Portrait Of An Artist Winner Of Many Film Awards, ‘Crumb’ Comes To Video Stores This Week

Today, Terry Zwigoff’s life is being defined by his phone.

At the moment, he’s talking to a reporter from Spokane, Wash., in one of several interviews he’s doing on this winter afternoon.

As we talk, in fact, he answers a call-waiting signal that turns out to be Howard Stern’s representative, finalizing the date for Zwigoff’s appearance on the shock-jock’s nationally broadcast show.

And then there’s the phone call that he’s going to make as soon as we’re done.

That call will be to Sony Pictures, the company that is distributing the movie that has brought Zwigoff almost universal acclaim - the movie, in fact, that is the reason Zwigoff is so phone-busy this afternoon.

The movie is called “Crumb,” and it comes out on video Tuesday.

For those of you who didn’t see the film during its limited theatrical run, “Crumb” tells the story of Zap Comix artist Robert Crumb. Even if you don’t recognize the name, you’re likely familiar with his trademark style. A few of his renderings have become cultural icons, whether they be of Mr. Natural, Fritz the Cat or the cover of Big Brother and the Holding Company’s “Cheap Thrills” album.

But his best-known work has to be the thoroughly ‘60s image of men with long legs strutting to the mantra “Keep on Truckin’ ” - a message that would be forever wed to the Grateful Dead.

Zwigoff’s film is a study both of the man’s art and his life. It takes us into his childhood home, introducing us to his brothers, his mother, old friends, ex-wives, children and others who either recognize him as an important voice in an arguably important genre or who merely idolize him.

Zwigoff is happy about the forthcoming video release for at least a couple of reasons. First, it’s another chance for his documentary to reach a wide audience.

And second, it’s another opportunity for him to make some money.

Which is why he’s so anxious to call Sony.

“It cost $189,000 to make,” he says. “Sony made $3 million. And I just got a statement from them showing me that I won’t see a cent.”

Zwigoff’s bitter laugh courses through the phone receiver.

“I’m rather pissed about it,” he says. “My next phone call after I finish these interviews is going to be, ‘What are you talking about, I’m not seeing a penny!’ “

Then he laughs again, this time without the anger.

“Hopefully, we’ll see some money from the home video, but I’m sure they’ll cheat us, too,” he says. “It’s a tough business.”

No one would deny it. There are problems associated with all aspects of the film industry, whether we’re talking about mainstream Hollywood product, independently financed art films or bare-bones-budget documentaries such as “Crumb.”

But “Crumb” seems to have had more than its share.

For one thing, it was virtually ignored by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences last year. Not only did it not earn an Oscar nomination, one report had the academy’s documentary nominating committee turning the 119-minute film off after just a half hour.

The Oscar ultimately went to filmmaker Freida Lee Mock for her film “Maya Lin: A Strong, Clear Vision.”

“She was the chairwoman of the documentary committee,” Zwigoff says, his words heavy with irony. “Funny that she won.”

Not that his own film has gone unappreciated. Film festivals all over the country, from New York to Seattle - and Sundance in between - were virtually unanimous in praising Zwigoff’s movie.

“Crumb” not only won Best Documentary at last year’s Seattle International Film Festival, but it sold out two showings and earned standing ovations both times.

The critics awards that “Crumb” won included those from the New York Critics Circle, the Los Angeles Film Critics Association and the National Society of Film Critics. In all, “Crumb” was listed on more than 75 Top 10 lists, including those of the Boston Globe, The New Yorker, The Miami Herald, the Portland Oregonian and - last but hardly least - The Spokesman-Review.

Still, the recognition came slowly. At first, Zwigoff couldn’t get anyone, even minor festivals, interested in his little movie.

“I thought, ‘God, this movie is pretty damned good,”’ Zwigoff says. “‘I haven’t seen anything better than this.’

I know that sounds awfully - oh, what’s the word? - arrogant or incredibly shameless. But I always thought of it as a collaborative effort, and it turned out well.”

That it turned out as well as it did is a bit surprising, especially considering Zwigoff’s subject matter is bound to prove repellant to some viewers.

Just as the man’s art is.

Crumb’s worldview is decidedly acidic, yet it is marked by an almost child-like glee in the way that he turns over the rocks of American society to show its dark underside. Racism, sexism, nationalism and, most of all, the inherent hypocrisy that Crumb sees in the very makeup of contemporary culture all are his targets.

But he is no preacher, no evangelist pumping home the easy message that we’re all going to hell in a handbasket. No, if anything Crumb is delighted by the vile essence that he sees all around him - whether it be an All-American family indulging in incest, a solidly built African woman being routinely raped by suit-wearing advertising salesmen, or a stereotypical guru named Mr. Natural whose proclivity for sex with minors is hardly natural at all.

So there’s a fine line in Crumb’s art. And some would say that he sometimes, maybe even often, crosses the line from commentary on evil to simple indulgence in it.

Zwigoff’s film argues against the latter. A friend of Crumb’s from the early ‘70s, when the two began playing together in a San Francisco string band, Zwigoff takes pains to present both sides cinematically - with the weight falling at least slightly in favor of the notion of Crumb as l’artiste.

But then, “Crumb” the movie isn’t all that interested in presenting Crumb the man as anything more than a survivor of a kind of family dysfunction pernicious enough to cripple Jesus.

“To me, the film was never about him,” Zwigoff says. “It was about the three brothers.”

That is, Robert and his brothers Charles and Max - the latter two of whom demonstrated early on the same kind of artistic talent as their more famous brother, but neither of whom ever displayed the kind of self-discipline surrounding their respective talents that Robert did.

“That was something that was very strong for me,” Zwigoff says. “That talent, getting closer to the source of it, where did it come from, was it genetic, how did they get so good at this?” And where, at least in terms of Charles and Max, did it go? “Yeah, right,” Zwigoff says. “And it can destroy your life. It’s a very dangerous thing, I think, that they were all gifted with.”

Only Robert made it work well enough to make a life - of sorts.

The film ends with Crumb, tired of the very society that fuels his imagination, emigrating to a small village in France. There, with his young daughter and his third wife, the hope is that he will find some peace.

According to Zwigoff, that is exactly what has happened - though, naturally, it came with a price.

“It’s good for him to be there,” Zwigoff says. “It’s more what his nervous system can handle. But that angst which drives his work and that craziness of America that he has his finger on is totally absent over there. And he hasn’t done anything good (with his art) since he’s been there. It’s too bad.”

But not for Zwigoff. For him, “Crumb” - while maybe not the financial bonanza he’d hoped for - has led to other projects. One strong probability is a mainstream feature called “Ghost World” (based on the work of another underground cartoonist, Daniel Clowes), which three studios were bidding on.

A distinct possibility was revealed, finally, to be a definite no-go. And, fittingly enough for Zwigoff, the denouement took place over the phone.

Zwigoff had been negotiating to do a documentary, a la “Crumb,” on the life of writer/director Woody Allen. Meeting with Allen, who claimed to have seen “Crumb” twice, Zwigoff was convinced the film was going to happen.

And then Jean Doumanian, Allen’s long-time business associate, delivered the bad news: Zwigoff would not have final cut. Zwigoff resisted, she insisted, and the two parted ways.

“She was very mad,” Zwigoff says. “She said, ‘Who do you think you are, Orson Welles? Orson Welles only had final cut on one film!’ And I said, ‘Yeah, it was “Citizen Kane!”“’

Zwigoff laughs again, this time with just a hint of sadness.

“It’s a shame,” he says. “It would have made a great film. He was a very interesting guy, very funny, very smart. Very similar to Robert.”

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