 American Splendor (2003) American Splendor takes the amazingly bold approach of doing all three of these things, seamlessly and simultaneously. Fictionalized scenes with actors are intercut with interview footage with the real Pekar and his cronies, and juxtaposed with animated elements, to the point where sometimes the movie Pekar (Paul Giamatti) will walk offscreen, and the camera will pan over to the real Pekar on a video monitor, from archival footage of his appearances on David Letterman's show. The juggling-act probably shouldn't work at all, but it's so totally fearless and confident that what emerges is a testament to Pekar's life and art that is a good deal better than both. Though the movie certainly owes its opportunity to the success of Crumb (which was a great film mostly because it had a great subject), it does so much with the opportunity as to not only convert you to American Splendor fandom, but to renew your passion for movies in general. Though I've enjoyed the comic from time to time, it has always struck me as the sort of book that Time or NPR would single out for excellence … it's got a dependable slice-of-life artistry to it that intellectuals can accept as literature. Where the film really succeeds is in its beautiful depiction of comics as personal expression. Whether you like Pekar himself, or his comic, or both, or neither, you come away with a wonderful appreciation for comics. It's a hard validation to offer, since so many people still believe comics to be an immature art form. The accomplishment is made by introducing you to Pekar and his weird world, which is as familiarly weird as your own. Frustrated with the stasis of running failure that characterizes everything he does, Pekar turns his outsider status into a new sort of superhero – something like File Clerk Man, whose superpower is pure bitterness. Giamatti is at the top of his game as Pekar … no one else could have given such a spot-on impression with anything like Giamatti's nuance. Hope Davis is also outstanding as Joyce Brabner, Pekar's wife and collaborator. And the film is smooth enough to prove its performers are brilliant, because it isn't afraid to show you the real Pekar and Brabner almost as frequently. It's a dazzling achievement, full of the sort of genuine quirkiness that can't be faked. Directors Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini brilliantly evoke not only American Splendor, but its context as well, and even its metacontext. In one notably mind-bending scene, we see Giamatti and Davis as Pekar and Brabney watching Donal Logue and Molly Shannon play yet a third set of leads, in a Hollywood stage production of Splendor. It's a delight on every level – sweet, honest, odd, inspiring, and supremely crafty. Sure, it's sent a steady stream of nervous-looking NPR-types into my local comics shop, which is as comfortable as running into your high school guidance counselor at your favorite porn shop … but I guess the ultimate result is a less shameful feeling about being there. As the world grows more close-knit and all our long-standing Berlin Walls crumble to the ground, it's a hopeful thought that we all might commune over comics and porn.
Review by La Fée |