by eabaker » Fri Feb 21, 2014 10:13 pm
Taken me awhile to write this, because it's been a busy week at work, and it might take me a few minutes to get it all down, so let's take ourselves back in time a few days...
This one may run a little long, because I have a lot of history with the movie, but, on Sunday, I did something I (surprising as this fact is, even to myself) hadn't done in over ten years... I watched Clerks, one of my favorite movies of all time, one of the movies that convinced me I could make movies myself (though, in proper Dante Hicks fashion, I am still held back by my own lack of initiative).
Why had it been so long? I mean, we're talking about one of the small handful of movies I've watched more times than any others. The only movies I can say for certain I've seen more times are the original Star Wars trilogy (not inappropriate), although Return of the Living Dead, Halloween and Planet of the Apes all rank right up there as well.
But, of course, some of those movies pre-date my life, and none of them were released later than 1985 - the year I turned 6. Clerks didn't come out until 1994, and I didn't see it until 1996 (sometime before my 17th birthday). Add in the fact that, as I said, I went over ten years without watching it prior to last weekend, and that means that I managed to watch it that huge number of times in a span of just about n8 years, and, honestly, the majority of those viewings were within about the first year and a half after I intitially saw it.
You see, Clerks is a movie that I used to binge watch. Seriously. Hard-core. For the first few weeks after I initially saw it, I estimate that I watched it, on average, 5 times every three days (about 1 2/3 times per day). I'd wake up and watch a bit of it as I ate breakfast and got ready for school, then I'd come home for lunch and watch some more, then I'd get home and watch it until my parents got home, and then, when they went to bed, I'd watch it until I was ready to go to sleep myself. Every time I got to the end, I'd rewind it and start again. This was almost constant. For weeks.
Eventually I slowed down. It became more like once every few days, maybe once a week, then once a month or so, and finally it just became a movie in my usual rotation in college, something I'd watch roughly as often as any of my other favorites. But I'd banked a LOT of viewings in those early weeks and months. I knew that movie inside out, and my best friends in high school were the same way; among me and my friends Scott and Chuck, we could perform the whole movie, word for word, off the tops of our heads.
So, college ended, and I ended up living with roommates who were fellow film school grads and movie fanatics. We all had massive DVD collections (and, at the time, still a halfway decent amount of stuff on VHS), and that meant we all had many, many things that the others had never seen (neither of them would even have any Godzilla movies in their collections if it weren't for my audience, and one of them ended up a big ol' Hedorah fanatic), so any time we were gonna watch a movie (which was probably about 15 times a week), it was a process of whittling down from dozens of possibilities to find one thing that everybody was interested in, and almost always something that at least one of us hadn't seen - we were a resource to each other, a means of discovering new avenues. And we were all pretty well versed in Kevin Smith's body of work, naturally, so what reason was there to ever even suggest watching Clerks? And when I was watching movies on my own, well, jeez, as I was now earning pretty good money, my movie collection was constantly growing; there were always new discs I hadn't watched yet, movies I either hadn't seen, or had only seen years earlier, or new obsessions that I could indulge. My first priority was just about anything besides watching a movie I knew so well I could quote whole scenes verbatim off the top of my head.
Then, of course, along came Jenn, the love of my life. And she's a movie fanatic, too. And it's been the same deal: she wants to show me things I've never seen, and I want to show her things she's never seen (including, as many of you know, working our way through Toho's kaiju history - at this point, the only three she hasn't seen are the three most recent ones, and we're gonna get through those before LPG comes out). And when we do watch something we're both already familiar with, it's generally something that is a huge favorite of both of ours (such as a Star Wars movie). Jenn likes Kevin Smith's early stuff alright, but Clerks was never anything especially special to her, so it just hasn't been something we've bothered to put in together. I only really watch movies without her on weekends when she has school, which is only 6 weekends per semester, which means that I basically only watch 3 or 4 movies a month without her, so that time is almost always dedicated to stuff I either haven't seen before, or haven't seen very many times.
(Random side note: in the years since I watched the movie last, I've had two sitings of cast members. I was waiting for a plane at Burbank Airport with producer/editor/various-part-player Scott Mosier one time, and let him know I recognized him and was a fan; and I saw Marilyn Ghigliotti [Veronica] working as a photoghrapher at an event a couple of years back, but didn't want to bother her while she was doing her job.)
But then, last Saturday night, Jenn brought up the fact that we hadn't watched our blu-ray of Dazed and Confused yet, and she was a little nervous, because she'd loved the movie so much when she was younger, and she was afraid that, revisiting it as an adult, it might not have the same impact on her. And I mentioned that I'd had the same concern about Clerks. My tastes have changed. I've changed.
The next day, while she was at school, I was getting ready to do the dishes, and decided to throw on the Clerks soundtrack while I did so. And, after listening to it, I had to watch the movie. HAD to. There was no fighting the impulse.
And I am pleased to say that my love of the movie had not faded. Nothing in it came back as a surprise, nor was there anything I hadn't seen before. It was almost as if the ten year gap hadn't even happened. I was just hanging out with my buddies Dante and Randal again. Okay, when I first saw the movie, they were "adults" and I was a "kid," and now they look and sound shockingly young, but, still, it's Dante and Randal. And Jay and Bob. I talked along with parts of it, but at key emotional moments, I went silent, I took it in. It was as familiar as ever, and it was as engaging as ever.
And then it ended. And I was on cloud nine. And I wanted to watch it again.
I couldn't. I didn't have time, and I had stuff to do. But the urge... oh, the urge... It was like being 17 again, and feeling like I could just watch that movie - hang out with my friends Dante, Randal, Jay, Bob, Veronica, and Willam - all day long, until I passed out.
Why? I'd never asked myself that before. Why is this a movie that I would compulsively watch and then start over again, and again, and again?
I mean, there are a lot of clear reasons why I took to it so much. Seeing people in a movie who talked obsessively about Star Wars the way that my friends and I did - back before geek chic made it acceptable to do so with anybody, anytime, anywhere - was a revelation. Seeing a character who suffered the same paralyzing fear of taking risks, to the point of letting his intelligence and talents completely go to waste, deeply spoke to me (though, as I alluded above, I still haven’t managed to actually fix that problem in myself). But, honestly, there are other movies that have had a comparable impact on me, and none of them inspire that same very specific urge to watch it again right away almost every single time.
So, what is it that makes me want to watch it again without taking so much as a breath?
I think I’ve finally nailed it down.
It’s about the last five seconds of the movie. (There be spoilers in these waters.) After Randal has walked out the door, he pops back in, throws the “I assure you we’re open” sign at Dante and says, “You’re closed,” Dante smiles and starts to walk away, the music comes up, cut to credits… and I am on such a high, like at no other point in the movie, right there. The last 90 minutes have built up so much, and it all peaks right there, and the feeling of connection, joy, and possibility is fantastic… for five seconds… and it’s all over.
And I need it back. I need to sustain that feeling. I need to get there.
I’m chasing the dragon. I’m addicted to the feeling that the last five seconds of Clerks inspires in me. And it’s a true addiction. I can quit it for years, but when I taste it again, just once, it’s as strong as it ever was.
My name is Evan, and I’m a Clerksaholic.
Tokyo, a smoldering memorial to the unknown, an unknown which at this very moment still prevails and could at any time lash out with its terrible destruction anywhere else in the world.