6.5

The 4:30 Movie Digs into Kevin Smith’s Garden State Roots

The 4:30 Movie Digs into Kevin Smith’s Garden State Roots

Nothing announces itself quite so distinctly as dialogue that’s been written by Kevin Smith. The writer-director’s brand of sardonic, pop culture-obsessed wit was first platformed in his lauded feature debut Clerks, and has gone on to receive somewhat mixed reactions in his subsequent works. Mallrats was a befuddled commercial flop; general consensus still can’t decide if Chasing Amy prevails as an intimate examination of identity or a bad-faith mockery of lesbianism; and Dogma’s send-up of Catholicism contains hints of underdeveloped atheistic talking points. Despite their imperfections (which some harp on more than others), these early works are easily Smith’s strongest because his voice resounds so heavily. Compare them to his middling, more recent projects, like horror misfire Tusk, its even worse spin-off Yoga Hosers and hare-brained NFT project KillRoy Was Here. While still leagues beneath the slacker-inspired brilliance of his early career works, The 4:30 Movie does at least concertedly cement itself in Smith’s prose and perspective. 

Admittedly, the filmmaker has been heading back in this direction, what with the subpar but inoffensive Clerks III and the obnoxiously fan-dedicated Jay and Silent Bob Reboot. By temporarily abandoning the View Askewniverse and the characters that Smith obsessively revisits throughout his filmography, the director finally gets back to his Garden State roots in a way that feels endearingly self-centered instead of incessantly self-referential. 

Set in the nostalgic 1980s haze of Smith’s adolescence, baby-faced actor Austin Zajur embodies the filmmaker’s teenage avatar, the appropriately-named Brian David. The film opens with an extended phone call between Brian and his long-time crush Melody Barnegat (Siena Agudong), who he finally musters up the courage to reconnect with after he majorly dropped the ball on their budding romance the previous summer. Following an excruciatingly granular unpacking of the intersection between Poltergeist, Tobe Hooper and Steven Spielberg (“Wow, you sure know a lot about movies,” Melody flatly declares several times), Brian schmoozes his way into a date with his dream girl at the local cineplex for, you guessed it, a 4:30 movie. 

The only problem is that Brian already made plans to meet his best buds, suave Italian Burny (Nicholas Cirillo) and feckless mouth-breather Belly (Reed Northrup), for a racy new release that same day. He convinces the crew to pay for one ticket to an early afternoon show, sneak into the R-rated skin flick and spend time movie-hopping until Melody shows up. They’ll need to avoid volatile theater manager Mike (Ken Jeong) and ornery ticket-takers, but they remain committed to their plan even as increasingly bizarre hurdles befall them. 

Aside from the expected riffs on the then-unforeseen rise of nerd culture (the enduring relevance of Marvel, Star Wars and other IP are loudly refuted at several turns), Smith returns to form by utilizing a location that he has the keys to. The bulk of The 4:30 Movie was shot in Smodcastle Cinemas, the Central New Jersey theater that Smith bought back in 2022. This is particularly befitting of the film’s autobiographical nature, as the theater is the same one that Smith used to frequent throughout his childhood (indeed, this nostalgic connection is why he bought the declining cinema in the first place). Much like the Quick Stop convenience store that he shot Clerks in, the filmmaker’s personal relationship with the space imbues the characters, and his directorial gaze, with a believable familiarity. 

As far as the narrative arc is concerned, Smith solidly situates himself amid exaggerated clichés that are seldom rewarding on their own. Where the film shines is in its meta examinations of ‘80s media, with playful takes on the era’s trailers, genre films and cinephilic canon. There’s also plenty of room for a revolving door of cameos from the director’s frequent collaborators, from Justin Long as a drooling cinemaniac to Smith’s daughter, Harley Quinn, as on-screen exploitation character Sister Sugar Walls. It’s clear that what truly fulfills the filmmaker is the opportunity to involve his friends, loved ones and role models into his creative process, and it’s heartening to see the resultant project unfold as an earnest personal meditation rather than another flaccid attempt at pure fan service. 

The heart attack that Smith suffered in 2018 continues to influence his work, as well. Clerks III centered on Dante’s (Brian O’Halloran, who undoubtedly serves as the protagonist’s namesake and also makes a brief appearance in The 4:30 Movie) new lease on life after narrowly escaping death from a “widow-making” blocked artery, and this film also traces the potential cause of his bad health habits in the form of snacking bacon. Furthermore, it’s touching that Smith employs a gentleness when interacting with his youthful self, even as he honestly probes his most annoying tendencies and immature instincts. While it doesn’t herald a definitive comeback for the once wryly astute writer-director, The 4:30 Movie feels more aligned with the old Smith, who up until now has been so beholden to the success of his own creations that he hasn’t properly taken the time to revisit his home-spun genesis. 

Director: Kevin Smith 
Writer: Kevin Smith 
Stars: Austin Zajur, Nicholas Cirillo, Reed Northrup, Siena Agudong, Ken Jeong
Release Date: September 13, 2024


Natalia Keogan is a freelance writer and editor with a concerted focus on independent film. Her interviews and criticism have appeared in Filmmaker MagazineReverse ShotBackstage Magazine, SlashFilm, Blood Knife and Daily Grindhouse, among others. She lives in Queens, New York with her large orange cat. Find her on Twitter @nataliakeogan

 
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