Ben is back on track thanks to luscious Liv

Like nosy bystanders at the scene of an accident or an annoying poltergeist who really should be heading into the light, Jersey Girl is all about moving on. Just not in any of those ways and not only in terms of what you see on screen. Behind the scenes, too, this sweet and funny drama signifies a big step for director Kevin Smith and his loyal leading man Ben Affleck.

For Smith this movie represents his intention to break away from the wacky, geeky stoner world he created for Clerks and stuck with right through to his last movie, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. Fantasy is out; movie and comic book trivia, seriously curtailed.

With 10 years as a filmmaker under his ample belt, Kevin Smith is ready for depth and emotion: something with a bit more heart. That doesn’t man he’s getting all mushy on us – far from it. There are still plenty of jokes and fan-boy references to Star Wars and the like. It’s just that, for Jersey Girl, he finally created characters we not only like but actually care about too.

For Affleck the film marks his return to the land of the living after the tiresome exposure of his romance with Jennifer Lopez. It was Smith who introduced the two, Smith who set them on the path that led to Gigli and heartbreak, and now Smith who gives his old mate the opportunity to spread himself as an actor and return to the public’s good graces. There’s no avoiding the fact that Lopez is in the movie but, the good news is, she dies 10 minutes in and, from that moment on you can begin the pleasant business of forgetting all about her.

Jersey Girl opens with hotshot music publicist Ollie (Affleck) wining, dining, marrying and impregnating the girl of his dreams (Lopez). The fairy tale ends there when she dies in childbirth, leaving Ollie alone with a beautiful baby girl he has no idea how to care for.

Within a month the pressures of his upturned life see Ollie fired from his dream job and forced to move away from Manhattan to live with his dad (George Carlin) in an underwhelming suburb of New Jersey. Seven years later he’s stuck in a rut, madly in love with precocious daughter Gertie (Raquel Castro), but still grieving for his wife and trapped in a menial job, obsessed with returning to the Big Apple and his former lifestyle. Though everything he needs to be happy is easily reach in New Jersey, Ollie is unable to let go of his past and unwilling to adapt to his circumstances – not even when he begins the most tenuous of romances with the beautiful, smart, quirky girl (Liv Tyler) who works in his local video store. Slowly they come together, though nothing is certain and everything important remains unsaid. What they do say is cool and casual. But if you look into their eyes, you can see so much more. Important as it is, the romance angle remains secondary to Ollie’s relationship with his cute-as-a-button daughter and boozly-gruff yet wise and disarming father.

An emotional yet unsentimental story that deals with real-life stuff in a very natural way, Jersey Girl is close in style to Chasing Amy, only much more grown up, more involving and ultimately satisfying. Though Affleck gives it his all and is never less than credible, his co-stars regularly steal his thunder. Beloved in the States, potty-mouthed comedian stand-up comic George Carlin does an amazing job with an uncharacteristically complex role. As Gertie newcomer Raquel Castro is so adorable you’ll want to snatch her off the screen and raise her yourself. But it’s luscious Liv Tyler who does the best work – her timing, sensitivity, beauty and all round fearless as an actress combining to consolidate her place on the Hollywood A-list.

This is romance and relationship comedy-drama as only Kevin Smith can do, cleverly understated with lots of big laughs and a genuine affection for it’s characters and their lives. The icing on the cake is that this movie is as accessible for men as it is for women, making it probably the perfect date movie of the year…. 4/5

Q: What about the films you directed?

James Franco: I’ve directed two small budget films this year. One is called The Ape and one is called Fool’s Gold. That’s just kind of been for fun. They’re based on plays I wrote with a partner and I used people from the theater group that were in the play. The nice thing about these two is I financed them and there’s really no pressure to succeed. I don’t need it. I can support myself on the acting and I don’t need this to break in or anything.

Q: Will you take them to festivals?

