I went to a screening last night at the Cartoon Art Museum for a documentary directed by a friend up from L.A. The Indepdents promised to be about the creative process, told from the perspective of comic book artists. I was afraid that it was going to be a painfully geeky foray into a world I know little about and was not particularly intrigued by. I took the bus up from San Jose, walked to the BART station and took the train two stops, rushing to make it by 7pm and skipping dinner. Three attempts to get a date had failed so I had plenty of opportunities to decide not to go, but I persisted.
I’m glad I did because several times during the film I found myself smiling and thinking “Right on!” First of all, these people are much more than illustrators; they’re storytellers in the purest sense. They sit down to a blank page with a pen and create a world, inhabit it with characters, give them dialogue and take us through an exciting narrative with amazing efficiency. Wendy Pini, an artist in the film, was there for a Q&A and described her 30-year old 'Elfquest' as the never ending battle between knowledge and ignorance. “I’m not interested in good and evil,” she said, “I’m much more interested in how people can understand each other through communication. “Elfquest” is very idealistic; it’s all about how people should treat each other.” I was surprised that many of them, like Wendy, knew they had a story to tell and chose comics as the medium because they could be producer, director, writer, actor and the studio – with the power to green light their own projects.
A few historical points were touched on and I learned that at the height of comic books' popularity with young adults, the industry was attacked for “eroding the minds of youth,” much the way rock and roll, rap music and video games have been. Comics began to be regulated and some were censored, many went out of business. The most palatable ideas, the superhero genre we’re so familiar with, were rewarded with unprecedented success and the marketing shifted to children, further marginalizing other comic styles.
I could relate with many of the artists in the film who took a long time to accept themselves as artists. Certainly it’s not easy to be an artist but my attempts to work a corporate job and be a weekend warrior have made me miserable. To my surprise, while I was frustrated as a poor cocktail waitress with roommates, I feel that those days were some of my happiest. I had the freedom to do what I wanted, including exercise, had abundant creativity and discipline to write, and felt that I was genuinely pursuing something important to me.
There was one guy in the film, Craig Thompson (“Blankets”), who really struck a chord with me. He constantly wonders if he should be doing something more humanitarian. He feels guilty being a comic book artist when he could be doing more to help his fellow man. I honestly have never heard anyone express that, even though I think it is exactly what plagues me. Back in college, I started wrestling with that issue, taking Women’s Studies, working for the College Democrats and dreaming of a career in politics. All the while, I was auditioning for films on campus and performing improve in the summers. I pursued acting despite my upbringing and internal messages telling me that it was frivolous, indulgent, a bad choice for a career, had a huge chance of failure, etc. Unfortunately for me, the desire to do something to make a difference hasn’t propelled me into great humanitarian work (although I do my fair share of volunteering), it has only kept me from truly being an artist. I deal with overwhelming feelings of guilt in wanting to be a filmmaker when there are issues I feel so strongly about and the obvious “answer” of making a documentary about those issues is wholly unappealing to me.
As I have sat at the crossroads of choosing a new path or recommitting myself to filmmaking, those feelings have become more pronounced. “I have to believe that comics are doing some good for people too,” Thompson concludes. Certainly Wendy Pini found a way to tell her story, be an artist and communicate a higher ideal that is meaningful to her. The answer, for me then, is to do what I love and believe I will make the difference I am meant to make.
No comments:
Post a Comment