I can’t with Kevin Smith anymore. So continuing in the universe where Tusk left off, this is the further adventures of the convenience store clerks (Harley Quinn Smith, Lily-Rose Depp) that played a small part in the first movie. They have to deal with a number of annoyances, like a trashy step-mother, the Canadian public, satanic high school boys and miniature Nazis engineered out of sausage. At this point I have all but given up on Kevin Smith; he hasn’t made a movie that I have connected with in about a decade, and I don’t like this new direction he his taking himself in. Granted, I do not listen to his SModcast, so I do realize there is a layer that I am personally missing to this, but I do also realize that the movies he is now making are all based on whatever happens on there. I know that’s how Tusk was thought up, and this movie seems like it was made based on one word that must have been uttered there: Bratzi.
Bratwurst + Nazi = Bratzi. Get it?
Now if there was one thing that I was absolutely certain of after watching Tusk, it was that I never needed to see the character Guy LaPointe ever again. I was just disliking that movie, but when he showed up in the third act, he single-handedly brought it to a new low. It was even more bizarre because you know Johnny Depp only shows up for a paycheck nowadays, so it was never clear why he was doing here to begin with, but with Yoga Hosers, it has become very clear: he’s doing this to further the acting career of his daughter, Lily-Rose Depp. If I was his daughter, I would urge my dad to stop trying to do me favors, because nobody walks away from this looking competent or talented. It’s really more of a vanity project for Kevin Smith and Johnny Depp, both trying to launch off their daughter’s acting careers… or is it singing careers? This movie is only about 80 minutes when you chop off the end credits, and there are multiple points during the movie where it stops just to let them sing various songs. In fact, for one number, it’s not just a short minute, it’s the full five minute song, and it would be something completely different if they were worthwhile singers. Spoiler alert, they’re not.
Even the band Styx doesn’t escape Yoga Hosers unscathed, which was not something I expected to be writing down here.
There is truly nothing worse than a comedy that isn’t funny, and that is exactly what this is. I honestly don’t blame these girls, I blame their fathers. It is almost like Kevin Smith has smoked so much that it has reached the point where he has forgotten how to tell a joke. It’s the same lame Canada jokes over and over again, and there is as much “aboots” and “ehs” as you could probably imagine. There are cameos that just make you sad more than anything, because greats like Stan Lee or Kevin Conroy aren’t even given anything clever to do, or given any punch lines to deliver, they just walk on to the set and leave just as quickly. This movie also has this irking feature where everybody gets their own introduction title card; it was tolerable when it happens once, but it is going for the entirety of the first act with the same music scoring it, and on top of that, it moves too fast for you to even read it. This is the front runner for my worst movie for the year, and when you’re beating out Adam Sandler, that is saying something.
Yoga Hosers (2016) 1/2
– Critic for Hire