Dear Mr. Watterson

I love, love, love the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes! This movie, I just liked. It's much too long for the little "new" material/information it provides. However, I really liked the computer graphics that are in it, and it revived the love of C&H in my cellular structure! So much so, that after this, I'm gathering up all of my book collections, and reading them with my 9 year old girl! :-) Then, I'm off to go play an inning? round? quarter?, of Calvin Ball!! "... let's go exploring!"

While watching this movie I felt like I had walked into a bar or café filled with comic book artists and fans and for 90 minutes soaked up memories, insights, and little known tidbits of my favorite comic strip of all time.

I'm glad it didn't feel like just a chronological, step-by-step walk through Watterson's career or the C&H strip. I'm glad it wasn't a filmmaker seeking out Watterson and knocking on his door for the rare interview (which was the biggest problem I had with the John Hughes doc "Don't You Forget About Me").

After the movie was over I wanted to go back and re-read my "Complete Calvin and Hobbes" anthology. It made me want to put Chagrin Falls, Ohio on my list of places to visit (during Autumn, of course).

It made me want to go take a walk with my dog in the woods (at almost 40 years old, I'm too old for stuffed tigers). Let's go exploring...

There are guys who have been drawing comic strips for twenty, thirty years, and here's Bill Watterson with his decade-run on Calvin and Hobbes, redefining the artform before walking off the stage. It was essentially a mic drop and then a fade into obscurity. You can probably tell how deeply my love runs for his work, and I'll try not to belabor that point.

But this movie is only so happy to do just that, pulling artists from all levels of comic strip fame to pay respect to that legacy that the reclusive Watterson left in his wake. It's more than just communal appreciation and rightly points out just what he did to raise the bar and preserve the strip's integrity. And that word is the name of the game; because while Calvin and Hobbes continues to attract and influence, it's also left to stand on its own. This is a quality documentary, and it evokes genuine emotions. It's as much a love letter as it is an artistic statement.

7/10

Calvin and Hobbes is probably my favorite comic strip. Created by Bill Watterson, C&H was about a boy and his stuffed tiger who "came to life" whenever they were alone. His best friend, his rival, his voice of reason, etc. Hobbes always was there for Calvin. As well, Calvin has a vivid imagination with his alter egos Spaceman Spiff and Stupendous Man getting him out of the frying pan and into the fryer at school. His abuse of Susie Derkins and his parents was always fun, as well as his battles against Rosalyn the babysitter. It, like Peanuts, was a comic that anybody could enjoy.

Bill Watterson is a man I admire because his only reason for cartooning was for his love of the art. He refused to prostitute his creation for huge money and lamented the smaller spaces a newspaper would provide for his creations. After several breaks, he ended his comic strip on January 1, 1996 and retreated to private life. In a day when Justin Bieber claims he will "retire" but won't because his huge ego and opportunities will be too great, Watterson has stayed true to his word.

Dear Mr. Watterson is a Kickstarter type documentary directed by Joel Allen Schroeder, a big fan of Calvin and Hobbes who visits Chagrin Falls, Ohio to learn more about the man's early life and his work before hitting it big. He visits a library to see his early work and find what his influences are. He talks to some of his friends in L.A. who are big fans of the comic to this day.

It's the segments with other cartoonists that are of interest. Many of them are fans of Watterson but one, Berkeley Breathed, seems to be a tiny bit bitter about being seen as a sell-out as Charles Schulz, Jim Davis and Scott Adams are for marketing their creations to the max.

Some of the documentary is rather pointless babble about the true meaning of Calvin and Hobbes but there is some good insight on what made the man tick and how he operated. I felt it could have been 15 minutes shorter, though. Respectfully, Schroeder does not go looking for Mr. Watterson and honors his want of privacy.

All in all, not bad. I really can't see the subject being done better and not intruding on Bill Watterson's privacy. I'm grateful he was able to give the masses a delightful comic that never gets old or tiresome and didn't overstay its welcome, unlike Justin Bieber and any other auto-tuned "singing sensation".

Greetings again from the darkness. Two upfront admissions: First, I am not a comic strip historian. Second, there have been a hand full of comic strips that I have been obsessively "drawn" to, and Calvin and Hobbes was definitely one of them. Any fan of C&H would not miss the chance to see a documentary that might provide some insight into the genius behind the imaginative boy and his feline friend. Bill Watterson is now as famous for his life as an extreme recluse as he is for his artistry on the little boy and his feline friend.

Directed by uber fan Joel Allen Schroeder, we are presented with a steady stream of talking heads interrupted periodically by Schroeder's trips to the Cartoon Museum, Ohio State University library, and Chagrin Falls, Ohio (Watterson's hometown and the foundation of the Calvin and Hobbes world). Many of the talking heads are other cartoonists who remain in awe of Watterson's works. We get a glimpse into the business side as we hear from an executive at Universal Press Syndicate, Watterson's publisher. There is also a segment with Jean Schulz, the widow of Charles "Sparky" Schulz, the man behind "Peanuts".

Since we see so little of the actual published work, we lean heavily on the spoken words of those interviewed ... kind of frustrating when the subject is a medium of such visual relevance. Even more frustrating is the lack of insight into Watterson as an artist. Instead, the director rehashes what we already know from following the work. Watterson's "high art vs. low art" arguments are mentioned as is his belief that imagination and creativity are crucial to the good life.

By far the most interesting commentary comes from Stephan Pastis, known for his "Pearls Before Swine". Pastis not only admires Watterson's legacy but he provides insight into the world of artists who are constantly under the pressure of commercialism, and often find themselves doing business with those they have little in common with. He explains Watterson's vision and integrity in denying licensing rights to Calvin and Hobbes. Leaving hundreds of millions of dollars on the table by refusing to allow Calvin and Hobbes lunch boxes, t-shirts, stuffed animals, etc ... clearly shows that Watterson's vision was not about revenue, but rather about artistic integrity. The comparison to Snoopy selling insurance make the point quite directly.

So we walk away with no more insight into Watterson, no more insight into Calvin and Hobbes, but a clear understanding of the industry respect that the work carries. We all share the pure joy of reading and re-reading our favorite panels and not just the smiles they bring, but also the multiple layers of observation delivered by a boy and his tiger. It's reminder to keep your imagination active and never miss a chance to go exploring!