Portrait of an Artist

 CRUMB (1995)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

On my Top Ten List of the best films of the 1990's

Review reprinted with permission by Steel Notes Magazine 

Documentaries rarely capture so vividly the essence of its subject like Terry Zwigoff’s “Crumb.” The film is a haunting, hilarious and downright disturbing portrait of the one of the most phenomenal cartoonists of the 20th century, Robert Crumb, but it also carries the insights into a dysfunctional family and how one chose art to deal with his personal demons, to escape and become functional. Crumb is the creator of classic comic strip characters such as Mr. Natural, Devil Girl and Fritz the Cat, and also the creator of famous cartoon witticisms such as “Keep on Truckin’.” But “Crumb” not only documents the artist’s work but his scary, downright abusive childhood in a family that could drive anyone nuts.

The family includes his mother, Beatrice, a former amphetamine addict (she passed away in 1997); his two brothers and his two sisters (the sisters refused to be interviewed for the film), as well as his vicious bastard of a father who died years earlier and physically and emotionally abused his children. One of Crumb’s brothers, Charles Jr. the oldest, is taking tranquilizers for his suicidal depression and still lives with his mother since he graduated high school (he committed suicide in 1992). Charles re-reads his favorite books, with a particular disdain for current authors, and is madly obsessive over comic strips. Max, the younger brother, lives in a run-down motel in San Francisco and is an artist who had a peculiar habit of pulling down women’s shorts in the street - he also sits and sleeps on a bed of nails. By comparison, Robert is relatively normal. Robert Crumb has been married twice and has one fully-grown son, Jesse, who dislikes his father’s emotional detachment. There is also a young daughter whom Crumb admits is “the only woman I’ve ever loved.” All this material fulfills the first half of the documentary - wait till you see what follows.

The second half of the film concentrates on Crumb, the cartoonist, the man and his artwork, as it explains the literal and subtle meanings behind his famous cartoons and his more recent work, most of which is shocking, perverse and frequently touches on taboo subjects. What transpires is a clear understanding of Crumb’s incredibly hostile view of women, or so it seems, even though he very much loves women (their derrieres are always large, their heads sometime monstrous or carnivorous, and yet occasionally Crumb sees the beauty of a simple portrait without any semblance of grotesque qualities). One particularly aggressive cartoon titled “A Bitchin’ Bod” (with each panel shown very clearly) shows a guy who is given a prize - a headless woman by Mr. Natural with a mannequin’s head screwed on top of her neck. The guy has sex with her and has his way with her, feeling guilty all the same until Mr. Natural pulls her head out after unscrewing the cap! Anyone with a brain can see that the comic is not misogynistic at all and such potent satire can still serve its purpose in this current climate. Then there are the stereotypes of black people shown as mammies, including Angel McSpade and who is treated like a wild animal by white people (the audience screening I attended was relatively mute and shocked by the depiction of Angel and a certain brand name for canned foods, the latter of which is hardly racist but rather a commentary on racism and how such racism is imported in advertising).

Crumb doesn’t always aim to shock - witness the eloquence and passage of time of “A Short History of America” strip which shows how a dirt road changed into an industrial street with malls, traffic lights and an abundance of electrical wires. He also draws various sketchbooks on the inner-city people he sees and the women he adored in high-school - segments such as these are easier to digest for the average moviegoer and are quite funny. Crumb also explains his fascination and attraction to Bugs Bunny, whereas his brother Charles was obsessed by the child actor Bobby Driscoll from 1950’s “Treasure Island.” We see how Robert funneled his fears and adolescent sexual fantasies into his work. With Charles, we see excerpts of his comics where there was more and more writing and gibberish and less and less drawings. 

“Crumb” is creepily, methodically fascinating and gradually becomes a disturbing film that had me hooked from the opening shots of sculptures and figurines of Crumb’s cartoon characters to the end where he moves to France with his wife, feeling no remorse for moving so far away from his mother. It is almost impossible to know how to respond to Robert Crumb himself - the film doesn’t condemn nor condone the work of the man. Despite the feeling and mood that is generated from his unhappy family and his delirious and controversial artwork, there is a general feeling of love and sympathy within him. By the end of the documentary, you’ll begin to wonder whether the man and the cartoonist are separate or one and the same. I have never forgotten “Crumb” when I first saw it in theaters in 1995 and, to this day, it is the single most penetrating and haunting document of an artist I’ve ever seen.