James Franco: I think so, yeah. But they’re mine, so one is in the editing stage and it’s pretty good. I think we can take it to festivals, The Ape. And then we just wrapped the other one a week ago. If if I don’t like it, I can just shelve them.

Q: Are you acting in them as well?

James Franco: Yeah, yeah.

Q: Is that daunting?

James Franco: No, actually, I was very relaxed. I had a great DP, Dave Klein, he worked on all the early Kevin Smith films, and the editor, Scott Mosier, worked on all the Kevin Smith films and produced them. They’re very experienced guys and I could depend on them. I guess I found it was kind of a way to direct. If I was in the scene with the people, I could kind of direct them by acting with them in a way. So it was a very relaxed set.

Don’t believe the anti-hype. Early reports promised that Jersey Girl (12A cert, 102 min), billed as a domestic comedy, would be a disaster movie of apocalyptic proportions. Not only did it star Ben Affleck, one of the most maligned actors of his generation, but also his ex, Jennifer Lopez – a pair whose last film together, Gigli, was laughed off screens faster than you could say “turkey”.

What’s more, it was to be directed by Kevin Smith, better known for foul-mouthed, lo-fi gems such as Clerks and Chasing Amy. Why, people asked, was indie cinema’s funniest director going all sappy and suburban?

Well, Jersey Girl is finally here and the doomsayers have been proved wrong. It isn’t edgy. It doesn’t aspire towards hipster cool. But one person’s sappiness is another person’s sweet. This is a kind, likeable film that, unlike Smith’s previous pictures, can be watched by both adults and children, preferably together.

Affleck plays Ollie Trinke, a successful Manhattan music PR who lives his glitzy, gladhanding life to the full. Bigging up and selling talentless corporate no-marks is what he does best. He marries a book editor (Lopez), who dies shortly afterwards during childbirth. He tries to carry on his job at full tilt, but gets fired after a press conference in which he bawls out the assembled hacks for believing that his client, Will Smith, could possibly make the transition from acting to world-famous rapper.

Seven years, and seven summertimes later, Ollie is back in his New Jersey hometown, living with his pop (George Carlin), bringing up daughter Gertie (Raquel Castro), and reduced to sweeping streets and ploughing snow. In what little spare time he has, he rents porn tapes from the local video store, whose check-out girl Maya (Liv Tyler) takes a shine to him. She urges him, though he ignores her at first, not to keep hankering after the Big Apple.

Life in the suburbs has always been a staple theme in Smith’s films. And, it turns out, Jersey Girl is not as different from his previous pictures as has been claimed. Old pals such as Matt Damon and Jason Lee turn in neat cameos.

Though less lengthily or crudely expressed, there are poo and porn gags aplenty. There’s also a real feel for small-town lives, revealed most fondly in the banter and interplay between Ollie and his older work colleagues.

Smith is upfront this time about the sentimentality that has always underpinned his movies. The guys in them were sordid, sarky, gutter-obsessives. But this vulgarity was partly a front. Below it, or at least alongside it, was a vulnerability all the more affecting for being held in check.

Affleck, wasted in no-brainer action pix such as Paycheck and Daredevil, is excellent here, probably because he’s allowed to be needy, bereft, confused – emotions most directors never require him to display. Liv Tyler lights up the screen like Chinese fireworks on a summer’s night.

Accept this film for what it is, and the sincerity that underpins it, and you’ll most likely have a good time.

Silent Bob’s quiet night out

Inspired by the birth of his daughter, Kevin Smith’s new film makes up for what it lacks in vulgarity and caustic humour with a personal warmth. He makes his excuses to Steve Rose

Saturday June 19, 2004 – The Guardian

Kevin Smith has not had a nice time in Europe. The man Peter Biskind lately described as “the George Lucas of the self-abuse set” has just spent the weekend with his wife and daughter in Paris, where a dodgy steak tartare brought on three days of vomiting and chronic diarrhoea. The week before, the Sun described the London opening of his new movie, Jersey Girl, as “the worst British premiere ever”. None of the film’s stars showed up – Ben Affleck pleaded bronchitis, Liv Tyler was AWOL and Jennifer Lopez, it turns out, was secretly getting married. Nor was the red carpet sullied by so much as a minor soap star or a Britpop has-been. Even Jade had other commitments. To cap it all, the 3am Girls described him as being “fat, bearded and hobbit-like”.

