From the opening credits this movie captivated and continually surprised me, and in the end it's going to stay with me. American Splendor may not have the reach, scale or gravitas of a West Side Story or Godfather, but it is nevertheless nine stars for me.
And I think it's precisely because the film does not reach for the stars. American Splendor is an honest story on an honest scale, the real story of a regular guy who, "for the most part, lived in sh-t neighborhoods, held sh-t jobs." Harvey Pekar, we learn at the onset, is a real-life comic book character, but his were ANTI-superhero comics, about the challenges of everyday life: "No idealized sh-t; no phony bullsh-t." Not only is he not a superhero; he's also not a gangster or a gang member, a soldier or a spy, or anything we typically associate with high drama. Rather he's a Cleveland file clerk. Think about how often a file clerk is the star of a film, and you begin to get an idea of just how uncommon such honest stories are.
Now you might wonder why the story of a Cleveland file clerk would even be worth watching. But as Pekar observes, "ordinary life is actually pretty complex stuff." For example, after Pekar shares a brief, tender, heartfelt conversation with a former classmate he happens to run into, the glimpse of friendship/ affection/ love makes its ensuing absence almost unbearable.
The film, amazingly, captures the sweetness, sadness and complexity of ordinary life through a series of innovative maneuvers: having the real Harvey Pekar narrate and pop in to comment on the film along with his wife and friends and use of comic-strip scenes and video footage of Pekar's Dave Letterman appearances. But it's never innovation just to be different or even creative, but rather a way to maintain the honesty -- keeping the viewer in the know as to what's in front of and behind the camera. And rather than detract from the narrative sequence, the effects make the story all the more cohesive.
Pekar observes that although we inevitably lose the war (i.e., we die), we can win some battles along the way. Sometimes, though, even winning a single battle can seem next to hopeless. But although the odds were stacked mighty high against Pekar and American Splendor, both triumph boldly, an unqualified, wholehearted win that no subsequent loss, however inevitable, will ever undo.
And I think it's precisely because the film does not reach for the stars. American Splendor is an honest story on an honest scale, the real story of a regular guy who, "for the most part, lived in sh-t neighborhoods, held sh-t jobs." Harvey Pekar, we learn at the onset, is a real-life comic book character, but his were ANTI-superhero comics, about the challenges of everyday life: "No idealized sh-t; no phony bullsh-t." Not only is he not a superhero; he's also not a gangster or a gang member, a soldier or a spy, or anything we typically associate with high drama. Rather he's a Cleveland file clerk. Think about how often a file clerk is the star of a film, and you begin to get an idea of just how uncommon such honest stories are.
Now you might wonder why the story of a Cleveland file clerk would even be worth watching. But as Pekar observes, "ordinary life is actually pretty complex stuff." For example, after Pekar shares a brief, tender, heartfelt conversation with a former classmate he happens to run into, the glimpse of friendship/ affection/ love makes its ensuing absence almost unbearable.
The film, amazingly, captures the sweetness, sadness and complexity of ordinary life through a series of innovative maneuvers: having the real Harvey Pekar narrate and pop in to comment on the film along with his wife and friends and use of comic-strip scenes and video footage of Pekar's Dave Letterman appearances. But it's never innovation just to be different or even creative, but rather a way to maintain the honesty -- keeping the viewer in the know as to what's in front of and behind the camera. And rather than detract from the narrative sequence, the effects make the story all the more cohesive.
Pekar observes that although we inevitably lose the war (i.e., we die), we can win some battles along the way. Sometimes, though, even winning a single battle can seem next to hopeless. But although the odds were stacked mighty high against Pekar and American Splendor, both triumph boldly, an unqualified, wholehearted win that no subsequent loss, however inevitable, will ever undo.