American Splendor's Modern Media

Imagining one's future being confined to filing medical reports in a local veteran's hospital is not discouraging; but disturbing. Furthermore, would one be interested in reading a comic book about such a nightmare? Or even watching a movie? American Splendor adapts to screen the life of a man who walks down the path no one else would dare to tread. Harvey Pekar, born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio, is the creator of the comic and the subject of the film. Far from the Hollywood limelight, Pekar is a "genuine jerk" who "refuses to play it for laughs or sympathy" (Arnold 1). Nevertheless, the working class life he led as a file clerk became the subject of a praised comic and eventually worthy of an adapted screenplay. "American Splendor's
tone never venture[s] too far toward triumph or tragedy: it [holds] steady at sour, fatalistic, and inconclusive-yet somehow affirming" (Edelstein 1). By presenting the film in such a way; free of special effects, explosions, and dramatic car chases, American Splendor reveals an aspect of filmmaking that is rare today in the realm of conventional media; reality. This, in addition to allowing the viewer to observe the life of Pekar in an autobiographical manner by combining documentary footage, animation, cartoons, and double-cast roles, creates a truly unique piece of art very different from any other example of film or TV. In contrast to canned television drama, Pekar's issues are not resolved in thirty minutes. In fact, they are not resolved by the end of the film. Though there are glimpses of hope, the grey cloud hovering above his head never seems to fade. The same overlaying tone of gloom is seen in the comic, for a day in the life of his American Splendor character would begin and end just as his own: "[Ending] with the hero shrugging, giving a little homily, living to mope another day" (Edelstein 1). Pekar did, however, want recognition and praise for his work. An opportunity came when "Late Night" with David Letterman called asking Pekar to be a guest on the show. Although he was not the type of individual who would watch the show, Pekar figured that being a guest would help the success of his comic. However, he soon realizes how TV and the media were only interested in watching "[his] self-absorption [turn] drama into mere exposition," and therefore, gain cheap laughs (Arnold 2). The audiences enjoy looking down on Pekar's life and ignore the relevance of his comic. Their ignorance is most unfortunate, for American Splendor is truly innovative in both presentation and content. After several guest spots with little effect on his comic sales, Pekar has had enough. On his final appearance, Pekar candidly speaks out against NBC and their involvement with General Electric as well as how dead modern media has become. After watching the film several times, Pekar's words spoken about the media and "yuppie" television seem to always be caught in the back of his throat, waiting to come out. Moreover, these are the words of many viewers and readers alike (Elliot 2). Pekar's voice is "the voice of consolation," which reaches into every demographic and pulls out individuals who can relate to his daily life (Edelstein 1). In a pessimistic and straightforward tone, he documents his personal and professional growth in his comic, providing an outlet for his audience to connect with him. And as the comics progress, more and more of his "friends, colleagues, girlfriends and wives [became the] pain-in-the-ass characters" featured monthly in the comics (Edelstein 1). Pekar's friends want to be featured in every issue, begging to know what he would write about next. However, there is no formula for American Splendor; no script. The candid creation and collaboration of his thoughts alone fill the comic books from cover to cover without any input from others. This same attribute is seen in the film. At only 101 minutes long, the viewer wants to see more. They need to see more. Yet the movie ends, the credits roll, and the curtains close. This feeling of disappointment and satisfaction all rolled into one is rare, yet the presence of the emotion is definite (HBO Films). Before the film, modern media seems to only produce stories of great triumph and achievement, withholding nothing but one thing: reality. This is what all viewers care to escape from while watching a film such as The Matrix or listening to a trendy new hip-hop album by "50 Cent". Modern media, moreover, develops and evolves for the modern viewer and listener.
With seemingly never-ending advancements in technology, permanent standards cannot be set for what can be loved, created, or blown up in a film. Yet the most popular examples of modern media are ones to which audiences can relate; not films with the most explosions or high-tech graphics. For example, The Passion directed by Mel Gibson is raking in hundreds of millions at the box office. Regardless of the sensitive subject matter, the film draws large crowds because a large demographic of audience members can relate to and understand the topic at hand. On the contrary, Guillermo Del Toro's Hellboy, another comic book adaptation to film, has done only a fraction of The Passion's sales. However, in either example of film, the viewer would like to remain just that; a viewer. It is highly doubtful that anybody would want to either suffer in Jerusalem or encounter "Hellboy" in a dark alley. The same can be said for the viewer of American Splendor. Pekar, although a successful underground comic writer, does not possess the qualities that any audience member would want to have. However, while critics may not care to trade lives with Pekar, they will certainly give credit where credit is earned. The film has been highly praised for its presentation as well as for its casting. Directors Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini have been honored many times for their adaptation of Harvey Pekar's life to
film, most notably by Sundance's International Film Festival and Cannes' Film Festival which both applauded the brilliance in the simplicity of the work's content. American Splendor also received twenty-three other awards, in addition to seventeen notable nominations ("Awards" 1). However, praise for the movie does not end at the critics' desks. Just as Pekar's comics receive mass underground praise, the film adaptation, too, receives great underground recognition. Keeping true to its colors, American Splendor outlines the basic life of "‘a grumpy loser file clerk'" (Elliot 1), which preserves the comic's fan's acclaim for Pekar, an important motivator for him. Although at first ‘"[he] was looking for anything. [One knows], [getting] paid once and that's it,'" yet he gets far more than he bargains for (Elliot 1). The "highly intelligent and colorful" author now tours around the United States lecturing to students and anyone else who will listen to him (Arnold 1).
As far as David Letterman is concerned, "‘[he] is not going to have [me] back,' Pekar [says]. ‘I think he just wants me to go away like a bad dream'" (Elliot 2). In 2001, Harvey Pekar retired from his job at the hospital ending his thirty-six year career as a file clerk. After the fact, Pekar reflects that ‘"the greatest artists are the innovators'" (2). American Splendor is the brainchild of a great artist. The film's revolutionary aspects provide an edge that in comparison to other films is second to none. The raw emotion poured into the comic overflow into the movie, and the effect is received with great admiration. After all, "when [Pekar] did [his] comics [he] always wanted people to look at [him] as some kind of an everyman, but [his] stuff didn't sell good. Here it seems like [people] get it. [Viewers] see themselves in [Pekar], and [Pekar] in themselves" (Pekar). He succeeded in reaching an audience, a large audience in fact; yet at the end of the day, "The only way a screwed-up guy like [Pekar] can take it is one day at a
time."