Before he left his home state of New Jersey for Vancouver Film School in 1992, Kevin Smith borrowed a video camera and taped a message for his parents, essentially telling them that this was it: all of their lives would be changing forever, because he was going to become a famous filmmaker.
"Yeah, it's so strange because, essentially, it's a vlog," Smith says now, pondering the footage that serves as the powerful opening scene of Canadian filmmaker Malcolm Ingram's loving new documentary, Clerk (out February 1), which tells Smith's life story.
"And it's crazy because my sister, for years, made fun of me for it. She's like, 'That tape is so weird, because you literally predicted your future; everything you talk about kind of comes to pass. How did you know?' I was like, 'I didn't know!' I was just a knuckle-headed 22-year-old kid who wanted to get through saying goodbye to his parents without crying, which I would have if I was standing right in front of them."
He continues, "And as my mom says in the documentary ... when [my dad] watched the tape, my dad was like, 'Well, at least he thinks he's going to be famous. So that's something.'"
Featuring virtually everyone you can think of from Smith's vast View Askew universe of films and projects — from close friends, family and collaborators to loyal megastars like Ben Affleck and Matt Damon — Clerk is a love-fest that celebrates the audacity of Smith's imagination, which has mixed crass humour with the human spirit in a way that's resonated beyond his wildest dreams.
For those who have followed Smith's work as a director, writer, podcaster, comic book store co-owner, and weed enthusiast, it's known that he often carries his heart on his sleeve, as a person, and in his expression. But, beyond the laughter and joy, Ingram's film contains levels of emotion that will surprise devotees and newcomers.
In reflecting upon his successes and failures, his friendship with his Jay and Silent Bob partner Jason Mewes, and his near-death from a massive heart attack in 2018, Smith cannot help but start crying before the cameras, and it happens a lot.
"Appreciation and gratitude will bring it out of me," Smith explains. "I'm 51 and I feel like I've done enough where, if I want to cry, if I want to let my emotions run wild and be seen crying, I've earned it. And I've leaned into that over the course of the last five years particularly and, to me, it's been insanely gratifying, because I watched the trickle-down effect on social media where people are just like, 'I feel the same way and I would never admit it,' and then they put up pictures of themselves crying and stuff like that. So, I'm not surprised that that wound up in the movie."
Among the many things Smith is grateful for is Canada, where he briefly lived in his early 20s. Though he ultimately bailed on completing his Vancouver Film School studies, he maintains a love for the city, pledging to help its Rio Theatre movie house maintain operations some years ago; he continues to hold screenings at the Rio wherever possible. Clerk also features a sequence about Smith and his gang travelling to Wayne Gretzky's hometown of Brantford, ON, to take part in the Walter Gretzky Street Hockey Tournament, an annual charity event.
"There was a letter in the [Vancouver alt-weekly] Georgia Straight where somebody was like, 'Why won't people acknowledge the fact that Clerks is a Canadian film?'" Smith recalls. "Somebody thought it was a Canadian film because of all the hockey and stuff like that. And I was so proud of that because I'm like, 'Oh my God, I was mistaken for a Canadian.' But I think why Canadians dug my stuff like Clerks was because there's something about New Jersey that is very similar to Canada."
He explains, "We are both situated next to very loud, very obnoxious neighbours that steal all the glory and the attention. I grew up in the shadow of New York, which is everything — it sets the time, it's where the television comes from. And then New Jersey is the butt of nuclear waste jokes across the river, right? Canada grows up in the shadow of America, which is like everything and huge and in your face. I'm sure it's opening up a newspaper and being like, 'What is America up to today?'"
Smith continues, "So, it's like going home. Like, most cats assume that I am Canadian up there. There are a lot of people who are like, 'Oh my God, so what province are you from?' And I'm like, 'I'm from the province of New Jersey.'"
When he thinks on it, Smith's first connection to Canada stemmed from a family trip to Niagara Falls when he was a child. He says he still has crayons that say "Niagara Falls" on them, which his parents bought him on that visit. There's something about Clerk that brings out not just his boyish, juvenile sense of fun, but also the wide-eyed, deferential, polite kid that made that video for his parents — not just to thank them but also to assure them, I got this.
"There are times where I hate young Kevin Smith because he's so insouciant," Smith says, pondering how this doc has led to self-reflection. "But I also absolutely love that that Kevin Smith is the kid that got me here, and I don't know where he found that confidence because I lived his life and it wasn't like, 'Wow, man, I've been running around with a Super 8 camera since I was eight years old.'"
He adds, "I had just seen Richard Linklater's Slacker and, five, six months after that, I'm like, 'Oh yeah, I'm going to make a film now as well. This just makes sense to me.' So, I don't know, even when I watch it now, I admire his moxie so much. And I identify with what my dad said about him; he was like, 'Well, at least he thinks it's going to work out.'"
