Crumb (1994), directed by Terry Zwigoff

The Trailer
and
The Appropriate Tune: "My Girl's Pussy", by Robert Crumb & His Cheap Suit Serenaders

     Despite what my writings on my oft-neglected film blog might imply, I actually do more than watch pro wrestling and movies. I’m more of an all-inclusive nerd, and there are many things that I spend my time on while I waste the precious hours of my life. Books, video games, theater, history, music, hardcore pornopgraphy, and as is most relevant to this article, comic books. I’ve been reading comics/graphic novels since I was 12 or so, and I’ve always been fascinated with it as a medium for creative expression and the bizarre characters brought to life within its pages. Although I wouldn’t put myself on the level of my more serious comic book fan friends, but I feel like I’ve read enough of the things over the years to know what I like and what I don’t on a somewhat critical level. Especially if it’s written by Alan Moore or Grant Morrison, in which case I’ll probably read it regardless of popular opinion.

     Much like the film world has Troma and music has its Velvet Underground, the world of comics has its own alternative and/or underground figures that have changed and revolutionized the field over the years. One of those figures for comics was Mr. Robert Crumb, whose work with Zap and other publications in the late 60s and early 70s helped bring new form of comic art and storytelling to the public consciousness. Highly sexualized, openly confessional, frequently neurotic, Crumb’s LSD-inspired take on American society and the people who lived in it was all the rage in Flower Power centers like Haight-Ashbury and the like. You might know him from the iconic ‘Keep on Truckin’ image that has been repeated on mud flaps and other media over the years, or for the equally iconic cover for Big Brother and the Holding Company’s amazing debut album Cheap Thrills. You might even know him for Fritz the Cat, which was eventually adapted into an animated film directed by Ralph Bakshi, and was the first and only animated film to receive an X-rating (it also kind of sucks, but whatever). There was no superheroes or magical dragons in the comics of R. Crumb, just the sexual fantasies of a compulsive masturbatory visualized with pen and paper. What better subject for a feature-length film could there be than that?

     (Spoilers: Nothing)

     Directed by Terry Zwigoff and produced by surrealist filmmaker David Lynch (Twin Peaks, Eraserhead, a bunch of other stuff that people either obnoxiously love or hate), Crumb details the life and times of the famous artist in the months prior to his move from San Francisco to the south of France in the early 90’s. Through candid interviews of Crumb as well as his friends, family and academics, Zwigoff reveals to us a more intimate portrayal of the man than we are normally privy to, despite the highly autobiographical nature of his art. His loves, his hates, the erratic childhood that drew him into comics and art, all of these things come together to form the image of R. Crumb, as well as the strange and off-kilter people around him. We also get to see some critical reception to his work from colleagues and peers, which range from revelatory to displeased, particularly in regards to Crumb’s notorious views on women and sexual intercourse. Most of those displeased opinions are from women, as you might expect.

     I have to wonder whether it’s the influence of Lynch that causes the strange atmosphere that seems to hang over this movie. Despite being a down-to-earth real life movie, Crumb has a definite Lynchian bent. The nostalgia for an idyllic past comes up is a classic Lynch motif of course, but more generally I mean presenting a positive story through dark and often disturbing means. Hearing the stories of Robert’s brothers Charles and Maxon, one a suicidally depressed wreck who still lives with his mother and the other an epileptic former molester who meditates on a bed of nails for spare change is definitely what you might call a case of life imitating Lynch, and the descriptions of parental abuse are many and varied, but it’s not played as a vehicle for sympathy, just an unfortunate bump in the road that we’re all far past by now. All of this builds up into the weird and bizarre world that has built up around Crumb over the years, which is juxtaposed by the man himself. Although we can see where the basis for his art comes from, Robert Crumb appears in this film as a man who is more or less at peace with himself and his various personality quirks. He’s got nothing to prove and has no desire for it, being perfectly content with the life that he’s carved out for himself through his work. Occasionally he comes off as a bit callous, and certainly unapologetic for those who demand he should be, but I think we all know somebody who comes across the wrong way every once in a while. There’s no malice to it, just how they are as people, for good or for worse. The biggest hurdle for this movie was showing Crumb as a man rather than a saint, as we so often typify other artists, but I believe they cleared it. A ‘you may not agree with him, but you respect his work’ kind of thing, and it’s better than spending 120 minutes blowing smoke up his ass. Which Robert Crumb might actually enjoy, I don’t know. I’m not privy to his sex activities, or sextivities as we ‘in the know’ call it, but I’m sure they get pretty weird. Even weirder than the sextivities that we actually hear about in the movie, which is probably more than any of us really wanted.

     Obviously if you don’t care about Crumb or comic books in general, then you’re probably better off ignoring this movie. If you are interested in those, or underground art movements, or you like seeing movies with weird people in them, then this might be right up your alley. Generally I don’t try doing writeups about documentaries, it just feels weird to me to try and dissect them as I would a fiction film, and the director’s role in said films feel more subtle than the grand artistic statements of their personal worlds. Given the subject matter and my continual return to off-beat films however, I decided to make an exception As far as documentaries go I found that Crumb succeeded in making life seem far more interesting and eloquent than it actually is, and the scenes of pre-Millennium America gave me the bittersweet sense of nostalgia that all the kids these days love so much. The portions of the film where we get a look into his early work and his philosophy on the art of drawing were similarly very informative and frequently engaging as well. I say give Crumb a try and put it in your watch queue, get double your daily dose of info and insanity at the same time. Keep on truckin’ folks!

RESULT: RECOMMENDED