American Splendor vs Ghost World

American Splendor is, I think, one of the best comic book movies. It’s funny, moving, dramatic, sarcastic, weird, ugly, sweet and sad. It’s part live action drama, part animation, part living comic book, and part documentary. American Splendor brings to life the comic book of the same name, about the life of lowly file clerk Harvey Pekar, who also happens to be a file clerk, and writes a comic called American Splendor. Oh, and he’s a real guy, and he really was a file clerk, and really writes a comic called American Splendor. Actual panels from the comic appear in the movie, some animated, and others live action, with Paul Giamatti as Harvey. Other scenes are filmed documentary-style, with interviews with the actual Harvey Pekar. Still with me?

In the opening scene of American Splendor, it’s Halloween, and all the kids in the neighborhood are dressed as comic book heroes. All the kids, that is, except Harvey Pekar, who is just dressed as himself. When questioned about this fact, he whines “why is everybody so stupid?” throws down his bag, and stomps away. That this kid would grow up to be a Cleveland file clerk is no big surprise. It might seem surprising that he’d find success as a comic book writer, but when you learn that his most successful work was called Our Cancer Year, you’ll think “yeah, sounds about right.”

As an adult, Harvey is a wreck. He’s out of shape, lives in a terrible apartment (a couple times it actually made me gasp. If you could see how messy I keep, say, my bedroom or my computer desk, you’d understand the power of this statement.) Harvey is depressed to a near unbearable extent. He’s unhappy with work and has no social life to speak of. The only enjoyment I recall him getting was from his constant consumption of orange soda.

Shopping at a rummage sale for vinyl records (his collection is so huge his shelves are bowed in the middle), Harvey hears about Robert Crumb.  Soon, the two meet, and Harvey begins to think maybe the drudgery and ugliness of his life could be vented onto the pages of a comic book. The only problem is that he can’t draw. At all. His stories though, are plucked right from life (an early work focuses on the dangers of picking the shortest line at the grocery store. If it’s the shortest, Harvey reasons, how come no one else wants to be there?), and have a richness to them missing from the pulp works available in the mainstream. He shows them to Crumb, who agrees to be his illustrator. Soon, Harvey is somewhat of an underground sensation, his alternative comic a hit with the disenfranchised as well as the comic geek. Harvey plugs away at work though. After all, American Splendor isn’t making him rich, and besides, work is where he found most of his inspiration to write in the first place.

One of Harvey’s fans is Joyce (Hope Davis), a comic book store employee in Delaware. One month she misses an issue, and writes Harvey an odd fan letter. She basically implies that he owes her a free copy since she’s gonna bother to read the darn thing. Joyce’s world view is not much more upbeat than Harvey’s, but she’s compassionate and driven. After a while, they’re pen pals, and Harvey wants to meet. Joyce assumes, justifiably, that Harvey might not be worth meeting, but eventually agrees. There’s a great scene, when Joyce enters the train station and sees the various illustrated versions of Harvey waiting for her. The real Harvey tells us early on that different artists draw him different ways, which explains Joyce’s dilemma. Is Harvey the hairy pervert? The lovable schlub? Young Marlon Brando? It turns out, he’s none of the above, but she’s intrigued by the real guy enough to stick around. During dinner, she reveals that she’s as much a wreck as Harvey (she’s a hypochondriac, but one who’s planning her illnesses in advance). Later, even though she’s gotten food poisoning on their first date, Joyce suggests they just cut through all the courtship and get married. So they do.

The relationship between Harvey and Joyce drives the remainder of American Splendor. They see each other through success (multiple trips to Late Night with David Letterman) and sickness (the inspiration for Harvey’s masterpiece mentioned above), and just keep on going. Throughout his comic career, Harvey keeps his job as a file clerk, bonding and sharing his fame with Toby, a classic and self-proclaimed nerd. At first I thought the character was exaggerated and cartoonish, but then we get a documentary scene with the real guy, and I realized how perfect the actor (Judah Friedlander) was for the part. Toby is obsessed with Revenge of the Nerds, White Castle burgers, and gourmet jelly beans. When Harvey reveals that he’s marrying Joyce, Toby’s one concern isn’t that they’re rushing into things, but whether or not Joyce is a nerd.