"Yeah, it's so strange because, essentially, it's a vlog," Smith says now, pondering the footage that serves as the powerful opening scene of Canadian filmmaker Malcolm Ingram's loving new documentary, Clerk (out February 1), which tells Smith's life story.
"And it's crazy because my sister, for years, made fun of me for it. She's like, 'That tape is so weird, because you literally predicted your future; everything you talk about kind of comes to pass. How did you know?' I was like, 'I didn't know!' I was just a knuckle-headed 22-year-old kid who wanted to get through saying goodbye to his parents without crying, which I would have if I was standing right in front of them."
He continues, "And as my mom says in the documentary ... when [my dad] watched the tape, my dad was like, 'Well, at least he thinks he's going to be famous. So that's something.'"
Featuring virtually everyone you can think of from Smith's vast View Askew universe of films and projects — from close friends, family and collaborators to loyal megastars like Ben Affleck and Matt Damon — Clerk is a love-fest that celebrates the audacity of Smith's imagination, which has mixed crass humour with the human spirit in a way that's resonated beyond his wildest dreams.
For those who have followed Smith's work as a director, writer, podcaster, comic book store co-owner, and weed enthusiast, it's known that he often carries his heart on his sleeve, as a person, and in his expression. But, beyond the laughter and joy, Ingram's film contains levels of emotion that will surprise devotees and newcomers.
In reflecting upon his successes and failures, his friendship with his Jay and Silent Bob partner Jason Mewes, and his near-death from a massive heart attack in 2018, Smith cannot help but start crying before the cameras, and it happens a lot.
"Appreciation and gratitude will bring it out of me," Smith explains. "I'm 51 and I feel like I've done enough where, if I want to cry, if I want to let my emotions run wild and be seen crying, I've earned it. And I've leaned into that over the course of the last five years particularly and, to me, it's been insanely gratifying, because I watched the trickle-down effect on social media where people are just like, 'I feel the same way and I would never admit it,' and then they put up pictures of themselves crying and stuff like that. So, I'm not surprised that that wound up in the movie."
Among the many things Smith is grateful for is Canada, where he briefly lived in his early 20s. Though he ultimately bailed on completing his Vancouver Film School studies, he maintains a love for the city, pledging to help its Rio Theatre movie house maintain operations some years ago; he continues to hold screenings at the Rio wherever possible. Clerk also features a sequence about Smith and his gang travelling to Wayne Gretzky's hometown of Brantford, ON, to take part in the Walter Gretzky Street Hockey Tournament, an annual charity event.
"There was a letter in the [Vancouver alt-weekly] Georgia Straight where somebody was like, 'Why won't people acknowledge the fact that Clerks is a Canadian film?'" Smith recalls. "Somebody thought it was a Canadian film because of all the hockey and stuff like that. And I was so proud of that because I'm like, 'Oh my God, I was mistaken for a Canadian.' But I think why Canadians dug my stuff like Clerks was because there's something about New Jersey that is very similar to Canada."
He explains, "We are both situated next to very loud, very obnoxious neighbours that steal all the glory and the attention. I grew up in the shadow of New York, which is everything — it sets the time, it's where the television comes from. And then New Jersey is the butt of nuclear waste jokes across the river, right? Canada grows up in the shadow of America, which is like everything and huge and in your face. I'm sure it's opening up a newspaper and being like, 'What is America up to today?'"
Smith continues, "So, it's like going home. Like, most cats assume that I am Canadian up there. There are a lot of people who are like, 'Oh my God, so what province are you from?' And I'm like, 'I'm from the province of New Jersey.'"
When he thinks on it, Smith's first connection to Canada stemmed from a family trip to Niagara Falls when he was a child. He says he still has crayons that say "Niagara Falls" on them, which his parents bought him on that visit. There's something about Clerk that brings out not just his boyish, juvenile sense of fun, but also the wide-eyed, deferential, polite kid that made that video for his parents — not just to thank them but also to assure them, I got this.
"There are times where I hate young Kevin Smith because he's so insouciant," Smith says, pondering how this doc has led to self-reflection. "But I also absolutely love that that Kevin Smith is the kid that got me here, and I don't know where he found that confidence because I lived his life and it wasn't like, 'Wow, man, I've been running around with a Super 8 camera since I was eight years old.'"
He adds, "I had just seen Richard Linklater's Slacker and, five, six months after that, I'm like, 'Oh yeah, I'm going to make a film now as well. This just makes sense to me.' So, I don't know, even when I watch it now, I admire his moxie so much. And I identify with what my dad said about him; he was like, 'Well, at least he thinks it's going to work out.'"
