Clerks Analysis - Write What You Know
Kevin Smith’s 1994 stoner-comedy Clerks launched multiple careers (not least the writer / director / star), two installments to round out the trilogy, and a shared cinematic universe.
I used my recent New York trip with Kinolime to hop the ferry to Leonardo, New Jersey - where Smith filmed Clerks and its sequels - and soaked in the birthplace of a cult legacy.
Back in Manhattan, I caught a Q&A with Smith at the Dogma rerelease, where he emphasized the importance of drawing from personal experience to channel your unique voice - the greatest weapon you have. Clerks embodies the rookie writing advice - write what you know - more than most, shot in Smith’s hometown and the store where he worked, featuring characters inspired by oddball customers, some even cast in the film.
Today we’re diving into the screenplay that launched Smith’s career and looking at how crucial personal experience can be in shaping a writer’s voice.
OPENING IMAGE
The screenplay opens with Dante, a whiny, aimless twenty-something, getting a call to cover a sick coworker’s shift at the Quick Stop convenience store.
Within a page, Dante is defined. He’s a pushover, constantly sidelined. He even plays second fiddle to his dog, who takes the bed and forces Dante to sleep in the closet.
Dante is a loser. If you tell him to jump, he might whine, he might groan, but he will eventually (and begrudgingly) ask you ‘how high?’ He avoids conflict if it requires a single iota of effort. Smith crafts a character we pity, yet one whose flaws we can spend the whole film dissecting.
SET UP
At work, Dante takes over from Arthur (cut from the final film), who’s called in sick. He insists he’s only staying until 2 p.m., when the boss is supposed to arrive - but Arthur’s look tells the audience that the boss isn’t coming. Dante’s stuck here all day.
Before leaving, Arthur introduces Randal - who works next door at the video store (remember those?). Even unseen, we learn he’s Dante’s opposite: outspoken, impulsive, unapologetic. Dante treats him like a warning, using Randal to justify his own passive approach to life.
This reflects Smith’s own life - not just the setting, but the characters, and the elaborate, rapid-fire dialogue. When criticized for writing characters that all sound like him, he replied, “Good, because I wrote them. My heart and soul is in those characters.”
We set up various plot points, like the arrival of the "tobacco people." Smith introduces his rotating cast of quirky customers, starting with an anti-smoking activist - who successfully discourages a customer from purchasing tobacco. Smith takes characters from his daily experiences, romanticises and parodies them, and plugs them into his story. Many of these characters are eventually played by their direct inspirations.
Outside, Jay and Silent Bob - standout characters and future stars of their own spin offs - deal drugs and threaten / attempt to seduce passing locals.
Inside, the activist is whipping impassioned customers up - convincing them that the tobacco industry is manipulating them and encouraging a boycott.
INCITING INCIDENT
Clerks lacks a traditional inciting incident, but Dante’s motivations can be split into two at this juncture: the external goal (survive another grueling day at minimum wage) and the internal one (figure out what kind of man he wants to be). While the external struggle is clear from the start, the internal challenge shows up in the form of his girlfriend Veronica.
After dispersing the tobacco mob with a fire extinguisher, Veronica makes the same old plea she’s been making for (presumably) years - “get off your ass and change your life if you hate it so damn much!” Yet Dante is sedentary, reluctantly hearing the call to action but content to whine about his situation rather than fix it. "I’m not even supposed to be here today" becomes his rallying cry, a way to throw his hands up and ask, "Why me?"
DEBATE
Their conversation drags on, with Veronica refusing to indulge Dante’s self-pity. Tension builds when she accuses him of still being hung up on his ex, Caitlin. They retreat behind the counter to talk privately, leaving a few dollars on top for customers to grab their change.
Well versed in recognizing and dodging these fights, Veronica shifts gears, trying to coax Dante back to school, attempting to entice him out of his comfort zone.
Their argument is interrupted by the arrival of William, one of Veronica’s exes, which prompts a jealousy fuelling the fire of Dante’s discontent. He probes into her sexual past; initially he’s relieved to hear she’s only had three sexual partners (including him), but subsequently freaks out when he learns she’s blown thirty-seven (also including him).
His knee-jerk reaction causes Veronica to storm out.
As we approach Act Two, the question emerges: can Dante change and grow, or is he doomed to settle for this fluorescent limbo?
BREAK INTO TWO
As Dante’s world burns, we shift to Randal’s video store. Randal acts like the Virgil of this story - a poet and philosopher (of sorts) guiding Dante. Unlike our obstinate hero, Randal revels in testing how far he can push his laziness without getting fired. He mocks, insults, and abuses his customers wherever possible - because hell, minimum wage, minimum effort.