The performances in American Splendor are dead on. Paul Giamatti is subtle and funny as Harvey. I loved the whistling, wheezing voice he used early in the movie, and the defeated way he carried himself throughout. The scenes of the real Harvey are great too, and make Giamtti’s work seem even stronger. Giamatti doesn’t mimic the real Harvey, and as American Splendor continues, I realized it was because he isn’t playing that Harvey. He’s playing the Harvey from the comics, and at that, he’s perfect. Likewise, Hope Davis is just right as Joyce. This could have been one annoying character, but Davis shows us the wisdom and patience in Joyce, as well as the genuine love she feels for Harvey.

American Splendor was directed by documentary filmmakers Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini. They do a hell of a job. I love the way the animated Harvey Pekar rears his head from time to time and the way actual comic book frames were employed during the live action scenes. There’s an absolutely beautiful moment when Harvey tells of finding other Harvey Pekars in the phone book. He begins his speech standing on the all-white set otherwise reserved for the docu-scenes of the real Harvey, and then as he walks around, snow begins to fall and a city street finds its way under and behind him. One simple moment, illustrating how close art and reality can be, if we just grab a pencil and tell our stories. American Splendor is a great movie.

Before you see American Splendor, you might prep yourself by watching another comic-based movie, another tale of unlikely couples and bad attitudes: Ghost World.

Ghost World is based on the comic by Daniel Clowes, and was directed by Terry Zwigoff. Ghost World, the comic, is quite similar to American Splendor, in that it portrays life much as it is: the ugly and angry getting top billing. Though Ghost World (the comic and the movie) is fiction, it obviously has basis in reality, and contains characters full of sad wit. The tag line on the poster is, appropriately, “Accentuate the Negative.”

Enid (Thora Birch) and Rebecca (Scarlett Johansson) recently graduated from high school, and besides a soon-to-be-shared apartment, have no plans whatsoever for their futures. They’re sardonic, smart, and superior to virtually everyone they meet. They’re total lunch-box-as-purse types. Enid is the more dominant, and meaner, of the two, setting up the social rules they follow.  She lives with her father, and takes the most pleasure in the things that supply the most irony. At one point she and Rebecca attend a graduation party, which Enid categorizes as being “so bad it’s gone past good and back to bad again.” I think I love her. And hate her.

Unfortunately, Enid and Rebecca aren’t all talk. They zero in on Seymour (played by Steve Buscemi), a lonely collector of vintage albums and advertising, and set up a date based on a personal ad. They show up to watch him squirm over being stood up, and something happens: Enid actually begins to feel. She starts placing herself in situations where she knows she’ll run into Seymour, and strikes up a friendship. They bond over records and their shared terrible attitudes. Seymour’s possibly more pathetic than Enid. She wants to fix him up, but he doesn’t want anyone like him. “I hate my interests,” he says. Eventually, they arrive at something resembling a relationship, although Seymour’s too fragile and jaded and Enid’s too innocent (though she’d never admit it) to appreciate or understand what they have.

Ghost World is a carefully constructed movie. The writing and performances are all smart and funny. As Enid, Thora Birch is somehow able to create sympathy out of thin air. There’s a sadness to her that comes through in unexpected moments, and she has great comic timing. Scarlet Johanssen has a tough role, in that we have to believe that she would want to hang out with Enid. Rebecca is sort of the straight man in the relationship, and Johanssen plays into that, giving us the idea that Enid and Rebecca aren’t so much kindred spirits as they are just an audience for each other. Johanssen has that quiet, thick voice that’s great for one-liners, though not so much in the more emotional moments. Speak up, dude. Steve Buscemi, damn it, is the best Steve Buscemi he can be as Seymour. It’s one of the most graceful, intelligent performances of his career. If I didn’t already have the image of Paul Giamatti in the role, I’d probably think Buscemi would be perfect for American Splendor. Regardless, he’s perfect for Ghost World.

Enid and Rebecca, with their monotone sarcasm and kitschy taste, probably don’t have long as friends. At the end of the movie, it’s hard to tell just how long they might have as friends, or even how long they might have, period. One thing’s for sure, though: Enid and Rebecca would love American Splendor. It’s just the sort of well-organized anarchy they live for. They try any of their crap with Harvey, though, and they’re gonna have to answer to me.

American Splendor: A

Ghost World: A-