Subtle Bleakness

Ghost World, both the book and film, are works that deal with a girl by the name of Enid’s constantly reaching an impasse in her life. In both works Enid is the instigator of those moments of impasse that happen to her; of the moments when she’s not connecting with anyone. However, the difference between both the graphic novel and the film is that Daniel Clowes’ graphic novel never gets inside Enid’s thought processes, while Thora Birch’s Enid in Terry Zwigoff’s film is a much richer characterization. Birch’s performance gives credence to Enid’s view of the world. (An audience can tell that Zwigoff and company truly respect Enid’s individuality.) In the film, it’s not so much that Enid is an isolationist because she’s an unconscionable jerk, but that she’s an isolationist because she’s so unlike everyone else. There’s an opposing dialectic between graphic novel and film: in the graphic novel, Enid is too immature to connect with other people, while in the film Enid’s estrangement from others is her way of becoming an adult.
One of the key differences between both film and graphic novel is both works sense of spirit. In my opinion, the graphic novel is more malicious than the film; not only characterizing both Enid and Rebecca (Scarlett Johansson in the film) as stereotypically hipster criticizers who reject everything in their path, but characters they make fun of are also stereotypically caricatures or composites of “weirdoes” . (It doesn’t help that the work is a graphic novel.) No one gets off easy in Clowes’ universe.
One gets the impression when they read Ghost World that no one can connect in the graphic novel because everyone holds derision towards everyone else in Enid’s town. (I for one would not want to take up residence there.) A scene like the one where the Seymour (Steve Buscemi in the movie) like character goes into the Diner looking for the woman who answered his personal ad, only to find that he’s had a prank pulled on him (Enid was the one who called Seymour) stays a malicious prank in the graphic novel because Enid never gets to apologize to Seymour, like she does in the film. In fact, in the film, Enid goes out of her way to personally know Seymour. She’s fascinated by the man in a way that’s completely a new experience for her, considering that’s she’s not fascinated by anyone else. In the graphic novel, the Seymour type character remains a composite-an image out of a comic book that lacks any dimensionality because the reader doesn’t see any more of him. Actually, the character traits of the Seymour in the film are regulated throughout many different characters in the graphic novel, diminishing the aspect of the man as individual. I think the casting of Steve Buscemi in the film helps the audience gain empathy with a man like Seymour, to the effect that he becomes rather endearing. The audience, like Enid, begins to view this man as a cool unique individual. More than that, he’s a man that shares a common sensibility (and sensibility is the key word here, opposed to the graphic novel) with the protagonist of the film. They both find ideas like the whitewashing of hatred in modern society interesting, while others simply dismiss the idea because it’s so taboo. These criticizers have a one dimensional viewpoint of Enid’s and Seymour’s ideas. (It’s the reverse in the graphic novel. In the graphic novel, a person like Enid sees everyone as one dimensional.) Throughout the movie, both figures occupy the same frame opposed to the comic book where the Seymour type character is relegated to his own comic book frame by Enid’s pov; in a sense being mocked in his own cage like an animal. (In the movie, others mock Enid’s artwork; hence why she maturely becomes an isolationist opposed to the inverse mocking in the graphic novel.)
The color scheme of the graphic novel makes Ghost World a one dimensional work of art-makes it a frigid aqua blue type of graphic novel. The graphic novel is a black and white one dimensional view of the world, whereas the film is in bold primary color denoting the enjoyment and thrill of being an individual. All one has to do to compare both works is to compare the two scenes in the Diner to see that Zwigoff sees individuals like Weird Al the waiter, Seymour, and even Enid as enjoyably eccentric; he imparts the space they inhabit, like the Diner, colorfully with primary reds. Clowes doesn’t.
Yet, there’s a downside to this exuberance of sensibility in the film and that is that it’s ephemeral. After awhile, one cannot share this point of view with others. This is a much more logical viewpoint than the graphic novel’s; the graphic novel’s snide viewpoint that snide people remain forever alone, because they’ve alienated everyone around them, can begin to be rather repetitive by book’s end. Zwigoff subtly imparts this knowledge throughout the movie; in effect taking away the snide tone of the book. In the key scene where Enid is listening to the Blues music that Seymour has lent her, even though this is in a sense Seymour and Enid’s way of connecting, Enid is sharing the moment by herself. Throughout the film, there are other subtle indications of Enid’s isolationist temperament, like when she starts relegating Seymour to her answering machine-a much more subtle form of relegating someone than found in the graphic novel. Is it ironic that the moment when Enid is at her most desperately alone, the color scheme of the bed that she’s lying on while crying is at its most flamboyantly colorful? There is a subtle bleakness to Ghost World and that is that the film shows how true individuality can lead to loneliness.
One of the clever ways that the film has added to the conception of the graphic novel is by a)altering Rebecca’s character in an interesting fashion and b)adding a new love interest for Seymour. In the film, Rebecca’s the one that is basically the influence for Enid to enter the conventional corporate working world, opposed to the instigator of her critical nature, in the graphic novel. In the film, Rebecca tries to convince Enid to get a job so that they can get an apartment together. For Seymour’s character, the person that is pulling him towards normalcy is his new girlfriend. (Both women share similar corporate working places, as well as dull bland apartments lacking the originality of Enid’s and Seymour’s place.) Interestingly enough, both break it off with the two characters and yet still Seymour and Enid don’t get in a relationship with each other. Much of this has to do with the mere idea that the two have some kind of connection to conventionality that they both don’t want to face, as evidenced in the scene where Enid notices that Seymour’s girlfriend bought him conventional jeans; this is the moment when both characters start to share their own frames much like in the graphic novel, i.e. they both become critical of one another. I prefer this form of estrangement opposed to the graphic novel’s. There’s no malicious arguments in the film. Instead, simply other people indicate the flaws in both Enid and Seymour’s relationship. Even though the square world doesn’t understand individuals like Enid and Seymour at all, at the same time individualistic people know each other all too well, and know when they are showing hints at being square. (In the graphic novel these complexities are missing in the Seymour Enid argument scene at the Diner. It’s not even so much of an argument, as a scene where Seymour tells Enid off.) So instead, they simply separate themselves from everyone else (including the audience, i.e. the film ends.)
Yet, Enid is not as callow as she was in the graphic novel, even when being separated from everyone else because of her point of view. Even when Seymour gets incredibly upset at Enid once he finds the first sketch she ever made of him, what he doesn’t see, until Enid shows him, is the other sketches she has made of him once she got to know him better. The surprise of the film is that Enid, like Seymour, is a truly mature person, as indicated visually when she goes home, washes the dye out of her hair and listen’s to Skip James’s Devil Got My Woman. The hipster image was merely a façade, while in the graphic novel it’s only when Enid is tragically alone, because of her own doing, that Clowes gives her an isolated moment away from Rebecca; the one who promulgates her hatred of everyone. (The one non-superficial similarity between graphic novel and film is that Enid’s isolated moments serve as a relief away from Rebecca.) One gets a sense of this if you compare both isolation scenes from the graphic novel and film. An image like the one where Enid has an empowering close up in the film, while listening to Skip James, is in direct contrast to the image on the second panel of page 62 in the graphic novel where Enid in long shot is holding her head down low in tears, basically (and arguably) being criticized by Clowes for her actions.
Yet in the film, no matter all the good intentions from both parties, Seymour and Enid still drift apart. This is an indication of the complexity (and maturity) of Zwigoff’s Ghost World; in the film once one is imparted with the knowledge that they should be themselves, they begin to become isolated. Even though no one gets off easy in Zwigoff’s universe, the filmmaker doesn’t condemn those people either.