to choose between two young women (Marilyn Ghigliotti and Lisa Spoonhauer), Randal has to avoid lawsuits and jailtime, and the static duo have to come to terms with their shattered dreams and limited futures.
Were it released today, some fifteen years after its original 1994 debut, I doubt Clerks would receive the same open-armed media reception or inspire the same warm-n-fuzzies among modern moviegoers. While Smith's writing remains undeniably strong and, in many cases, downright hilarious, the film's oft-times stilted performances and backyard production values would most likely be lost in the 21st century's sea of all-too-eager direct-to-video releases. It doesn't boast Smith's finest script, isn't nearly as edgy or original as it once was, and, in this day and age, feels like something a film school student would post online. Chalk it up to my familiarity with Smith's canon or the countless times I've watched his now-classic comedy over the years, but his black and white monolith has lost some of its charm over the years. That being said, nostalgia and laughter are a tasty mix, and Clerks provides View Askew regulars with a steady stream of both. Whether viewing its various setups and payoffs for the thirtieth time or revisiting it for the first time in years, the film remains one of the most memorable, quotable, and surprising Indie comedies to emerge from the primordial muck of the '90s. Smith's penchant for rat-a-tat-tat dialogue and wry philosophical banter is on full display, and O'Halloran and Anderson truly invest their all in every scene. While neither actor is as seasoned or convincing as they are in Clerks II -- a sequel I would argue is superior to its predecessor in every way -- they chew on their chattiest conversations with commitment and conviction.
There's also something indescribably endearing about the production. Between all the f-bombs, indulgent monologues, and crass (some would say contrived) chitchat, Smith imbues the film with such heart that it's next to impossible to label Clerks a low-budget gimmick or an impersonal endeavor. The director sinks his very soul into what would otherwise be a superficial collection of foul-mouthed beats and soured sketches. Calling upon his own experiences, begging and borrowing from everyone he knew, and populating his scenes with friends and relatives -- not to mention financing the entire film on credit cards and comicbook sales -- Smith's blood, sweat, and guts are fused into every shot; his personal hangups and failures dot what's revealed to be an extremely vulnerable screenplay; his fears and anxieties permeate every frame. It's this symbiosis of filmmaker and film that allowed Clerks to become what it was. The same symbiosis that allows it to remain the classic Indie comedy it is today. I can't predict how a newcomer will respond. I've watched Dante and Randal debate the merits of Empire and Jedi so many times that their argument is permanently etched into my brain. Any attempt to put myself in a View Askew rookie's shoes would prove to be futile. What I do know is that Clerks has staying power. It isn't timeless by any means, but it is a fantastically funny, astonishingly perverse '90s comedy worth two hours of any cinephile's life.
Who better than to address the inherent problem with a Clerks Blu-ray release than Kevin Smith? After calling it a "vulgar cash grab" in one of the disc's lone exclusives, Smith offers this gem: "When I was told they were doing a Clerks Blu-ray, of course, like most of you, I was like, why? Why would you do that? It spits in the face of the medium. The medium is all about the best presentation, amazing color, superior sound. Clerks is the antithesis of that. If Blu-ray is Superman, Clerks is its Lex Luthor. And not the new-school Lex Luthor; the old-school, like Superboy balded him... and he's like I hate you for life motherf@#%er! That's what that is. So the idea of putting Clerks on Blu-ray, to me, it seemed repugnant, but it was gonna happen anyway cause that's business. They gotta keep ringing pennies out of this little black and white movie."
But despite Smith's brazen observation, Clerks does look better in high definition. Gone are the DVD's compression artifacts, smeared details, and fugly digital anomalies. Yes, softness and pudgy textures still rule the day; yes, an aggressive grain field and frequent print damage are the sharpest elements Disney's 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer have to offer; and yes, the actual upgrade is minimal at best, but the Blu-ray edition presents a version of Clerks that looks as good as it possibly could. Black levels are deep, gradients are smooth, mid-range grays are faithfully preserved, and whites are crisp and clean. Noise continually invades the proceedings and contrast is all over the place, but any shortcomings should be attributed to Smith and the flick's minuscule budget, not Disney's technical transfer. Seeing as it was originally shot using a 16mm black and white camera, any further restoration would run the risk of undermining Smith's intended visual tone; any further cleanup would rob the film of some of its low-rent Indie charm. Ultimately, let the buyer beware. Clerks's high definition debut, technically sound as it is, reaps few Blu benefits. Newcomers may balk, Michael Bay 'splosion jockeys may moan, but reasonable View Askew purists will get exactly what they expect.
The same logic should be applied when evaluating Disney's DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track; a lossless overkill if there ever was one. Dialogue is problematic throughout, normalization is a joke, and clarity is inconsistent. However, anything else would take away from the film's voyeuristic security-cam aesthetic. To the track's credit, Smith's endless diatribes and rants are suitably intelligible, LFE output is commendable (albeit a tad bloated), and rear speaker activity is surprisingly involving (especially when it comes to the soundtrack's rock, punk, and metal songs). The soundfield is relatively immersive -- so long as you're prepared for the quaint, homegrown soundfield you're immersing yourself into -- and directionality, while hemmed in, is decent. My biggest complaint is that I had to drastically lower my volume to avoid center channel distortion. Granted, the problem is clearly a product of the original source, but some pre-release tweaking could have remedied such a bothersome point of contention. In the end, fans will be pleased, but everyone else will be left shrugging their shoulders.
I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking Clerks is celebrating its tenth anniversary instead of its fifteenth. Nearly every documentary and featurette on the disc touts the film's age... circa 2004. Still, I'm exceedingly pleased to find every significant previously released special feature has been ported to this new Blu-ray release, even Smith and company's dated standard definition Picture-in-Picture commentary. Sure, it would have been nice had all of the content been presented in high definition, or to uncover a proper PiP track alongside several other shiny-new commentaries, but fans will be satisfied with the hefty collection of supplements. Completists will even be able to safely offload their old DVDs without fear of losing anything in the process. Not too shabby.
Theatrical Version and First Cut: Both the 92-minute theatrical cut and 104-minute "First Cut" are included on the disc, giving View Askew disciples a taste of what was and what could have been. For anyone who isn't already in the know, the First Cut is drastically different from the version that made its way to theaters, making a comparison of the two an essential cinematic pilgrimage for anyone who calls himself a fan.
Theatrical Cut Audio Commentary: Recorded from the set of Mallrats, this classic laserdisc commentary finds writer/director Kevin Smith, actor/amateur animator Walt Flanagan, editor/producer Scott Mosier, lead actor Brian O'Halloran, drunken sidekick Jason Mewes, actor/cameraman/grip Vincent Pereira, and Film Threat's Malcolm Ingram plowing through Clerks. It's a surprisingly low-key commentary -- probably because Mewes is passed out on the floor and Smith was still in his Hollywood infancy -- but an informative one. That's not to say the track isn't entertaining. Quite the contrary. The group discusses the film's script, music, editing, shoot, and reception, as well as Smith's writing and filmmaking style. While Smith (rightfully) dominates the conversation, his fellow commentators are given plenty of opportunities to interject their own thoughts and observations.
Theatrical Cut Enhanced Trivia Track: While a standard trivia track for all intents and purposes, this feature offers factoids from a variety of categories, includes on-screen counters that track various "Clerks Quirks" (an F-bomb counter is the most pervasive), provides definitions for obscure words and chapter titles, points out connections to other View Askew films, and even manages to earn a few fleeting laughs.
First Cut Picture-in-Picture Commentary (SD, 104 minutes): Lifted directly from the 2004 DVD, this Picture-in-Picture commentary is presented entirely in standard definition. Yep, even the film. Honestly, it didn't bother me that much, but Disney really should have assembled a proper BD-Jave PiP track instead of porting a separate, low-quality transfer to the disc. Thankfully, the commentary itself is a blast. Smith, O'Halloran, Anderson, Mosier, and Mewes are absolutely hilarious. Sure, they drift off topic far too often, but their chat is never short on infectious stories, amusing asides, and jokes made at each others' expenses. As an added bonus, viewers can watch their chat in a PiP window or expand the group recording session to fill the screen.
First Cut Director's Intro (SD, 9 minutes): More a conversation between Smith and Mosier than a traditional introduction, this candid opener is worth watching. While the pair do little more than chuckle their way through a series of personal anecdotes, diehards will eat it up.
The Making of Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back (SD, 91 minutes): Why did Disney drop an exclusive Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back documentary on the Blu-ray edition of Clerks? Because, as Smith explains in a brief introduction, he begged the studio to let him put something new on the disc; something that hadn't been released elsewhere; something that would reward those purchasing Clerks yet again. And since he had already exhausted Clerks' supplemental reservoir, this was the next best thing. Good enough for me. Made by Malcolm Ingram and Smith's wife, Jennifer Schwalbach, the documentary is a breezy, funny, fly-on-the-wall glimpse into the making of Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back. Split into fifteen chapters, the film explores the characters, story, simian shenanigans, stunts, cameos, set design, and other aspects of the production. It's both entertaining and revealing. What more could you ask for? Aside from another Clerks retrospective...
Snowball Effect (SD, 91 minutes): Within minutes, this initially promotional venture has completely transformed into a thoroughly satisfying behind-the-scenes documentary; one that digs into the early career of Kevin Smith, the genesis of Clerks, his self-financed production, his hatred of improv, the cast he assembled for his film, the personal experiences Smith drew on when writing his script, and much, much more. If you don't watch any other special feature on the disc, be sure to take in this exceptional, extremely candid doc.
Snowball Effect Outtakes (SD, 40 minutes): Thirteen segments that, for whatever reason, didn't make it into the final cut of "Snowball Effect." It's a shame too... most of them are really good.
10th Anniversary Q&A (SD, 42 minutes): A solid 10th Anniversary retrospective with the cast and crew of Clerks. While anyone who's seen Smith's live Q&As will know what to expect from the questions and the answers, it's nevertheless a fine addition to the package.
Clerks Lost Scene - Animated Short (HD, 10 minutes): Produced for Clerks' 10th anniversary DVD, this animated sequence involves a funeral scene Smith wrote in his original script but never shot. A clever option is also available that inserts the animated short, via seamless branching, into the theatrical cut of the film (at the 53:02 mark). The only downside? The scene is presented in color rather than black and white.
The Flying Car (SD, 8 minutes): A $14,000 short film made for The Tonight Show with Jay Leno in 2001 that features a lengthy conversation between Clerks mainstays, Dante and Randall. Unfortunately, without Smith's patented profane poetry -- "screw" and "sack" are as dirty as it gets -- this PG-rated blip on the director's pre-Clerks II radar is decidedly decent but fairly forgettable.
Clerks Restoration (SD, 13 minutes): Join Smith, Mosier, and cinematographer David Klein for three brief overviews of the process behind the film's restoration for the 10th Anniversary DVD.
Original Auditions (SD, 15 minutes): Painful audition tapes from Brian O'Halloran, Jeff Anderson, Marilyn Ghigliotti, and Ernest O'Donnell.
Mae Day: The Crumbling of a Documentary (SD, 12 minutes): Behold! The very first View Askew production, made by Smith and Mosier while attending film school.
MTV Spots with Jay & Silent Bob (SD, 18 minutes): Eight chatty television spots are available with an introduction from Smith and Mosier.
Music Video (SD, 6 minutes): Soul Asylum's "Can't Even Tell."
The 15th Anniversary Blu-ray edition of Clerks offers little more than a minor upgrade from the 2004 10th Anniversary Edition DVD. Its video transfer and DTS-HD Master Audio track improve upon their previously released counterparts, but only by a moderate margin. Likewise, its massive supplemental package is extensive, but lacks new material (aside from a feature-length Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back documentary). Suffice to say, I wouldn't blame anyone for hanging onto their Clerks X DVD release and waiting for the Blu-ray edition to go on sale.
When George Lucas announced that he would be directing three new Star
Wars films, fans young and old built a level of anticipation not seen since the
original trilogy first graced theater screens - at least until they met Jar Jar. So
when Paramount announced ...
Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment has announced the technical specs and special features for the upcoming Blu-ray release of 'Clerks', which is scheduled to hit store shelves on November 17th, day-and-date with the Blu-ray release of 'Chasing Amy'. Video will ...
Two early Kevin Smith movies have now a release date on Blu-ray. As we reported a month ago, Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment is releasing 'Clerks' and 'Chasing Amy' on BD on November 17, according to information from retailers. A Kevin Smith Box Set, including ...
