After premiering at Sundance, Miramax debuted Clerks in theaters on Oct. 19, 1994, kickstarting screenwriter-director Kevin Smith’s career (which would eventually include two more Clerks sequels). The Hollywood Reporter’s original review of the feature is below:
Hell for Dante Hicks, of the New Jersey Hicks, is not a descent into a fiery inferno but rather a stint in a chilly convenience store where the disheveled slagheads of the world accost him for cigarettes, tabloid news and use of the bathroom. A skit-ish stream of storefront philosophy, Clerks is a wonderfully screwy send-up of down-low Americana.
Bagged in low-budget black and white, Clerks is a comedic breath of fresh/stale air here among the dramatic competition entrants at the Sundance Film Festival. Not the type of endeavor likely to snare heavyweight honors, unless it wins the Audience Award, Clerks‘ best days seem yet to come.
Like the world catastrophes that usually happen in the wee, small hours, Dante Hicks’ (Brian O’Halloran) world comes down during a 12-hour stint at the cash register on a day that he was “not even supposed to be here.”
Characteristically dragged in at the last minute to sub for one of his sloth-head cohorts, Dante faces a long-shift salvo of transient weirdness, a non-stop parade of life’s chronic, one-stop shoppers. But it is not only the lonely and the loony that torment Dante. He faces gnawing internal dilemmas as well, filed largely under the what-to-do-with-my-life category.
Happily for Dante, as well as all us ’90s stragglers at large, there is a nearby font of illumination and guidance, namely from Randel (Jeff Anderson) the underemployed guy in the porn-video store next door. With Randel’s provocative, therapeutic promptings, Dante takes control of his life: He closes the store for a rooftop hockey game, makes overtures to his engaged ex-girlfriend, harangues his current squeeze over the fact that she’s gone down on 37 different guys and gets fined $500 for selling cigarettes to a 4-year-old.
As sublime as countertop donuts and as nourishing as a rack of girlie magazines, Clerks is a terrific movie gorge. Screenwriter-director Kevin Smith’s low-key musings and loopy wisdom are nicely wrapped with an unaffected sweetness.
O’Halloran as the frazzled Dante and Anderson as the cooled Randel bounce off each other with a winning craziness. They’re likely to win nods of recognition, particularly from twentysomethings.
Tech contributions in this straight-on underslant are appropriately unaffected. — Duane Byrge, originally published on January 28, 1994.
