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“If you’re the kind of person looking for romance or escapism or some fantasy figure to save the day…guess what? You’ve got the wrong movie.”
During the graphic novel revolution of the 70s, Harvey Pekar wrote a series of graphic novels titled American Splendor. I knew nothing of him until this film, but he was a huge success in the underground comic book scene and changed the idea of hero comics. He thought of superhero comics as “phony bullshit,” so the novels were about his life, his everyday battles, illustrated by his friends. He was the hero of his story much like we are heroes of our own lives. The film translates his story on the big screen, resulting in a quirky and off-beat biopic.
If I had to describe Pekar’s personality, perfectly depicted by Paul Giamitta, it would be the bastard child of Debbie Downer. Cynic would be an understatement. At the mid-point of his life, divorced twice, alone, out of shape, and a dead-end file clerk job. An avid reader and collector, his loneliness eats away at him. His misery is so pungent that it’s humorous. Pekar had no reason to exist, or so it seemed. In a crisis of purpose, he yearned to leave his mark on the world. Something to be remembered by, a purpose to his vain existence.
A turning point in a man’s his life, when he wonders “how he got to be second rate,” and faces an overwhleming feeling of futility. A realization that you are one of billions of people, so what is your life worth? You didn’t get fame or fortune and didn’t find the love of your life. You didn’t accomplish your dreams, life didn’t pan out as you planned, and you’ll be forgetten as fast as the ink dries on your death certificate. You lived and died and the world didn’t even blink an eye. It’s a foreboding realization, powerful enough that it provoked Pekar to write American Splendor.
We are familiar with this story and character in films such as Synecdoche, NY and American Beauty. However, American Splendor presents them in simpler terms, without the drama of a cheerleading lolita or a psychedelically grand production of life. The film finds simple drama in everyday life. Like his novels, Pekar fights his ordinary life one day a time. His argument against superhero comics is similar to arguments against movies like Synecdoche, NY: why the phony intricate stories when “ordinary life is pretty complex stuff?”
American Splendor was refreshing in style, characters, and simplicity. Part narrative, part documentary, it presented an interesting perspective on life, through the eyes of a cynic. The film was no phony, nor were the characters. The fact that Pekar is a real person only increases my affinity for this film. It isn’t a film for everyone, often slow and untidy. However, it is uplifting in it’s own way, despite the introduction, and it’s comforting to know that all ended well for Harvey Pekar.
I don’t want to lose you…th…
Adventureland was a surprisingly good film. Contrary to the grossly misleading trailer, it’s not a campy Reaganized Superbad. Set in the late 80s, the film is a coming of age tale of summer love. Jesse Eisenberg naturally plays the awkward James, Bill Hader plays the hilarious park manager Bobby, and Kristen Stewart is mesmerizing. I debated whether or not to write about this one. It wasn’t a complicated film, but it sparked thinking, and nothing good ever comes from thinking. From devil’s workshop…
There is a breed of fantasy that can be dangerous. The worst Star Wars ever inflicted is a twisted ankle from light-saber training in your parent’s basement. Dangerous fantasy inflicts inside, in the form of regret and yearning. While this maybe a personal experience, films are nonetheless a powerful medium of expression. They can effect us in unimaginable ways.
Adventureland is that dangerous breed of fantasy, only sharpened by Stewart. Directed and written by Greg Mottola, director of Superbad, Adventureland is a serious and at times dark film. Moments of immaturity breakup an otherwise bitter story. The theme park is a familiar place for our generation; a protected bubble of friendships, relationships, and tomfoolery. The world outside the park is just as familiar; to us it seems dark, real, and painful.
The park closes and we must eventually leave. At first our assumptions are correct, but slowly and surely we find happiness outside, often in each other. The film captures a nostalgia for simpler times, harken back to frivolous youth and tornadoes of summer love. A whirlwind of confusion, anger, heartache, and joy that only a young heart can survive. The last summer love, in American Pie or Adventureland, is the terminal vestige of our youth. These films fulfill our guilty pleasure to relive.
Whether it’s 1987 or 2007, that summer will elude us for the rest of our lives. A ray of innocent and free-falling memory. Time stops. Dysfunctional peripheral vision. In awe of such energy and infatuation that even watching water boil is the most interesting thing in the world. Summer passes and the winds of change blow, fading leaves of memories fall and cover in snow. We grow up, we grow apart, and no matter how perfect it was, we learn that “nobody ever wins a big ass panda.”
You’re fired if they do.
On bromance…and slappin’ the bass…
Last night I watched I Love You, Man. I went with my “bros” and it was a very clever, funny film. As hilarious as Superbad and 40 Year-Old Virgin without the phallic flashes or crude gimmicks. Just good funny dialogue. It got me thinking of the string of recent “bro” movies targeting young guys, like Pineapple Express. The filmmakers responsible for these films achieved box-office greatness in less than four years.
About five years ago Hollywood was in a conundrum. Video games, specifically Halo, devastated their largest audience: male college students. The guys preferred playing video games with friends rather than go through the effort and cost of movies. The studios were desperate for a solution to recover the male market while maintaining/improving the female market. Thus, the bromance was reborn; a buddy rom-com fit for our generation. Judd Apatow and his friends had the secret formula and Hollywood gleefully green-lighted the projects (I Love You, Man was formula but not by Apatow).
Recessions have an appetite for comedies and I’m looking forward to Funny People. As jokes get old formulas get older and I wonder how much longer these will last with a generation that wanes interest quickly.
