Robert Crumb is not everybody's cup of tea. He has been accused of being a racist and a misogynist. This film does much to deal with misconceptions about the artist, but not all the misconceptions are negative.<br /><br />As typical for a documentary like this, there are several artists/critics interviewed about Crumb's work. Invariably, there is some sort of analysis given. Crumb's compared to Brueghel, to Daumier, he's spoken of as a great political satirist.<br /><br />The fact is the first thing discussed in the film is what motivates Crumb's art, what is he trying to express. After a slightly amused, slightly annoyed "Jesus! I dunno..." he speaks that he doesn't think of his work in conscious terms until _after_ he's drawn it; then he figures out what it's about.<br /><br />This film very subtly points out Crumb is not really anything he's been accused or praised for being. His work "is the purest form of his id," his wife, Aline, comments.<br /><br />The film is really his triumph to be himself through a number of horrendous hurdles: a brutal father and drug addicted brother; being rejected by women; being tempted to sell out; and legal problems over cartoons. While his two brothers, Charles and Max, both show in differing degrees how their youths were permanently scarred then, Robert Crumb emerges whole, even admirable, in spite of the uncompromising nature of his art. He is unique, his work not easily separable into allegorical meanings or expression of political beliefs.<br /><br />Crumb is a great artist, and he cannot be understood from a few interviews and his art can't reduced into something understandable in clichéd artistic terms. Zwigoff's film shows Crumb in every way available and tries to express his art similarly. At the end, all we can do is be astonished that the man not only survived but flourished, and marvel at the wide range of what he's produced.<br /><br />Zwigoff's style is so seamless, it doesn't feel like his film, but Crumb's. Of course, it is not Crumb's, but that impression is an indication of Zwigoff's mastery of the form. If his own personality intrudes in the fabric of the film by what he shows and how he orders it, he complements rather than obscures Crumb's genius.<br /><br />The result is unforgettable, not just for its exposition of Crumb, artist and human being, but for the experience of letting Zwigoff's work flow over the film and us.