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| Images courtesy of Viewaskew |
For all his weaknesses as a director, Kevin Smith is undeniably one of the pivotal filmmakers of the 1990s. Along with Quentin Tarantino, he remains one of the finest dialogue writers in the industry, even though the departure of integral creative partners has undoubtedly affected their recent work. In the case of Tarantino it was the death of Sally Menke, the only editor capable of reigning in his irritating penchant for overwrought runtimes. For Kevin Smith, it was the parting of ways with his friend Scott Mosier, who produced every film in Smith's filmography through Zack and Miri Make a Porno in 2008. Although Smith did indeed make some quality films after that, like Tusk and Red State, the absence of Mosier as his guiding star is undeniable. When you look at the quality loss in Smith's recent dives back into the well, Jay and Silent Bob Reboot and Clerks III, it's clear that Mosier was more than a producer behind the scenes -- he was the cool head in the room, and he certainly didn't cry as much.
With that being said, the View Askewniverse that Mosier and Smith created remains their crowning achievement as filmmakers. Beginning with Clerks in 1994, the black and white low budget film that defined the angst of a generation emerging into adulthood, and continued with Mallrats the following year. Clerks is definitely the superior film, but Mallrats has a special place in the hearts of many fans, and has amassed a gigantic cult following. Almost 30 years after its release, it has become a nostalgic time capsule for a lost part of our culture: A time when teenagers and grown up Toys R Us kids would socialize and roam the halls of consumerism with no intention of consuming anything more than a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. Imagine that: People used to hang out in person at the mall, not staring at a phone and reading text bubbles on our couches. Mallrats embraces the fact that the single greatest form of human recreation is simple face-to-face conversation.
The story is pretty standard fare for a 90s romantic comedy: Two best friends named TS (Jeremy London) and Brodie (Jason Lee) both get dumped by their girlfriends Brandi (Claire Forlani) and Rene (Shannen Doherty) on the same day. So in a mirthful attempt to "ease their simultaneous double loss," Brodie suggests they spend the day the mall, where they immediately run into Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (writer-director Kevin Smith). They enlist the help of the infamous stoners to trash the game show ran by Brandi's father (the glorious Michael Rooker), who engineered his own daughter's breakup with the hopes of auctioning her off on a dating show to further his own ambitions.
Standing in the way of Jay and Silent Bob's blueprints for Mythbusters-style destruction is an imposing security guard named La Fours (Sven Thorson), as well as little things like physics and dressing room walls. Also in attendance at the Eden Prairie Mall are Brandi's friend Gwen (Joey Lauren Adams); an aspiring Masters and Johnson wunderkind (Renee Humphreys); a portly Ethan Suplee desperately trying to see the sailboat in a Magic Eye picture, and an abrasively dickish Ben Affleck as a store manager eager to penetrate Brodie's ex-girlfriend in "the most notorious of body cavities." Plus a special appearance by the most iconic comic book creator of all time. I would call it a cameo, but this is a full-fledged performance from Stan Lee, showing that he had the chops for more than just brief moments with no dialogue in MCU films.
Commissioned by Gramercy Pictures for a Universal Studios release, Mallrats was co-produced by James Jacks, who also produced the Brendan Fraser-headlined Mummy series. His vision for the movie was a "smart Porky's" with raunchy dialogue and boobs, which Bob Clark's immortal classic had plenty of both. While hesitant on the latter, Smith more than succeeded on the former. Mallrats has some of the most quotable dialogue of any film made during this era, or any era. Having not watched it in well over a decade prior to this new gorgeously rendered Arrow Video UHD release, I was surprised at just how much of the film I was able to mouth the dialogue along with the characters (yeah, I used to watch this VHS tape to death). It's also shocking just how impeccable this restoration of Mallrats looks. Smith has never been known for his visual style, but this restoration really draws attention to his framing, especially in long one-take tracking shots of rapid fire dialogue.
There's one moment in the much slower and ultimately inferior Extended Cut (also available in this two-disc set), where I was legit impressed with Smith's ability to coach his actors through a very long Touch of Evil-style opening shot. Smith was obviously feeling a need to prove himself as a director (which he inevitably did with Chasing Amy) and, while this opening was chopped from the film, it does show that Smith had more promise with visual direction than he has ever given himself credit for. Unfortunately this scene is long and painfully unfunny, and was the genesis of a subplot with numerous callbacks in this two-hour long Extended Cut. Bringing back these elements is like setting several alarms on your phone: Your first instinct is to sleep, but you get a jolt of energy every now and then. It's nice that they chose to include this longer cut, and while it is fascinating to analyze and compare it to the vastly superior theatrical cut, it's a viewing experience you'll only need once. If for no other reason than a howlingly funny line delivery early in the film from Jason Lee.
In the end, what really makes Mallrats an enduring cultural time capsule is the dialogue and the chemistry of a pitch-perfect cast, aided in no small part by a stupendous soundtrack and original music by Blues Brothers composer Ira Newborn. Michael Rooker (as always) steals every scene that he's in. Seeing Jason Lee effortlessly delivering the goods in his first role, it's no surprise at all that he eventually became a household name. The entire cast is so universally good, it's disappointing that Smith didn't reunite with some of these actors in films down the line.
Mallrats wasn't the giant hit that James Jacks or Universal Pictures were hoping for, but true success isn't measured in box office dollars -- it's measured in longevity. Kevin Smith was never the kind of filmmaker who wins Oscars or tops the leaderboard of moneymakers, but he is a writer for the generations because he has a love for people and how they interact. It's a love that takes what could've been a pretty standard comedy, definitely a product of its time, and somehow makes it timeless. I'm glad Arrow regifted this film to us so that future generations can watch it, and maybe have their own debates over superhero sex organs in the food court. Or, if it's the cookie stand, you have to ask if you're even in the food court at all.
- Blake O. Kleiner