In contrast to the doom and gloom of Act One, Randal tries to bring a carefree vibe to Act Two, something Dante resists with everything he’s got.
FUN AND GAMES
Randal urges Dante to forget Caitlin and commit to Veronica, who’ll put up with his flaws, while Caitlin cheated on him eight (nearly nine) times. Dante insists Caitlin’s changed and that they’re "on the same wavelength now" - but then Randal delivers some bad news:
Randal loudly orders explicit adult tapes from his distributor in front of a mother and child, while Dante tries to verify with the newspaper that there’s been a misprint. The editor hangs up on him.
Trying to lift Dante’s spirits, Randal posits an interesting theory: when Lando Calrissian and the Rebels blow up the second Death Star in Return of the Jedi, it’s still incomplete, meaning innocent contractors - plumbers, roofers, etc - are killed in the process. He questions if this makes the Rebels the bad guys. A local Blue-Collar Man then chimes in, saying he turned down a roofing job for a local gangster because of his personal politics. The guy who took the job was later killed in a hit on the homeowner.
This endless theorizing is the kind of conversation that fills long, quiet retail days. You can almost feel the moments Smith transcribed from real life, saving them for later use. He even makes them thematically relevant, turning the anecdote into a parable about weighing up responsibility against ambition.
At the video store, Randal ignores and insults a customer, pushing her to swear never to return. He's quickly racking up a list of ex-customers in just one morning. Meanwhile, Dante watches a man obsessively search for the perfect dozen eggs. Another customer jokes that this is typical guidance counselor behavior.
While Dante steps away, Randal mans the counter, unconsciously selling cigarettes to a child.
Not content with insulting his own customers, Randal starts showing explicit images and sharing graphic stories with Dante's patrons. Dante panics, worried he’ll lose his job because of Randal’s antics. Randal, unbothered, pushes him to complain about the customers who drive him crazy - get it out of his system.
Veronica comes back, bringing Dante lasagna for lunch. They make up for their earlier fight, though Randal can’t resist slipping thirty-seven into the conversation whenever he can. With a homemade lunch, his spat patched up, and his shift about to end - things are looking up.
MIDPOINT
Dante learns what we already know - there’s nobody to take the afternoon shift. With the boss in Vermont until Tuesday, Dante’s stuck at work from open to close for the next four days.
Ever ‘buckling by a belt’, Dante accepts his fate, concedes he’ll miss his 4PM hockey game, and even apologises for freaking out. Randal immediately rips into him for folding, criticising him for bowing down to authority. If he redirected the energy reserved for whining into standing up for himself, he’d be a new man.
BAD TO WORSE
For the first time, Dante embraces Randal’s bad influence - refusing to miss his hockey game. He even arranges to play in the parking lot (or on the Quick Stop roof in the film). However, he still refuses to let his teammates help themselves to the Quick Stop’s Gatorade, signalling his hesitation to fully commit to this act of rebellion.
As the game commences, a frustrated customer is told he’ll have to wait for service until the first period ends. When he criticises Dante’s playstyle, he’s invited to join in, but the lone hockey ball gets lost in the process, abruptly ending the game and darkening the perpetual cloud hanging over Dante’s head.
Back on duty, Dante lets an elderly customer use the staff restroom out of pity - only to regret it when the man asks for nicer toilet paper and to “borrow” a porno magazine.
Randal drops a bomb: Julie, one of Dante’s exes, has died of an embolism. Shaken, Dante spirals further into nihilism and decides to attend her wake. Though he barely knew her, Randal refuses to miss “the social event of the season” and won’t cover the store, requiring a second closure in one afternoon.
In an axed scene at the wake (later released as an animated deleted scene), Dante runs into Bonnie, a friend of Julie’s, who casually drops that everyone knew about Caitlin’s engagement - except him.
Disturbed by Julie’s revealing open casket attire, Dante and Randal accidentally drop the car keys down her dress. As they try to retrieve them, her father walks in - just in time to misread the scene as wildly inappropriate. Chaos erupts, the casket tips, and Julie’s body spills out. They bolt.
Back at the store, Dante’s still reeling from the wake fiasco and just wants to lay low. Randal, unfazed, wants to borrow his car to pick up Samantha - a girlfriend he refuses to call his girlfriend. When Dante says no, they argue but, of course, Dante caves.
