What happens when you put a total Kevin Smith n00b in a room with the man himself and 1,000 of his fans? An awakening.
I’ve talked before about my, ah, eclectic taste in movies. Between sometimes liking the film better than the book and enjoying some pretty widely recognized terrible movies, I’ve seen my fair share of cult classic films. Tremors. Rocky Horror. Super Mario Bros.
Shut up, John Leguizamo is precious in that movie.
Strange, then, that I’ve never stumbled across a Kevin Smith movie. All I knew about him prior to the event I attended at Indy PopCon a week ago was he usually wore an orange jersey and he played a character named Silent Bob. Oh, and he likes comic books.
In this day and age, and especially with this job, it astounds me how incredibly ignorant I continue to be. But I chalk it up to innocent naiveté and the ability to appear much smarter and more well-informed than I actually am. And somehow I still sleep at night.
So when my Hypabuddy Donya asked me if I wanted to attend his event at PopCon, I said yes. My other friends on staff enjoy his movies, and I try never to pass up an opportunity where I can learn about something brand new. Besides, it was an excuse to hang out with Donya for a few more hours that day. Considering she lives in the U.K. and we only see each other a few times a year (admittedly, more often than I see most of my friends back home), I wasn’t going to pass this up.
And, yes, I also saw the movie because Tyler Posey was in it. I’m nothing if not predictable.
The evening, unfortunately, started off on the wrong foot. The movie was supposed to start at 8:00 p.m. and 45 minutes later Kevin Smith still hadn’t arrived. Who knows why he was late, whether it was traffic or another commitment, but I satisfied myself with scrolling through Twitter and ignoring the terrible and offensive off-the-cuff stand-up routine someone was doing, wasting time until the man of the hour showed up.
When he arrived, the room erupted into applause and cheers and Kevin Smith fell into an easy routine. He likes to talk — a lot — but unlike most people, he always has something substantial to say. He weaves a complicated story, often going off on tangents before skillfully working a side plot back into the main conversation, giving you a thorough view of the sequence of events that led up to whatever he was introducing. Suddenly it’s been an hour and a half, I know the exact backstory to a movie I’ve never seen (Tusk), I’m both frightened and impressed, and I’ve internally vowed to watch every major movie this man has made.
He sucks you in like that. Kevin Smith is personable, self-deprecating, witty, and just flat out funny. He seems both absolutely normal and completely untouchable. In a single breath he’ll talk about loving a comic book so much it makes him cry and casually calling up Johnny Depp or Ben Affleck on the phone. This man is a series of contradictions, and yet he reeks of a person who has already lived life in the fullest, most unapologetic way with no intention of being anything other than himself, as strange as that may be, for the rest of his days.
His honesty as a person, and as a filmmaker in Hollywood, is at least part of the reason why fans gravitate toward this man and his movies. It’s refreshing to hear him talk so openly about his emotions, his struggles, his triumphs. His love for his daughter, who was in attendance for the Yoga Hosers screening, is palpable, and it’s clear that he doesn’t care if he’s done right by his critics or his fans, as long as he’s done right by her and by himself.
Then again, that same honesty can be a turnoff for some people. His dick jokes and weed humor (both onscreen and off) did fall flat for me on more than one occasion, but I don’t exactly fall into the target audience. Still, I found myself laughing far more often than not, and despite the sometimes stupid, crass humor he employs, you have to respect a person for being impassioned enough about something to unabashedly work toward their dreams, despite the many obstacles they have faced.
Kevin Smith cares far more about the message and the art than he does about the money or the clout, and that is something I can always respect.
So it’s after 10:00 p.m. now and we’re just getting to see Yoga Hosers. At this point, I know next to nothing. There are a couple of girls — one is his kid and the other is Johnny Depp’s — and they work at a convenience store. Only that night I found out it was a comedy/horror flick involving Nazi sausages.
Uh, what?
Regardless, I went in with an open, somewhat confused mind, and walked out the other side a lot more confused and a lot more open to seeing what else Kevin Smith had done in his career. Yoga Hosers was absolutely ridiculous in the best way possible. I’ll never forget those weird little Bratzis, but I kind of never want to. I was surprised and delighted and shocked, but never did I once think this endearingly stupid film wasn’t worth my time. Suddenly I wanted to know more — more about the filmmaker, more about the movie, more about this universe, and more about the people who have remained devoutly loyal to him over the last couple decades.
As I was quickly learning, the movie was over but Kevin Smith wasn’t done yet. He proceeded with a Q&A with his fans, who asked a range of questions from Clerks’ influence on this movie to asking Harley Quinn to sign her first body part (I believe it was on a man’s leg next to his Tusk tattoo — and I may not know much, but I do know I would never tattoo anything from Tusk on my person. Ever.) to the fate of his beloved Silent Bob character.
Unlike a lot of celebrities, Kevin Smith doesn’t just answer questions; he asks them, too. He interacts with you. A young girl got up to ask a question and after he answered her, he got to ask his own. What did she think of the movie? In his own words, Yoga Hosers was, after all, made for his inner 12-year-old girl. He doesn’t base the impact of his movies on commercial success, but instead on the reactions of his fans.
Donya and I also got tickets for Fatman on Batman, the comic book podcast he does with Marc Bernardin. I accidentally-on-purpose wore my (one of many) Iron Man shirt to the show, but considering it was 12:30 a.m., I was exhausted from a whole day at the con, and I still had an hour or more of the podcast to go, my Marvel attire was the least of my worries.
Indeed, the podcast lasted just under an hour and a half, but it confirmed just how genuine Kevin Smith is. He’s passionate about his interests and he’s not afraid to voice his opinions, but he likes to form a dialogue more than he likes to force his points of view on other people.
At the end of the day, Kevin Smith is one of us. I don’t mean he’s only human or he doesn’t live up to expectation; I mean he’s first and foremost a fan, who also happens to be a filmmaker. At the end of this episode of Fatman on Batman, he asked who in the room had a podcast (Donya and I enthusiastically threw our hands up). He was ecstatic there were so many podcasters in the same room, “but we could easily double that number next year.”
“I love that you listen to this podcast and I love coming to do it live and seeing people here in the room, but you know what I’d love even more?” he asked. “If each and every one of you in this room had your own fucking podcast, man, and you’re all telling your stories that you are passionate about.”
And that’s what it’s all about. Not only is Kevin Smith passionate about his own interests, but he’s passionate about inspiring others to follow their dreams, too. How could you not love someone like that, even if he doesn’t have the proper appreciation for the best Ninja Turtle of all, Donatello.
So, for anyone interested, I, along with my other Hypabuddy Danielle (who was also in attendance for the Yoga Hosers screening), will be watching all of Kevin Smith’s major films, in order, over the next week or so. You can expect an article of my reactions to go up soon after. It’s bound to be quite the ride.
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