Dear Mr. Watterson

So who doesn't like Calvin & Hobbes? Nobody, least of all me.

I tried to like this documentary, I really did, but I just can't. It's an endless loop of talking heads blathering about how cool and awesome and original Calvin & Hobbes was. Thanks, I already knew that. Anything new in here? Almost nothing, if you've read Watterson's own introductions to his books.

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...

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!

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

A documentary film about the impact of the newspaper comic strip Calvin & Hobbes, created by Bill Watterson.

First and foremost, it is important to stress that Bill Watterson is not in this documentary and the film is really not about Watterson himself. Instead, this is about the impact and life of its own that the strip took on -- Calvin and Hobbes are larger than life characters that transcend Watterson.

The cornerstone of this documentary is the trip to the Cleveland suburb of Chagrin Falls. We see the scenery and the mascot being the Tigers is no coincidence. The old drawings and photos in the basement are fascinating, and any die-hard fan of Watterson would have to visit this town.

What is most great is the praise from Bill Amend and Stephen Pastis, who made what could be called the only two great post-Calvin comic strips, "Fox Trot" and "Pearls Before Swine".