BREAK INTO THREE
Left alone again, Dante’s stuck dealing with irritating customers - like a pushy Trainer who mocks his physique while hawking an aerobics program. Mid-conversation, Dante’s blindsided with a $500 fine for selling cigarettes to a minor - something Randal did without telling him. To top it off, the Trainer reveals he slept with Caitlin while she was dating Dante, pushing him even closer to his breaking point.
FINALE
Just when it seems things can’t get any weirder, Caitlin shows up from out of state. Though Dante’s relieved to see her, he’s also distant - still stung that she hid her engagement from him.
Caitlin insists she never accepted the Asian design major’s proposal and plans to call the wedding off. Sensing an opening, Dante makes his pitch for their reunion, Veronica and Caitlin’s fiancé be damned. She’s willing to hear him out and agrees to a date that evening.
Randal returns to find Dante on cloud nine over Caitlin - barely fazed by the tobacco fine. He’s impressed but suspicious, and brings up the elephant in the room: Veronica.
Caitlin returns with an overnight bag. She heads to the employee restroom but learns the lights don’t work. Outside, Jay shares a crude story about Veronica’s past, reminding Dante of her widely understood history of infidelity.
Caitlin emerges from the bathroom “very satisfied,” thinking she and Dante just had incredible sex in the dark. Stunned, Dante has to break the news - it wasn’t him.
Smash cut to the old man from earlier - dead in the bathroom for hours. A coroner wheels his body out of the Quick Stop.
With Caitlin in shock, Randal has questions about the logistics of what just happened. The Coroner supposes the Old Man’s heart gave out mid-magazine session - yet somehow stayed aroused for hours.
Dante sinks deeper into his despair. Randal, fed up with the endless whining, finally decides it’s time to hit him with some hard truths.
He goes on…
Randal tells Dante that the only person who can transform his life is himself, then leaves him to think it over. With half an hour until close, Dante starts winding down. Jay comes in for wraps, rolls a joint, and calls Dante out for two-timing Veronica.
Somehow, Jay’s rambling hits home in a way Randal never could. Dante’s so used to tuning Randal out, it takes an outside voice to snap him back to reality. He realises he’s taken Veronica for granted - and that he genuinely loves her.
Next door, Randal’s repeating everything Dante’s ever said about Veronica right to her face. Furious, she storms in and attacks Dante, unloading on him with such blunt fury that Randal’s jabs seem mild by comparison.
She tells him Randal spilled all his secrets and leaves him shattered. The two clerks fight, wrecking the store, as Randal insists he was helping Dante. Dante shoots back, questioning Randal’s purpose in life beyond making him miserable. The final sting is Randal’s assessment of “I shouldn’t even be here today” - stipulating that Dante is here of his own volition and is the author of his own fate.
They start to reconcile, cleaning up the damage they've done, and accept that tomorrow promises to be another day of the same old shi(f)t. There's a sense that both have grown; Dante shows more proactivity and acceptance of his lot, while Randal assumes a bit more responsibility.
CLOSING IMAGE
In sharp contrast to the final film, the screenplay ends with John, a local junkie, shooting Dante dead to steal from the register - a perfect end to his horrendous day.
WHAT MAKES IT SPECIAL
Clerks is, at its core, a passion project born from a young filmmaker’s determination, funded by family loans, maxed-out credit cards, and the barest resources. It’s personal, intimate, and unapologetically bizarre. The film breaks conventional filmmaking rules, turning the mundane into something meaningful. It revived the spirit of low-budget indie cinema, echoing the successes of the 70s and 80s, reminiscent of filmmakers like Jim Jarmusch, Spike Lee, Steven Soderbergh, and George Miller.
Clerks proves how writing what you know can offer a distinctive perspective. Fresh out of high school and stuck in retail, Smith must have seen the world beyond the Quick Stop as almost mythical. Instead of inventing grand tales, he looked inward - romanticizing the everyday. With nothing but time and imagination, even the smallest moments can feel significant. That’s what sets Clerks apart: it turns the ordinary into something humorous, introspective, or sentimental.
Harness your own stories, the people you’ve met, the moments you’ve endured or relished - and give them a home in the story of your life. It’s clear to see that Dante and Randal represent two warring factions within Smith’s psyche and the screenplay is a way for him to live vicariously by actualising what he wishes he could say to pesty members of the public.
In conclusion, I will reiterate Smith’s advice as reported by the Creative Echo.
"Tell that story that is only yours. There’s a predilection toward people wanting to imitate what they’ve seen before or what is successful... Your unique, only-you perspective—that’s your currency in this life. Nobody else has that. Your voice is your currency. That’s all you’ve got, man."
We award Clerks a 5/5.
