Yoga Hosers — Blue Fairy Film Blog

Kevin Smith seems to be in a weird place right now. Though I would like to use the bulk of this review to chastise him, in equal strides I would like to ask if he is okay. Are you okay, Kevin Smith? You must know what toll you are taking on the goodwill you have built over the past twenty years, by releasing this odd mélange of wrong. This is the second film in his True North trilogy, the first being “Tusk,” and to believe that there will be a third installment in this parade of nonsense is almost unthinkable. You may think me harsh, but honestly all I keep thinking is “What the hell did I just watch?”

It has been a day since I watched “Yoga Hosers,” and I am not sure that I have fully processed the ridiculous nature of the script, characters, setting, and the type of comedy exhibited. You know when you watch a foreign comedy, and the humor is based in that region’s customs and inside jokes, so you’re not completely sure it is funny? That’s what it felt like watching this film. I wasn’t sure why people in the film were laughing, because I didn’t think anything funny had been said. The first five minutes were enjoyable, what with the ode to Riot Gurrl, and punk music, but it slowly devolved into Canadian borne parody and references to things that may only land with a select few audience members.

This is obviously a passion project for Kevin Smith, as he enlisted the help of all his own family, as well as the Depp-Paradis clan. I’m not being hyperbolic either. In this film alone the cast includes Kevin Smith’s daughter, wife, and himself, as well as a disguised Johnny Depp, his former partner Vanessa Paradis, their son Jack, and daughter Lily-Rose. Though it must have been fun for the two clans to come together for this farce, it leaves the entire film feeling like a cameo laden catastrophe rather than a fluid comedy. It also doesn’t help that the film continually uses the device of an Instagram-like app to give us the low down on literally every character. This ties into the plot at first, as the girls are strongly attached to their phones, and it comes into play later in the story, but becomes obnoxious in short order.

If you like weird, yes, this film may have some elemental plot devices and visuals you will like, but honestly none of this made sense. Why is their use of yoga tantamount to martial arts? What the hell is with those stupid Bratzis? What does Guy Lapointe have to do with anything? (If you say watch “Tusk,” you will understand the plot better, I sincerely doubt it.) This mishmash of stupid is never clever, cute, satirical, or even fun. If you are a Kevin Smith fan, maybe there’s something worthwhile in here for you, but be forewarned that “Clerks,” this ain’t.