Dear Frank,

An embarrassing fact about me: After 17 years, I forget how many movies, and no shortage of ridiculous antics, I still kinda love Kevin Smith. I’m not sure why. Maybe I have a hard time letting go of things I loved in my adolescence, or maybe there’s just something about his familiar patter that I find comforting — the point is, while I haven’t seen Red State or whatever else he’s been working on lately, I’m still deeply fond of him.

I say this because I stumbled into rewatching Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back yesterday — Hulu Plus didn’t even bother putting commercials on it, Frank! — and it was like finding a musty old afghan in the back of the closet, curling up in its familiar comfort, and trying to ignore the smells.

Jay and Silent Bob, Frank, is Kevin Smith’s fifth film in the so-called “View Askewniverse,” a universe of interconnected characters largely residing in suburban New Jersey but truly united by their love of big words, gay jokes and nerd references. Two of these films were grounded indie fare (Clerks, Chasing Amy), while Mallrats went the Porky’s-esque route and Dogma… Yeah, I’m not really sure what Dogma was.

The point is, Smith wanted to move on from writing films heavily dependent on catchphrases and drug glorification, and so he declared that Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back would be his final “Askewniverse” film.

He decided, Frank, to go out in style. By “style,” I of course mean “gross overindulgence.”

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