Much has been made about Watchmen‘s cultural status as the seminal graphic novel. For those who have read the comic, its strengths are clear. The novel is ambitious in scope and weaves together multiple storylines – told through detailed panels, diary entries, fictitious book excerpts and newspaper headlines. All of this culminates in an intensely rich story about an alternate America where vigilantes, sociopaths, and physicists dress up as costumed heroes to protect society. That these “heroes” are so far removed from our conception of iconic comic book superheroes is the strength of the graphic novel. It strives to understand the psychology of people willing to hide behind masks in order to protect society from itself and not necessarily from supervillains. The novel’s attention to detail and narrative complexities was thought to hinder it from ever being fully realized on film.
Finally, after years of anticipation and hand wringing, Zach Snyder, the director of the monstrosity that is 300, delivers to the eager public his vision of Watchmen. That vision, unfortunately, hijacks Alan Moore’s opus and renders it flat and lifeless. So what, you ask, is the point of seeing a film that faithfully transplants the original story into moving pictures? The answer, truth be told is this: there is none. Fans of the graphic novel will appreciate the loving details but will miss the subtext—the gravitas of the entire series as a whole. For those who have not read the novel, the film will feel confusing, bloated and generally meaningless.
Yet, the film opens strongly enough, with an aging former superhero named The Comedian (Jeffery Dean Morgan) beaten to a pulp by a shadowy figure and then thrown out of a high-rise apartment. What follows is a pulp-noir murder investigation in which Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley), another hero who hides his face behind rag that displays moving ink-blots, decides that there is a vigilante hunting down former costumed heroes for nefarious purposes. In the world of Watchmen, costumed heroes have been outlawed by President Nixon, who is serving in his fifth term in office due to overwhelming popularity since winning the war in Vietnam. The graphic novel and the film explain that victory was achieved due to the U.S.’s ultimate weapon, Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup), a former scientist who has genuine superpowers after a government physics experiment goes horribly wrong, leaving him irradiated, glowing blue and able to manipulate time and space simultaneously. Rounding out the large cast is the nimble, but glassy-eyed dominatrix Silk Spectre II (Malin Akerman) and Dan, a.k.a. Nite Owl (Patrick Wilson), a hapless do-gooder left to recall glory days with an aging drinking buddy. The cast is large and plot even larger, so it is sufficient enough to say that the heroes have to band together to stop whoever is bumping them off, while trying to stop nuclear Armageddon between the U.S. and the Soviets.
What results is a film spread over 2 hours and 41 minutes that faithfully adapts all the best parts of the graphic novel but adds very little of its own ideas. What Zach Snyder does add to Watchmen is his insipid and liberal use of alternating super slow motion and real time speed to action scenes that repeatedly end with a splattering of blood. Just like his previous film, 300, the results are thrilling during the first fight sequence but they quickly lose momentum when consistently employed. The constant starting and stopping of action ends up making the fight scenes feel long and pointless. What’s more confusing is the notion that even though these heroes don’t possess superpowers, they disarm and disembowel their foes without getting so much as a scratch on themselves. As a result, there’s never any real sense of danger or risk associated with these people. The Dark Knight was much better at presenting a hero who could be dangerous and brutal but also vulnerable to attack. In Watchmen, fighting crime never looked so easy.
What’s worse however, is the use of pop music for crucial, “emotional” scenes. Snyder and his team fail to capture the sense of portend and anxiety by mixing songs that are so beloved and associated with other films that they have the effect of stripping any emotion from the scenes they are used in. I can’t help but think of The Graduate when I hear Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Sounds of Silence” or of Grosse Point Blank during Nena’s “99 Luftballons”. Apparently Snyder has never seen these movies. Perhaps the silliest of all music cues comes during an unintentionally hilarious sex scene between Dan (Nite Owl) and Laurie Jupiter (Silk Spectre), who have a way with each other to the pained wailing of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” I apologize if I’m out of line but I couldn’t help but think of Shrek. I understand the significance of the scene, and yet I can’t take it seriously. Dan is impotent with fear and indifference as a retired hero. After he and Laurie save people from a burning building, Dan’s masculinity is regained…but come on, “Hallelujah”? I guess this level of emotionally maturity is to be expected from a filmmaker who seems more interested in filming hacksaws severing arms or chopping skulls.
It’s too bad because the one sequences that really works hints at what might have been if Snyder and his team and paid more attention to telling the story and revealing character, and less on blood and mayhem. This one sequence involves Dr. Manhattan’s self-imposed exile to the planet Mars. There, he ponders whether the human race can be saved or is worth saving and he recalls his accident, which left him aware of the future and the present simultaneously. The sequence uses flashbacks, flash-forwards and montage to tell, what is essentially, an abbreviated origin story. It’s the one sequence in the film of emotionally honesty. More of these would have been welcome because as is, Watchmen is a film bloated by its own selfish desire to get its rocks off. It’s no wonder Alan Moore refused to give his blessing. Apparently, Snyder is putting back another hour of material for the DVD. Here’s hoping there’s more story and less slow motion.
Richard Saad
© Cinephile Magazine, 2009