Despite the inevitable dissent among Watchmen fans, moviegoers, and critics, one thing is fairly certain: Zack Snyder did not butcher, destroy, or otherwise mangle the source material in his effort to convert the most respected graphic novel of all time into something acceptably Hollywood. Camera shots, lines of dialogue, and important plot elements were plucked wholesale from Alan Moore’s creation. The harsh, bleak atmosphere of a Commie-fearing America remained completely intact; the vast majority of the novel was represented faithfully on screen, and a mammoth extended edition will integrate even more material that couldn’t make the theatrical cut.
Of course, complaints remain, opinions will forever be mixed, and Watchmen certainly provides its share of disappointing elements for all its successes. Read on to find out what worked and what didn’t in the cinematic world of Watchmen.
What Watchmen Does Right
Rorschach – Outside of the film noir, voice-over narration rarely really works, and far too often it feels like a contrived or lazy way to quickly convey important plot information. Watchmen is a wonderful exception.
Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley) delivers his dry, gravelly account of New York’s descent into sin impeccably, dropping unnecessary articles to produce that trademark jarring, blunt assessment of the world. Haley’s portrayal of Rorschach brings the full brunt of the character’s cynicism and brutality to bear in a way I didn’t think would be possible for the film, reaffirming Rorschach’s place in the ranks of the all-time greatest characters in comic book history. And man, that mask — the constantly-shifting inkblot is simply mesmerizing in a way the comic couldn’t hope to match.
Nite Owl – In the graphic novel, Dan Dreiberg hardly seems like a once-upon-a-time superhero — he’s overweight, middle-aged, and more than a little awkward. On screen, he fares a little better — as portrayed by Patrick Wilson he’s younger, more vibrant, and not quite so heavy. The change to his character actually reflects a noticeable shift towards youth and vitality in Snyder’s Watchmen, and I’ll admit that something about his character is lost in the change.
In the end, though, dropping the paunch and a few weary middle-age years works for the character. Enough of the washed-up average joe remains in Wilson’s performance, and he delivers both a solid Dreiberg, bespectacled and tweeded out, and a kickass Nite Owl in a sleek, deadly costume, which makes for far more entertaining cinema than Moore’s out of shape hero.
Dr. Manhattan – I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but there’s just something about Billy Crudup’s soft-spoken delivery that enhances the appeal of any powerful character he portrays. Maybe it’s that dichotomy between Dr. Manhattan’s infinite, deadly abilities and his delicate, oh-so human voice. But Crudup’s performance alone doesn’t bring Dr. Manhattan to life — it’s the incredible special effects that truly transform him. That consistent blue glow that bathes the other actors in an eerie light and those milky-white eyes make Crudup’s character a dead-on match for Moore’s creation.
The Comedian – Edward Blake’s death in the first moments of Watchmen kicks off the story, sending Rorschach on an investigation that eventually leads to the unearthing of Ozymandias’ plot. Despite being dead for the entirety of the story, The Comedian regularly shows up in flashbacks, and it gradually becomes apparent that he is the lynchpin to the complex situation. As the film clues us in on the events Blake took part in over the decades that make up Watchmen’s backstory, it also peels away layers of his character, and Jeffrey Dean Morgan absolutely becomes The Comedian — smirking, malicious, bloodthirsty and cynical. He represents the spirit of Watchmen to the core, a depressing depiction of humanity who sees the worst in people — and in himself — and basks in the debauchery until it consumes him.
Tone – Alan Moore’s Watchmen remains consistently serious over its 12 chapters, telling an intricate tale with realistic characters and a plot more structured and deliberately, delicately paced than nearly any other comic book ever written. Even Rorschach’s joke about Pagliacci the clown reflects the graphic novel’s bitter sentimentality, turning comic relief into a means of showing how utterly hopeless life truly is. And while Snyder’s adaptation retains the adult plot and impending doom of nuclear Holocaust, the tone is noticeably different.
Ironically, the film version of Watchmen feels more like a comic book than its paper-and-ink counterpart, a change that undoubtedly irks the majority of Moore purists, to say nothing of the author himself. Pop music, a caricatured Nixon and raucous action scenes all populate the movie. And for the most part, they make it a considerably more enjoyable experience. By taking itself just a little less seriously than the original work, Watchmen manages to turn incredibly difficult source material into something entertaining and watchable, while leaving the adult narrative more or less intact.
Music – Watchmen’s soundtrack is as awesome as it is unexpected. The marginally less serious, comic book feel of the film allows for music that connects key scenes with a relevant piece of pop culture or simply fits the vibe of the moment. Bob Dylan and Simon and Garfunkel are the last things that come to mind alongside a comic like Watchmen, but they add emotion and energy to scenes in a way that printed material, quite obviously, cannot. A more traditional, solely orchestral score would’ve been playing it safe, but the pop songs show a unique awareness of the historic periods the film moves through. And that part when Archie bursts through the Antarctic ice and carves a groove into the snow in time with the wailing guitar of All Along the Watchtower? Oh yeah.
