Nobody will ever confuse Kevin Smith for Ingmar Bergman.

Now, that isn’t to say Kevin Smith does not write and direct strong films. He does. Everything the man’s written, from his New Jersey Trilogy (Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy) to the faith questing Dogma, to the issues of Daredevil acclaimed by the highest echelons in nerddom, has been nothing short of stellar.

Unfortunately, Mr. Smith apparently comes from the “home video” school of film, where one points a camera, the actors say their lines, and then yells “CUT! That’s a print” once the actors are done.

Sheer brilliance accounted for, this is simply not a movie for directors. Screenwriters, on the other hand, should read it, worship it, nurture it, and bring it home to their parents. Those with an eye for visuals may very well flinch, as there are few noteworthy angles and next to no dynamic lighting, the sort of thing one would expect from a debuting director.

All that said, is Clerks a good movie?

Hell yes.

Clerks follows the life of lovable loser Dante Hicks (a Smith regular by the name of Brian O’Halloran, check out his cameos in the other films) in his dead-end job as, you guessed it, a convenience store clerk. Dante has a problem, you see. His life sucks, and he’s vocally aware of this fact. While there are certainly Higher Powers working agaist him moving on in life, the audience gradually realizes that the one major problem in Dante’s life is his unwillingness to improve his station in life (to quote a bit of dialogue).

Dante suffers through a day best summarized as ODTAA (One Damn Thing After Another), and helping through the hysterical perils of such varied activities as corpse-tipping and roof hockey is his friend Randall (Jeff Anderson, himself with a cameo in Dogma). Randall, one of Smith’s most outright hysterical characters, is the video clerk at the rental store attached to Dante’s convenience store, and seems quite happy with his job. Randall take-no-shit attitude with the world at large is portrayed in stark contrast to Dante’s sniggling compliance.

Dante, stuck working on his day off, is met with ODTAA from all sides. Smokers led to riot pelt him with cigarettes, former high school friends mock his physical fitness, and all manner of insipid customers bother him endlessly. Dante merely smiles, nods, and later on complains about the unfairness of it all to great comedic effect.

His greatest conflict comes when an old high school flame, Caitlin (Lisa Spoonauer), comes back to town and her upcoming marriage is announced in the local paper. Dante never quite stopped loving Caitlin even though she cheated on him repeatedly, and a golden opportunity to get in one last night with her presents itself. In typical form, Dante deliberates on the pros and cons of choosing the risky-but-tantalizing route or the safe, sure route of his current fling. The former is exciting and the latter less so, but the former is most assuredly doomed to failure.

Randall constantly drills it into Dante’s head that life is simply not what is handed to you, that most of it is created if you dare to take charge. Deliberation and retrospect have their place, but nobody can survive on reflection alone. Only by the film’s end do we see if Dante takes the advice to heart.

And, since this is a Kevin Smith film, it is abso-goddamn-lutely hilarious. The verbal wit is unsurpassed and, for this reason alone, this film should remain in the esteem of film classes and schools nationwide. Quentin Tarantino’s dialogue is praised and noted simply because it is all so outlandish, but Kevin Smith really zeroes in on the comedy of everyday life. His films are so poignant and lasting because they are the words of the Everyman, glorified and put on the silver sceen. His movies are about nerds. His movies are about us.

The character interactions are honest, the words real and the feelings genuine. Some of the acting is not exactly Martin Scorcese material (the thing was budgeted on a credit card, after all) but these are mostly secondary roles, and the leads never falter. What’s particularly fun is to watch Marilyn Ghigliotti (the actress who portrays Dante’s Fair Lady, Veronica) mature as the movie goes on. When the movie starts she’s wooden and caricatured, and by the movie’s end she’s on par with the other leads.

It warrants repeating that Clerks is completely substance, with little regard or care for style. This is not necessarily a bad thing; that’s just the kind of movie Clerks is. Substance, pure and simple. Kick back, soak yourself into the scene, and watch these people carry on with lives as painful, funny, and heartfelt as our own.