The concept of a “Bratzi” – rhetoric spewing, miniature gremlins made of German sauerkraut – connects with the Kevin Smith pantheon. He’s transitioned from political crazies in Red State to human walruses in Tusk. Low-grade bratwurst Nazis seem sensible as a continuation.

Bratzis though step aside for a direct satire of teenage life, locked in on two kids fending off rude school administrators, their boss, parents, and work life (Smith’s favorite: the convenience store). Bratzis play a swift part before Yoga Hosers turns personal, Smith using the Nazi angle to snap at his critics, speaking through the screen after a lumbering hour of choppy narrative.

Sitting through Yoga Hosers is equivalent to watching an extended, jokey Canadian internet meme, filled with a plethora of “aboots” and milk-in-a-bag gags. The kids – Smith’s own daughter Harley and Johnny Depp’s Lily-Rose Depp – land the eye-rolling teen roles, even if their status as real world friends tends to seep in. Yoga Hosers feels like a self-referential weekend outing for the two.

Come time for Bratzi’s, Yoga Hosers begins to fall apart, and the script never connects to the idea

Yoga Hosers’ battle is with itself, tugging and pulling on lore (connected partially to Tusk), high school problems, and a staid, low-grade/high-enthusiasm indie style which Smith mastered as his own. Come time for Bratzi’s, Yoga Hosers begins to fall apart, and the script never connects to the idea. Sensible as it is for Nazi’s to silence their critics, it’s a late addition to the crowded, rambling narrative. It’s not about Nazi policies either, rather Smith’s own lashing out, oblivious to the Nazi spectrum entirely.

To appreciate Yoga Hosers is to acknowledge the (sadly) unorthodox buddy pairing of two teen girls, ample heroines for the social media generation. Their plight is exaggerated for effect before the duo turn into rampaging hockey pros and Nazi thrashing superstars. It’s all great to witness in part, at least when Yoga Hosers isn’t turned hard into exposition or giving Johnny Depp an exhausting amount of screen time as the useless Guy Lapointe.

Lapointe’s summarizes Yoga Hosers, the character in the hunt for the right movie much as Yoga Hosers hunts for its jokes. Gag choice seems plucked from a hat, ill-fitting scene-to-scene in a Hollywood family affair which ironically, needed a critic or two in the background to fit Yoga Hosers together.


In the year 2017, a decade after being ruled irrelevant, Yoga Hosers resurrects the dormant MPEG-2 codec for appalling results. While rich, saturated colors usually are an asset, here they pull out a wealth of artifacting, enough to double check if the Blu-ray or included DVD is inside the player. Reds bleed from the chunky compression, and tremendous levels of noise live in the background.

Whether mastering or source resolution, aliasing hits every scene. Lines break up anytime on screen. On name tags, on cup designs, on background products, on clothes; no angled line goes untouched. A tiled roof looks as if it’s sparkling while the camera pans. The overall effect makes Yoga Hosers appear is if viewed on low-grade cable.

A genuine lack of basic fidelity and fine detail ruins the visual appeal. Yoga Hosers survives on color and contrast, a supremely bright presentation with superlative black levels. Thankfully, those black levels then hide some of the compression process, if not enough to appease even the lightly knowledgeable A/V enthusiast.


With the audio, welcome again to 2007 with a 5.1 Dolby Digital mix barely reaching out from the center. A few musical/concert scenes extend strongly into the low-end. The finale, with a sizable golem, hits with force too. Each footstep makes use of the subwoofer.

If the stereos or surrounds find use, it’s so minor as to be unnoticeable. Even when dealing with a store full of Bratzi’s, imaging is lost. The center channel works overtime to process each bit of audio.


A short (7:26) untitled featurette spreads a few interviews around and brief behind-the-scenes clips.

Full disclosure: This Blu-ray was provided to us for review. This has not affected the editorial process. For information on how we handle review material, please visit our about us page to learn more.

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Kevin Smith snaps at his critics in Yoga Hosers, but the end product misses its potential as it travels through a disconnected narrative.

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