Hobbit-like is harsh, but nor is Smith a cuddly clown like Silent Bob. He’s more laidback, and speaks in a dry, articulate drawl, liberally punctuated with the adjective “fuckin’”. Lounging in a Dorchester suite, preparing to go and talk to his London fans, he looks like the world’s best-groomed slacker. “The dude got fuckin’ sick,” he says of Affleck. “What are you supposed to do?”

He knows the real problem is not the premiere, or the steak tartare, but the fact that his movie got sucked into the all-consuming celebrity saga known as Bennifer. There’s little any director could have done against what’s been the media equivalent of the Perfect Storm, which is a shame, because Jersey Girl is quite a turning point for Smith. It’s no masterpiece, but it’s more personal and heartfelt than anything he’s done before. There’s no Jay and Silent Bob, the Cheech and Chong-like wasters Smith and his buddy Jason Mewes played in his previous five movies. Instead we get Affleck coping with the death of his wife and the responsibilities of single parenthood. In Jersey. Which means no discussions of private contractors on the Death Star, no barely sublimated homosexuality, and definitely no “snootchie bootchies!” He’s not going all mainstream on us is he?

“No, I never want to become John Hughes where suddenly I stop making Pretty In Pink and start making, like, Curly Sue and Home Alone. I figure the next time I make a movie about being a father will be when my kid is, like, pounding tons of drugs and having sex and she’ll be like, ‘I hate you dad!’ And I’ll be, like, ‘I hate you Jersey Girl!’”

It was Affleck’s idea to cast J-Lo. This was at a time when nobody, Smith included, had any idea they were an item, and their recently wrapped Gigli was being touted as a contender for Golden Globes rather than Razzies. “There were some people who were like, ‘If they’re dating, dude you’re in trouble.’ I don’t believe in that kind of thing. But I still feel to this day that the work was stronger because of their relationship.” The first hint Smith got that there might be a problem was after a test screening early last year. When asked, ‘How would you recommend the film?’ one focus group member replied, “I’d tell my friends to go see this movie because J-Lo dies.” Then Gigli came out, which was “like throwing fuckin’ fuel on the fire. Nuclear-reinforced fuel that sent up not just flames but a toxic fuckin’ cloud as well, that then attached itself to our movie.”

Less charitable observers would say Smith got what he deserved for trying to play the Hollywood A-list. Let’s not forget he was one of the most genuine amateurs ever to break into movies. His debut, Clerks, was shot with $28,000 of credit card loans, with his friends as the cast, in the convenience store where he worked. Despite his undeniable talent for dialogue, a lot of people predicted he wouldn’t last long. But for all the professional snobbery, condescending reviews and even death threats, he’s still here 10 years later, and his self-created universe is still expanding. His movies do well – Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back took $30m in US theatres and another $36m in DVD sales. His characters have featured in comics, music videos, TV cartoons, video games, even as action figures. He also has a sideline writing for comics like Daredevil and Spider-Man. Added to which, he’s become a seasoned public speaker, touring US colleges doing Q&A sessions – which have been so successful, they’ve put together a DVD of them.

So life has gotten better, but it’s also gotten heavier. His “heterosexual life partner” Jason Mewes has been recovering from addiction to heroin, with Smith’s support. There’s an eerie moment on the DVD of his live show where Smith brings Mewes on stage at a packed campus auditorium and proceeds to talk about the crazy stuff Mewes does as if he’s not there. Mewes himself, looking strung-out and androgynous, sits there in mute acquiescence. It’s Bob and Silent Jay.

