There’s a lot going on in this film, and I’m willing to admit that I might not be catching the technical significance of what it’s able to put together. But I do appreciate it.

American Splendor mixes documentary, animation and dramatization to tell the remarkable (and true) story of Harvey Pekar. Harvey is a loner, a loser, an oddball, a 40-something who lives alone and works as a file clerk at a hospital. He’s not that bright, but he has a knack for seeing the quirky things in life; and after he meets up with a comic book artist Harvey begins writing a comic book series about his own daily life – kind of like a Seinfeld episode.

The majority of the film is dramatized with Paul Giamatti as Harvey and Hope Davis as Joyce, the woman he meets and marries. The strange spontaneous marriage between the two is fun, but still leaves us wondering why Joyce married this man. Their relationship is frequently rocky, but the two are strange enough that it manages to work out and, as we see in the documentary portion of the film, they’re still together.

Though I generally prefer an acted story over documentary, the random narration and commentary from the real Harvey Pekar makes up many of the most entertaining moments of the film – especially as Giamatti sits and watches Harvey in action. Just as fun are the occasional animated sequences that allow us into Harvey’s imaginative world. Each of the different aspects work well together and succeed in bringing Harvey Pekar to life in so many ways.

There’s a genuine sense of melancholy pervading the film that keeps it real when it threatens to get too romanticized. The film is heavily self-conscious and reminds us of the fact that even though Harvey is celebrating the humble simplicity of life, he’s still doing it to make a buck. The real Harvey concludes the film talking about how he hoped this film will make him rich. This is a post-modern film that challenges its own post-modernity through its constant self-awareness and unflinching honesty.

On the other hand, I discovered no major revelation in its content. Though constantly engaging, it feels more like an intellectual/aesthetic puzzle game than any genuinely significant commentary on humanity. This is a film that’s good for no other reason than that it’s good. On second thought, that may be the best post-modern twist of all.