He was also a prototypical punk rocker. He drank too much, pitched infantile tantrums, urinated into his patron's fireplace, upended a Thanksgiving table laden with food, humiliated his wife and most loyal champion by messing around, and, on top of it all, expected forgiveness because he produced what he considered great art. In other words, the drip-painter was also a drip.
Pollock reacts to the news by freaking out.
Lee recognizes a bit of genius in Pollock's work that few others see, and since she knows everybody who's anybody in town, she uses those connections to advance his career. In her own flinty way, Krasner rejects that and tries to transcend it. Yet, she believes in Pollock so much she's willing to subordinate her own advancement for his. What she endures you wouldn't wish on anyone. Harris' Pollock is full of childish self-centeredness, alternating between drunken ingratitude and whimpering, regretful sobriety.