The live show at least ends his European expedition on something of a high. Smith lists talking to his fans as the third favourite part of his job, after writing and editing (directing is “a necessary evil”), and when he takes the stage it’s clear to see why. The self-abuse set loves him. Smith is one of them, with the same nerdy, pop-cultural, preoccupations. There’s a lot more A than Q. He gets his own back on the 3am Girl (”If I’m a hobbit this fuckin’ bitch is an orc!”). He’s upfront about Mewes’ heroin addiction and his rehabilitation. He’s been clean for over a year now, and is currently raising Red Bull-fuelled hell in LA with Jack Osbourne – they call themselves “Project Falcon”. He talks about sharing Harvey Weinstein’s private jet, and he professes his ignorance of British history and geography (”there’s really a place called Crystal Palace? How gay is that?”). More than anything, he makes fun of himself, even confessing how, as a plump teenager, he used to impress his girlfriend by dressing in a long black leather coat and a Batman T-shirt, hanging out mysteriously on the roof of the local pharmacy.

Four and a half hours later, Smith is ready to go home. Which might be a little difficult since home is a four-storey pad in the Hollywood hills that used to belong to a certain Ben Affleck. This doesn’t mean he’s “gone Hollywood”, he insists. All it means is that his wife, former USA Today journalist Jennifer Schwalbach, is more of an LA woman than a Jersey girl, and she calls the shots. By way of confirmation, he’s wearing a sports shirt embroidered with the words “Jennifer’s bitch”.

If anything, Smith is moving further away from Hollywood. His next project was supposed to be a big-budget version of cult series The Green Hornet, but he now says he’d rather just write it and let someone else direct. “I didn’t get into this business to make comic-book movies or big action movies. I got into this business to make movies like Clerks. That’s all I wanted to do.” So instead, he’s got a small ($250,000) project starting in October. No clues as to the story though, “let’s just say I won’t need Affleck for this”. Could he afford Affleck for this? He cracks into a smirk. “Oh I think Ben could be pretty cheap right now.”

· Jersey Girl is out now. An Evening With Kevin Smith is out on DVD on Monday (£19.99, Columbia TriStar)

Don’t believe the anti-hype. Early reports promised that Jersey Girl (12A cert, 102 min), billed as a domestic comedy, would be a disaster movie of apocalyptic proportions. Not only did it star Ben Affleck, one of the most maligned actors of his generation, but also his ex, Jennifer Lopez – a pair whose last film together, Gigli, was laughed off screens faster than you could say “turkey”.

What’s more, it was to be directed by Kevin Smith, better known for foul-mouthed, lo-fi gems such as Clerks and Chasing Amy Why, people asked, was indie cinema’s funniest director going all sappy and suburban?

Well, Jersey Girl is finally here and the doomsayers have been proved wrong. It isn’t edgy. It doesn’t aspire towards hipster cool. But one person’s sappiness is another person’s sweet. This is a kind, likeable film that, unlike Smith’s previous pictures, can be watched by both adults and children, preferably together.

Affleck plays Ollie Trinke, a successful Manhattan music PR who lives his glitzy, gladhanding life to the full. Bigging up and selling talentless corporate no-marks is what he does best. He marries a book editor (Lopez), who dies shortly afterwards during childbirth. He tries to carry on his job at full tilt, but gets fired after a press conference in which he bawls out the assembled hacks for believing that his client, Will Smith, could possibly make the transition from acting to world-famous rapper.

Seven years, and seven summertimes later, Ollie is back in his New Jersey hometown, living with his pop (George Carlin), bringing up daughter Gertie (Raquel Castro), and reduced to sweeping streets and ploughing snow. In what little spare time he has, he rents porn tapes from the local video store, whose check-out girl Maya (Liv Tyler) takes a shine to him. She urges him, though he ignores her at first, not to keep hankering after the Big Apple.

