Yoga Hosers

Yoga Hosers isn’t really a movie. It’s a quarter-to-1:00 a.m. SNL sketch, nightmarishly distended into oblivion.

It all seems like something that was hatched during a particularly neuron-impaired free-association game.

To shackle two lovely and promising teenage actresses to material this dreadful could be reasonably construed as an awfully expensive form of child...

Smith seems to have soured to the idea of making films for anyone outside his circle of fans, podcast co-hosts, and family members. Yoga Hosers, th...

If the creators of South Park had made it, Yoga Hosers might have been hysterical.

Even fans who’ve stuck with Smith for two decades may draw the line at this outing.

What makes Smith a dynamic podcaster – his shambolic, off-the-cuff storytelling – is his undoing as a filmmaker.

Yoga Hosers is not the complete abortion of a film it’s reputed to be, but Smith gets in his own way far too often.

At its core, Yoga Hosers isn’t a movie: It’s a podcast riff given material form; a bong rip visualized; an SCTV sketch devoid...

Depp and Smith want to put their kids in a big, expensive home movie? Fine. Do it. But show it at home.

Aims for inspired lunacy but misses the mark by a mile.

Writer-director-comic-book-artist-cult-figure Kevin Smith’s latest exercise in questionable taste goes literally from bad to wurst.

The entire film has the strange feel of watching an elaborately produced home movie to be played at a holiday party rather than a movie theater.