REVIEW: Yoga Hosers

September 13, 2016

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"...there’s a frivolity to the film that’s completely disarming..."
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REVIEW: Yoga Hosers

John Noonan
Year: 2016
Rating: M
Director: Kevin Smith
Cast:

Harley Quinn Smith, Lily-Rose Depp, Kevin Smith, Johnny Depp

Distributor: Roadshow
Released: September 15
Running Time: 87 minutes
Worth: $12.00

FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth

…there’s a frivolity to the film that’s completely disarming…

Filmmaker, Kevin Smith, hasn’t been secretive about how his latest project, The True North Trilogy, a series of horror/exploitation films set in Canada, ties into his View Askewniverse films that made him such a big name in the indie scene. Indeed, the second part of his trilogy, Yoga Hosers, bears a passing resemblance to his store-based debut, Clerks, albeit with a fantastical Buffy The Vampire Slayer twist.

Colleen M (Harley Quinn Smith) and Colleen C (Lily-Rose Depp) are BFFs and clerks for the Eh-2-Zed store. Having experienced a modicum of fame for their part in the events of Smith’s previous film, Tusk, the two fifteen-year-olds are happy to shirk their responsibilities at the store, whilst superglued to their smart phones. When their shift is interrupted by a battalion of murderous anthropomorphised bratwurst (all played by Kevin Smith), the girls become caught up in the dark history of Canadian Nazism. No, really.

Taking a break from the dark foreboding of his last few films, Smith may have returned to the pop-culture well, but he still shows signs of trying to do something different. In this case, a monster movie aimed squarely at the teen market, with the Colleens tackling growing pains as well as evil meat products. Weaknesses come in the shape of Johnny Depp’s faux-Clouseau, Guy LaPointe, another Tusk alumnus, who may very well be Depp’s interpretation of Mike Myers’ much maligned Fat Bastard. Equally, the film could do without the Colleens’ musical numbers that pepper the first act and threaten to poison any goodwill towards the duo. This is not Smith’s strongest work, but there’s a frivolity to the film that’s completely disarming, and after a rough start of one too many jokes “aboot” how Canadians talk, it’s hard not to be won over by the bubble-gum sweetness of it all, eh?

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