American Splendor Page #4

HARVEY:

It’s terrific, man! I really dig

your work.

Crumb ignores Harvey’s praise.

CRUMB:

(holding up a vintage

comic)

18.

CRUMB(cont'd)

This PETER WHEAT book is by Walt

Kelly... It’s pretty rare.

HARVEY:

Yeah? Can I get good bread for it?

CRUMB:

Nah! Not yet.

Harvey flops down in an overstuffed chair. Stuffing flies

out. He sips his beer.

HARVEY:

Listen man, let’s get back to your

book. What are you gonna do with

it?

CRUMB:

(looking up)

I hadn’t thought about it. It’s

just an exercise.

Harvey flips through the book.

HARVEY:

It’s more than an exercise. It’s

breaking ground, man. There’s some

wild sh*t in here.

Crumb is immune to Harvey’s enthusiasm.

CRUMB:

You’re spitting on me, Harvey.

CUT TO:

INT. HARVEY’S LIVING ROOM - FALL - 1962 - LATER

CRUMB lies on the couch sketching while HARVEY reads more of

THE YUM YUM BOOK. A scratchy jazz record plays.

REAL HARVEY (V.O.)

Crumb and I hung out a lot back

then. We had records and comics in

common.

ANGLE ON CRUMB’S DRAWING

We see Crumb is actually sketching Harvey, slumped in a chair

reading a book. Crumb makes Harvey look like a smelly,

sweaty madman with ratty clothing.

Crumb holds the sketch of Harvey up to show him.

19.

CRUMB:

(laughing)

Check it out, man. Pretty scary.

Harvey glances up at his portrait, completely unselfconscious.

HARVEY:

Yeah, ya don’t know the half of it.

Harvey goes back to reading. Crumb back to sketching.

REAL HARVEY (V.O.)

Eventually people got hip to

Crumb’s art work and he started

hangin’ out with a Bohemian crowd.

After a while, he got sick of

greeting cards and moved away to

San Francisco where he got the

whole underground comic scene off

the ground.

Crumb slowly evaporates from the room, leaving Harvey totally

alone.

ANGLE ON 45 RECORD SPINNING AND SPINNING

REAL HARVEY (V.O.) (cont’d)

He’d come back ta Cleveland every

few years, an’ people’d treat him

like a celebrity.

The record spins and spins ...

END FLASHBACK:

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. BUS STOP - 1975 - DAY

ANOTHER R. CRUMB DRAWING OF HARVEY (Now circa 1975)

On a sketch pad we see a deranged, tormented Harvey sitting

alone on a park bench. He pulls at his hair, and looks as

though he may murder the next person who walks by.

INTERTITLE:
BACK TO 1975

As the pencil adds shading to Harvey’s face, WE HEAR:

20.

REAL HARVEY (V.O.)

Once he came to visit when I was

really feelin’ bad. It was right

around the time of my throat

operation, an’ right after my

second wife left me. At first it

was pretty weird. I mean, here my

life was falling apart an’

everything was going great for him.

I was on my second divorce an’ he

was a big hit with the chicks. I

was a nothin’ file clerk and he was

this famous cartoonist.

HARVEY and R. CRUMB sit on a park bench together by a bus

stop. A distraught Harvey whines while Crumb just sketches.

Harvey’s voice is still raspy.

.

HARVEY:

I dunno, man. On the one hand most

women gettin’ graduate degrees

wouldn’t give a guy like me the

time a’ day. An’ she married me

an’ everything, so I gotta give her

some kinda credit. But then she

got so mean to me in the end. An’

it ain’t like I tried t’keep her

captive or anything like that,

y’know?

Crumb may or may not be listening to Harvey. It’s hard to

tell.

HARVEY (cont’d)

An’ then on top of it I lost my

voice for three months. I still

sound like sh*t, but before I had

nothin’. Man, talk about hell. I

started forgettin’ what I sound

like, y’know? So I started writin’

stuff down--stories an’ things, my

points a’ view, ideas. I even

published a couple jazz record

reviews. I guess that ended up

bein’ a good thing.

CRUMB:

Uh-huh.

HARVEY:

But don’t think I buy into this

“growth” crap.

21.

HARVEY(cont'd)

Everybody talks about how bad

experiences can cause ya t’grow,

an’ all that cliched stuff. I’ve

had enough bad experiences and

growth to last me plenty.

(a beat)

Right now, I’d be glad to trade

some growth for happiness.

For a moment, they both just sit there saying nothing to each

other, each man in his own private universe.

Finally Harvey looks over to Crumb.

HARVEY (cont’d)

So how long are ya stayin’ in

Cleveland?

Crumb never looks up from his picture.

CRUMB:

I dunno, man. I gotta go visit

this chick in New York. And I’m

really busy with the comic book

stuff. It’s good bread and all man

but I’m getting fed up with the

whole scene.

HARVEY:

What are ya talkin’ about? Yer

makin’ a good living doin’ yer art?

Sheesh. How many guys get that

lucky in their life, huh?

.

CRUMB:

Yeah, I dunno.

HARVEY:

Ya know man, people are startin’ to

know the name “Crumb.” When you

croak you’re gonna leave something

behind.

CRUMB:

Yeah, my ashes and some crappy

doodles. It’s not like I’m Blind

Lemon Jefferson or Big Mama

Thornton.

HARVEY:

C’mon, man. It sure beats workin’

a gig like mine -- being a nobody

flunky and sellin’ records on the

side for a buck.

22.

CRUMB:

Yeah, well that’s true ...

Harvey nodoffended.

s in agreement, mulling this over. He’s not at all

CUT TO:

INT. V.A. HOSPITAL - 1975 - DAY

CLOSE ON A FILE DRAWER MARKED: “RECENTLY DECEASED.”

A hand reaches into the frame and opens the drawer.

By rote, HARVEY fumbles with a large stack of “expired

patient” files. He places each into the appropriate

alphabetical “deceased” drawer.

Attempting to grab another batch, Harvey accidentally knocks

the entire pile onto the floor.

HARVEY:

Damn it!

He crouches down to survey the mess -- a collage of “expired

lives” laid out before his eyes.

We move past dozens of anonymous names -- William Anderson,

Louis Collins, Mark D’Amico, Tyrone Moore, Franklin Ray,

etc... Each file has a red “Deceased” stamp.

Depressed, HARVEY is transfixed by the files surrounding him

on the floor. Suddenly he stops and picks one up.

ANGLE ON FOLDER:
It is marked, “CHARLIE MARSHALL.”

He opens the folder and reads the stats...

Born:
1920 in Cleveland

Died:
1920 in Cleveland

Occupation:
Clerk

ANGLE ON HARVEY:
He swallows hard as he reads about

Charlie’s small, invisible and now vanished life...

.

He tosses the folder back onto the pile.

CUT TO:

INT. HARVEY’S APARTMENT - 1975 - MORNING

23.

CLOSE ON:
TWO STICK FIGURES IN AN EMPTY FRAME

HARVEY sits at a table with a pen in hand and a blank sheet

of paper in front of him. Nothing seems to come to him.

He flips through a pile of comic books -- everything from

D.C. Comic Super Heroes to underground works such as Crumb’s

Mr. Natural and Zap Comix. No inspiration. Harvey throws

them down in frustration.

HARVEY:

I’m starvin’.

CUT TO:

INT. SUPERMARKET - 1975 - DAY

HARVEY pushes a cart through the cramped aisles of a crowded

supermarket. He pulls a few cans of Beef-A-Roni off the

shelf and heads off to pay. Reaching the check-out area, he

evaluates the situation.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes