He created Mr. Natural. He fathered Fritz the Cat. He invented Whiteman. His name is Robert Crumb, and this is his story.
One fateful day in 1955, young Robert and his two brothers, Charles and Maxon, saw on TV Disney's first live-action feature film, Treasure Island, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. Such was the power of this moment, nothing would ever be the same again. This was because Charles, the eldest, found his true calling: Comic books!
Realizing he needed to live inside the world of Treasure Island forever through hand-drawn comics, Charles set his brothers to work. They created a club, and with monastic devotion dedicated themselves to the cause of Treasure Island every day. For 6 or 7 years. In the words of Maxon, "It was like these three primordial monkeys working it out in the trees."
Trapped in a world he never made--a world of awful bullies and other inferiors blind to his artistic genius--Crumb vowed revenge. And achieved it through underground comics. A genre he created.
At last, our hero could expose "the sickness under the surface" of the healthy American '50s family façade. Like a latter day Daumier or Bruegel, Crumb poured his energy into illustrating his inordinate fondness for getting kicks on his aunt's cowboy boots. Which, alone in a closet, he was wont to straddle while singing, "Jesus loves me, this I know, for The Bible tells me so..."
Yes, Crumb realized he had issues. Precisely like everyone else, only more so. But unlike everyone else, he had the decency to draw them and share.
While exorcising--and exercising--his personal demons through art became Crumb's career, the film makes clear that if he can't draw, he simply feels depressed and suicidal. "It's a deeply ingrained habit," he says, "all because of my brother Charles."
Whereas Charles had no interests at all other than comic books, Robert was (and presumably still is) an avid fan of vintage ragtime and blues records. Consequently, this music is an essential character in the documentary.
Just as Charles used to walk around in public shamelessly dressed as Long John Silver, so too Robert found his niche in the attire and musical interests of 1930s folk. Keeps his TV on black and white, too, good-naturedly shrugging away the tearful protests of his children.
"When I hear old music, it's like one of the few times I have a love for humanity," he says.
He turned down guest-hosting "Saturday Night Live." He turned down doing an album cover for The Rolling Stones. Sheena, Queen of the Jungle? Now her he might turn off, but he would never turn down a piggy-back ride swinging through the trees.
In film terms, Crumb is a sleeper, with legs. And in Crumb terms, those legs are shapely and powerful.
It's about art, sexuality, family, and the history of America. It's the movie that takes schlock to task, and it's about time.
Eureka, CA, by the way, gets a specific mention.
For those tired of the "unified field of bought, sold, market-researched everything," the natural choice is Terry Zwigoff's 1994 gem.
Stewart Kirby writes for
THE INDEPENDENT
and
TWO RIVERS TRIBUNE
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