Life in the suburbs has always been a staple theme in Smith’s films. And, it turns out, Jersey Girl is not as different from his previous pictures as has been claimed. Old pals such as Matt Damon and Jason Lee turn in neat cameos.

Though less lengthily or crudely expressed, there are poo and porn gags aplenty. There’s also a real feel for small-town lives, revealed most fondly in the banter and interplay between Ollie and his older work colleagues.

Smith is upfront this time about the sentimentality that has always underpinned his movies. The guys in them were sordid, sarky, gutter-obsessives. But this vulgarity was partly a front. Below it, or at least alongside it, was a vulnerability all the more affecting for being held in check.

Affleck, wasted in no-brainer action pix such as Paycheck and Daredevil, is excellent here, probably because he’s allowed to be needy, bereft, confused – emotions most directors never require him to display. Liv Tyler lights up the screen like Chinese fireworks on a summer’s night.

Accept this film for what it is, and the sincerity that underpins it, and you’ll most likely have a good time.

“Kon Artis writes an e-mail to a listener, threatening to “Silent Bob and Jay yo’ ass.”

The Great Church is all the people who call themselves Catholic. The Cardinal Georges and the Sen. John Kerrys. The Antonin Scalias and the Kevin Smiths. The Mother Teresas and the Madonna Ciccones. Those who go to daily mass and the “Cheasters” who are lucky to make it for Christmas and Easter. And everyone in between.

“I was watching GMTV whilst getting ready this morning and they had Ben Affleck on. He was being interviewed by one of the women over a satellite link, mainly
about Jersey Girl but she insisted on going into other stuff. Ben was pretty good about it, although you could tell he didn’t really want to talk
about it. He was in some studio with a fake backdrop of a Hollywood street behind him and the woman mentions it and says something like
‘Oh, you’re used to hanging around on street corners, according to the press – gambling, drinking, smoking?’ Ben says ‘Yeah, PROSTITUTION!’ Funniest thing I’ve seen on morning TV for ages!”

So all this week, I’ve been working on Public Service Announcements (aka commercials) for this organization called Declare Yourself. It’s a non-partisan group founded by Norman Lear (the man who responsible for “All in the Family”, “Maude”, “Good Times”, “The Jeffersons” and so many other legendary tv shows) that, like “Rock the Vote” encourages people to register and be heard. Declare Yourself and Comedy Central have teamed up to produce a series of ads that are so simple even I could direct them. So that’s what I did.

The concept is, essentially, “In the time it’s taken you to watch this, you could’ve been online, finding out how to register to vote.” Those helping us convey this message have been Zach Braff, Ray Romano, Adam Brody, Wanda Sykes, Larry David, Jeff Garlin, and Sarah Silverman. Today, we shoot Ben Affleck, Eliza Dushku, and a pair of stoners who’re coming out of semi-retirement for the cause. Then, I fly to NYC and shoot Amy Poehler, Chris Rock, Chris Walken and David Cross.

They start airing in July. Pretty funny stuff. Keep an eye out for ‘em.

A variety of music artists, TV and film stars, athletes, journalists and other celebs come together to dish the dot com decade, including Missy
Elliott, John Mayer, Kyan Douglas, Coolio, Jason Mraz, Rachel Bilson, Lacey Chabert, Blair Underwood, Jerry Springer, Usher, Venus Williams, Trey Parker,
KEVIN SMITH, Bob Guiney, Maroon 5, Warren Moon, Dominic Monaghan, Peri Gilpin, Shelley Morrison and Sarah McLachlan. There are also interviews with such
’90s survivors as Jordan Knight, Kato Kaelin, Lance Bass, Jaleel White, Ian Ziering, Susan Powter, Sir Mix-A-Lot, Wilson Phillips, Joe E. Tata, Wilson Phillips, Spin Doctors and Gabrielle Carteris.