Aside from a set of balls bigger than either Farrelly Brother’s head, Smith’s greater strengths lie in his writing. While there are plenty of competent directors working out there, there are way too few writers with Smith’s ear for character, the well-turned phrase, the meaningful soliloquy, and the laugh-your-ass-off throwaway line, often all packed within the same scene. He has been criticized for stopping his storytelling cold so that his characters can make Kevin Smith speeches, which is like slamming Quentin Tarantino for using all those noisy gunshots. Smith is one of the few popular filmmakers, industry or indie, who writes screenplays because he has something to say. He has matured professionally since Clerks (which he has called overpraised, and I agree). Since Chasing Amy he has demonstrated that he’s not afraid to use his films to explore outré ideas — silly, salacious, or somber — and invite you into his dorm room for brews, a bong hit, and 2 AM discourse about male-female relationships or the nature of God or whether angels have genitals. Then someone farts and the conversation takes another turn.