First of all, I freely admit that when it comes to m/m slash I tend to be more about the personality than the physicality. It's why I sometimes fall down and go boom on the visual side of things, and focus more (sometimes awfully so) on the dialogue. That's not to say I don't think they're pretty, and even more pretty together, because dear me, they are!
Part of the attraction, for me at least, is the peripheral nature of the characters. Because as central to the universe as they are now, they began as fringe dwellers and grew from there once they'd gained audience attention/affection/adoration, and that's something that happens rarely (if ever) in other fandoms I've been involved with. If anything, characters that become fannishly popular tend to have their roles decreased or taken away altogether, or worse yet devalued, which is annoying as hell.
Methos will never get his own show. We'll never see a real exploration of Blair Sandburg as anthropologist/teacher/shaman/Guide. John Munch is a shadow of his former self and Severus Snape (much as I'd like to hope otherwise) will always be a bitter, greasy git as seen through the eyes of a pre-adolescent boy.
But Jay and Silent Bob went from a couple of incidental characters in a black and white movie about shopkeepers, to having their own movie. A movie about them, and their adventures with each other, and it makes my fangirl heart go all pitter-pat whenever I think about it.
But that's taken things out way too far, when I was meaning to focus on Bob and Jay as a pairing rather than a fannish triumph. So, Jay and Silent Bob. Why these guys?
I like the contrasts, and I like the way their strengths and vulnerabilities complement each other, and I love the mutual protectiveness inherent in their relationship. More than anything else, I love the sheer easy comfort of the way they are together, like they've known each other all their lives (and I guess canonically they have), and they know each other's faults and foibles, and still love each other in spite (or because) of them.
I like the implied edginess that doesn't really get explored in the canon,
but has been analysed and written about a lot in fan writing. I lived the 'drug
lifestyle' myself for quite a few years, I still have friends who live that
life, and I know a disturbing number of people who've ended up in gaol for dealing
(after having made an
obscene amount of money, I might add!). I've also seen (and experienced) the
more negative effects of that lifestyle, both as a health care worker and a
health care workee, as well as working at a seedy hotel in the Cross for a bit
(and anyone living in Sydney is nodding knowingly right about now).
That's my favourite part of this fandom, I think; the unexplored grit beneath the surface, even more than the sweeter sides. Or, maybe more truthfully, I love the sweetness amongst all the dirt and smoke and seediness. It makes things sweeter that, in a culture where selfishness is a hell of a virtue, these two survivor-types can form such a bond of trust.
Of course, that's veering way into fanon, since Smith tends to focus on the lighter side of things. If I can be ego!ren for just a moment I'd have to say I like the possibilities in this fandom from light and quirky to dark and awful: from Tinfoil and Toothpaste right through to Dirt, as 'twere. [/ego!ren]
Who is Jay?
Jay is who first dragged me into JSB fandom. I'd been a fan before, I think, mostly due to Mallrats, but it was Jay's "What the fuck?" rant towards the end of Dogma that really buzzed my fan-o-metre. The hysteria of it, and the bewildered profanity and the "Okay that's enough, I'm tired and scared and I'm throwing a tantrum" vibe of the scene made me sit up and go 'squee!' This was disturbing, since at the time I'd never heard anyone make that sound before, let alone myself. Luckily, I got over it.
My Jay is hyperactive and twitchy and fiercely devoted to his Bob, protective and sweet and fucked up and young and old, sometimes startlingly insightful but often missing the point completely. He is bitter and eloquent. He bites his nails and smokes too much. He has abandonment issues, and he's a brat. He's selfish and insecure and not terribly bright in the traditional sense, but he has a shrewdness born of experience and a head for business. He doesn't like to be alone.
Who is Silent Bob?
Silent Bob is the one who sold me on the slashy relationship between the two. Despite all the innuendo (and out-uendo) on the Jay side of things, it was the rise-up-and-protect-Jay on the train in Dogma, and even more than that the speculative look outside Mooby's, that made me think "Hey, hang on. There's something going on here..." Of course then I went back and looked at everything through slash goggles, and it was obvious as the nose on my face.
My Silent Bob is a study in contradictions. He's strong with a side of vulnerability. He has the potential for great violence and terrible gentleness. He thinks a lot, and he loves Jay, and he is protective to the point where he'd be willing to kill. He's down to earth and at the same time very sentimental. A bit of a sappy romantic, is my Bob. He has a wonderfully dry sense of humour, and a lovely ignorance of his own appeal, and he'll put up with Jay's shit, but only to a certain extent, then he either reins his boy in or takes off for a while. I think I'd like to see a story where Bob has enough, has too much, and just snaps and belts Jay a good one.
Where does Justice fit in, or does she?
I honestly don't think she does. She was an aberration in canon, which until
that point had portrayed Jay and Silent Bob as exclusively devoted to each other.
I'm not even talking romantically, here. Even as a strictly heterosexual relationship,
Jay and Silent Bob are as couple as couple gets, to the point of complete
physical comfort with each other and the ability to communicate non-verbally.
And that's canon. Quite frankly, I think being the girlfriend of either
one of them would be a logistical nightmare, and you'd spend the whole time
feeling like a third wheel. Consequently, the Justice thing came off as forced
and awkward, and until now I haven't really bothered to give it all that much
thought. She's a plot device - a narrative hump (no pun intended). She's a real
peripheral character; the kind that'll never get her own movie, or comic book,
or archive full of stories devoted to her life outside of canon.