I’m an unapologetic Kevin Smith fan. “Clerks” remains one of my favorite films, with it having the dubious honor of being the film I’ve returned to the most! The sequel was just as funny and even touching, albeit a little too overzealous and lost at times. “Mallrats” was hilarious, the right mixture of zaniness and humanity! “Chasing Amy,” while not holding up as well, still rings through due to its engaging cast and good intentions. “Dogma” is a brilliant takedown on organized religion! “Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back” was a fun romp, one that hasn’t been repeated in the duo’s various other film ventures (such as the underwhelming animated film). Hell, I didn’t even mind “Jersey Girl,” Kevin’s self-professed worst film!
The man has taken some interesting directions in his career after closing the book (temporarily) on his “View Askewniverse.” “Zack and Miri Make a Porno” was a raunchy comedy with heart, while “Cop Out” suffered due to the restrictions of its cliché-riddled script (not written by Smith, which was heavily apparent). Then he took the biggest leap of all with “Red State,” a horror film that doubled as a cinematic evisceration of the Westboro Baptist Church, a competently crafted one at that. He showed signs of weariness adapting to horror, but made up for it with vigor and edge. He carried that into “Tusk,” his most divisive film to date, striking well when focused on the mystery of it all, only collapsing under the weight of the hamstringed comedy. Still, I liked the film thanks in part to its brazenness.
I didn’t like “Yoga Hosers.” At times, I even hated it! It consists entirely of the aspects I didn’t like about “Tusk:” the lazy and obnoxious humor, exaggerated tone, slavish devotion to both Canada & Johnny Depp, and being weird for the sake of being weird. There’s no brazenness here, meaning there was next to nothing for me to latch on to. For eighty-eight minutes, I sat in agony as bad joke after bad joke played out before me. I’ve never had a bad time with a Kevin Smith film until now. I wish the unapologetic in me would’ve surfaced, but he fled for safety.
The only anchor I could grasp in the film were the leads, Lily-Rose Depp (Johnny Depp’s daughter) & Harley Quinn Smith (Kevin Smith’s daughter). This is funny because a lot of the criticism lodged against this film is Kevin’s direction of the two. Many found his love for his daughter and devotion to doing Johnny Depp’s daughter justice stunted him from effectively directing them, leaving them to hang out to dry. While it’s evident he lost control at times, kicking back to let their talents shine no matter its purpose (such as the constant musical numbers to highlight their singing abilities), he does a commendable job for the most part in extracting their qualities and bringing them to screen.
Both Smith & Depp ooze presence and charisma, commanding the screen! Both are adept at comedy, playing off one another ala Abbott & Costello and Laurel & Hardy by way of Beavis & Butt-head. Smith is sweet but slightly aloof, while Depp is smart but slightly mean-spirited. The latter’s sardonic wit is worthy of a few laughs, such as when she warmly berates her best friend for thinking their gym teacher is talking to two other Colleens. The former’s dimwittedness is also worthy of a few laughs, such as when she quickly checks to make sure there aren’t any other Colleens present. It’s a subtle comedic touch, one usually found in seasoned vets, boding well for the future of both young actresses.
When I say I liked Smith & Depp in the film, that doesn’t mean I liked their characters. I liked their performances in spite of the lousy script they’ve been dealt, reducing them to self-absorbed teenage caricatures. This is fine for minor characters, as they were in “Tusk,” but not as protagonists of a feature film. A film, mind you, where they must combat evil Nazi bratwurst (Bratzis) and save the day, not a down to Earth examination of convenience store Hell like “Clerks” was. And even then, that film had the straight-faced Dante to play opposite the rambunctious Randall. Neither of the Colleens are written to be straight-faced or rambunctious, just shortsighted avatars of today’s teenage youth: self-absorbed cell phone junkies whose intelligence shines when faced with both dilemma and inspiration. This observation has been done to death at this point, so any shred of humanity hiding beneath the surface is stuck underneath the familiarity.
Back to those Bratzis I so carelessly namedropped. They’re the film’s main antagonists, the diabolical workings of Andronicus Arcane (Ralph Garman), a Canadian Nazi awoken from his cryogenic slumber by the Colleens. He’s made the Bratzis to commandeer his greatest sculpture, a hulking beast reminiscent of Terror Mask from “Splatterhouse” (who in turn was heavily reminiscent of Jason Voorhees). Their mission is to hunt down and kill every art critic that’s ever criticized Arcane’s sculptures, a not-so-subtle reference to Adolph Hitler slowly turning mad over being dismissed by the snooty art critics of an art school. The Bratzis aren’t good at following orders, though, dismembering Canadians such as Hunter Calloway (Austin Butler) & Gordon Greenleaf (Tyler Posey), two seniors who want to murder the sophomore Colleens in a bizarre subplot that gets hacked to shreds in favor of the main one. That’s just the tip of the iceberg.
“Yoga Hosers” is chock full of bizarreness, though all of it is lacking a certain zest to it. Even the walrus mutation in “Tusk,” as obnoxiously outlandish as it was, had zest to it. The Bratzis, the cartoonish Nazi flashbacks featuring Haley Joel Osment, the goofy yoga instructor Yogi Bayer (Justin Long, either failing at improv or being saddled with the worst dialogue this side of a Tommy Wiseau film), the tattooed drummer Ichabod (Adam Brody), the Stan Lee cameo, the Instagram cutaways, and the highly inappropriate parents in Ms. McKenzie (Jennifer Schwalbach) and Mr. Collette (Tony Hale) all fail to register because of a lack of energy. Even Guy Lapointe (Johnny Depp), the wacked-out private investigator from “Tusk,” is lacking in energy, no longer wacked-out, just out of it. I grew tired quickly of Depp’s shtick in “Tusk;” here it seems Depp grew tired of it, muttering his lines in a sleepy haze. Can’t say I blame him, as his lines are mostly centered on calling the teenagers out on being teenagers and calling out critics on being critics.
And don’t get me started on the Canada angle! The film is set in Canada, Kevin Smith’s latest obsession, and it reeks of Canadian stereotypes. The characters constantly say “aboot,” they constantly talk about hockey, they constantly politely apologize for being rude, and they constantly reference beavers. Every product is converted into something Canadian, such as “Lucky Charms” becoming “Pucky Charms.” I like puns just as much as the next person (arguably too much), but even I know they work in small doses, not stretched out for the entirety of a feature-length film. That’s why the stereotypes worked so well in “South Park.” That and because Matt Stone and Trey Parker were taking the piss out of the stereotypes, whereas “Yoga Hosers” is just the piss.
The problem with “Yoga Hosers” is that Kevin Smith doesn’t have an agenda. The film isn’t an observation on counterculture that made up the “View Askewniverse.” It’s not an attack on organized religion such as “Dogma” & “Red State.” It’s not even entranced in its own bizarre proclivities as “Tusk” was. The only agenda Kevin Smith has is to give his and Johnny Depp’s daughter a chance to anchor their own film. Too bad he didn’t give them a good film to anchor.
Final Rating: D+