Across The View Askewniverse:
Jay And Silent Bob Reboot
There’s little point in denying that “Jay And Silent Bob Reboot” is Smith’s most self-referential work to date. If “Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back” was Smith’s first greatest hits album, this is the remastered re-release with all the old hits and a few tracks from the more recent releases, wrapped up in deliberately nostalgic packaging. What’s perhaps more surprising is that it’s also Smith’s most reflective work which, given how rooted in autobiographical detail the View Askewniverse has been, is no mean feat. Superficially, this film is a satire of the current Hollywood obsession of rebooting and rehashing the same old characters and plotlines but – as with all Kevin Smith films – scratch away the gaudy, profane surface and there’s a wealth of depth to savour. Here, there’s a yearning for the unattainable real-life reboot – as Smith reflects on his life, both personal and professional, and seeks atonement for the mistakes and missteps of the past.
When Jay and Silent Bob find themselves in court on drug charges, they are saved by a hotshot Hollywood lawyer (Justin Long, cementing “Zack and Miri Make A Porno” into official View Askew continuity) who, in return, asks them to sign a simple waiver. Unfortunately, that waiver gives Saban movies the exclusive rights to not only the Bluntman And Chronic characters but also the names ‘Jay and Silent Bob’. After Brodie (Jason Lee) tells them it’s because there’s a big budget reboot in the works, the now nameless due resolve to set out for Hollywood and disrupt ‘Chronic-Con’ to prevent the movie from being made.
Once again, it’s Smith’s sentimental side which is in the driving seat – the metaphorical Jay of this movie – while the scatological humour takes on the more taciturn Silent Bob role (although there’s still plenty to guffaw and/ or groan at). It interesting, though, that in rebooting his dysfunctional duo, he never misses the opportunity to stick the boot into himself, his public persona and address all too willingly the criticism that have been levelled at him. While Smith’s irreverent head is still very much present, it’s his heart that’s firmly in charge of this film, sometimes feeling like an ode to his enduring friendship with Jason Mewes and how parenthood has changed them both. You have to wonder how much Smith’s brush with a near-fatal heart attack changed the tone and atmosphere of this film prior to production but I suspect the end result is emotionally richer for it.
It takes the same madcap caper/ road movie structure of the first movie albeit with a more haphazard feel to it as it tries to encompass a much bigger back catalogue of characters and references than the previous road movie had to carry and the celebrity cameos are a mixed bag at best although the roll call as ever is an impressive one.
In many ways this is Smith’s most self-indulgent movie – far more so than “Tusk” or even “Yoga Hosers” – because he’s literally using the script and the big screen to right some personal wrongs and the bizarre thing is, it works. In fact, not only does it work but it delivers some of the movie’s most poignant moments. Chief amongst these moments is a belated coda to “Chasing Amy” which features Holden McNeil (Ben Affleck) and Alyssa Jones (Joey Lauren Adams) and sees the former explaining how parenthood has enriched his life. It’s a quietly introspective, beautifully honest moment and while – from a pacing point of view – it stops the film dead just as its ramping up to its overblown finale, it’s a perfect reminder of just how well Smith can bring raw and authentic emotion on screen. Affleck’s performance is terrific in the moment too, adding a particular piquancy to the whole thing because you’re aware it also marked a real-life reconciliation between the troubled actor and Smith after a falling out more than ten years previously.
While Smith and Mewes effortlessly inhabit their previous characters, there’s no way of hiding from the fact that, as those great American poets Smash Mouth once said, the years keep coming and they don’t stop coming. And of course, with this pair, it’s not just the years, it’s the mileage too – and not just from the road movies. But the old chemistry is still there and they retain that rare ability to rescue a comic sequence from falling completely flat with a particular look from Smith or some stoner gibberish from Mewes at the apposite moment.
Being something of a contemporary of Smith’s (age-wise), I don’t begrudge him his reflective mood or self-indulgent film making. Watching and re-watching his movies back to back for this trip across the View Askewniverse has been both rewarding and revelatory, especially in re-evaluating him as both a filmmaker and the voice of a very specific generation. I don’t really share his stoner/ slacker upbringing and, of course, growing up in New Jersey must have been literally and experientially a world away from my growing up in Scotland and growing older further south in England but through all of his work there are universal themes and thoughts and emotional truths which resonated with me throughout my life on a very personal, primal level. Smith feels like one of my oldest friends even though I’ve never actually met him and may never get the chance to but maybe I don’t need to. His work speaks to me in a way I hadn’t anticipated when I set out on this cinematic road trip and while the critical consensus may remain snobbishly dismissive of his work, for me he remains one of the most interesting, unpredictable and – perhaps most importantly – authentic, honest and uncompromising writers and directors working today.
Thank you, Kevin Smith. And happy birthday.