Slow motion – Given that Snyder’s previous film, 300, was built upon a foundation of gratuitous slow-motion, I expected to see a repeat performance in Watchmen. The trailers painted a grim picture, but Snyder toned it down for the full feature, and by and large the slow motion remains in its appropriate place, improving the action scenes instead of slowing them to a ridiculous crawl. Each fight scene feels appropriately kickass, balancing Snyder’s trademark style with a welcome healthy dose of moderation.
What Watchmen Does Wrong
Ozymandias – He’s the smartest man in the world. The fastest man in the world. His grand, evil scheme is really a genius plot to save humanity. Unfortunately, Snyder’s Watchmen cuts Adrian Veidt’s screen time down to his essential scenes and crams his backstory into a portion of the film that robs it of its effectiveness. Matthew Goode simply can’t carry the character, and his portrayal of Ozymandias invokes none of the elegance, eloquence, or human appeal it should. And the dramatic revelation of his guilt hardly delivers the gut-punch of surprise it should — how could it, when Goode comes across as cold and arrogant and his black costume practically screams menace?
Silk Spectre II – Like Nite Owl, Silk Spectre II sheds a few years for the film adaptation of Watchmen, and Malin Akerman looks mighty fine in that black-and-yellow latex. Too bad that’s just about all she does. While there’s still enough left to Dan Dreiberg after his Hollywood makeover to retain an appealing character, Laurie Jupiter is stripped of all the little flaws that make her interesting. She no longer smokes; she’s no longer depressed or temperamental; she looks just as young and vibrant in the film’s present as she does in its flashbacks. And without those flaws, Laurie becomes the shallowest member of the main cast. I’m not sure if the majority of the blame lies with the script or Malin Akerman’s performance, but the end result is a flat, weak character.
Rorschach and the psychiatrist – We’ve already established that Rorschach exudes awesome in almost lethal doses, and the film adaptation brings him to life perfectly. That said, I was disappointed to see his time with Dr. Malcolm Long cut short; in the original story, Malcolm plays an important role in Chapter VI, and Rorschach’s blunt cynicism gradually breaks down the psychiatrist’s cheery optimism. We see the world through Malcolm’s eyes, and his own transformation at the figurative hands of Walter Kovacs’ psyche exposes us to the full brunt of Moore’s bleak depiction of human existence. It’s Rorschach’s finest moment, and would likely be the first scene I’d choose to have added to an extended adaptation.
Minor inconsistencies – When dealing with such a complex story and the time constraints of a film conversion, some things aren’t going to work out quite perfectly. A few remnants of the story remained intact when they really shouldn’t have, resulting in weaker scenes lacking the thought-out precision of Moore’s work. In the graphic novel, The Comedian discovers Veidt’s master plan accidentally while investigating the island housing the faux-alien giant squid. But in the film, there’s no such justification for his unearthing of Ozymandias’ intentions. Veidt’s giant lynx, Bubastis, was meant to be a holdover of his genetic experimentations in that same project, but that plot thread is entirely absent from the film, leaving the animal’s existence unexplained.
Rorschach’s confrontation with Moloch also suffers from the conversion, as much of their interaction is cut from the film. In the comic, Rorschach tells the retired villain to drop a note requesting a second meeting, should he remember any useful information. With that sequence of events missing, Rorschach’s convenient arrival at Moloch’s apartment, just in time for Veidt’s trap, makes little sense. And the office of the New Frontiersman newspaper only shows up in the film’s final moments, which makes Rorschach’s decision to give them his journal some 20 minutes earlier especially vague.
Nudity – The nudity in Watchmen is a tricky subject. On the one hand, the film deserves considerable respect for not flinching from male nudity and staying absolutely true to Dr. Manhattan’s comic book depiction. On the other hand, the significance of his nudity as a symbolic detachment from everyday society isn’t referenced, and I’m not sure anyone really wanted or needed to see quite that much blue wang. Even the sex scenes between Laurie and Dan appear goofy and poorly handled.
While artist David Gibbons drew plenty of scenes with nude characters, the inherent difference in detail between a comic book and a live-action movie shifts the focus considerably. When there are naked people on screen, it’s hard, if not impossible, to pay attention to something else, and the film simply couldn’t convey the same degree of subtlety as Gibbons’ art. That not-quite-so-subtle tone worked for nearly everything in Snyder’s Watchmen, but not so for the nudity.
The Mobile Suit Gundam movie trilogy is, I think, the Japanese equivalent of Star Wars. The analogy works on all sorts of levels — Gundam is a set of three movies; Star Wars is a set of three movies (the original series, anyway). Each advanced the genre of sci-fi thematically and visually — Star Wars affected an entire generation of moviegoers, and the iconic design of the RX-78 Gundam can still be seen echoed in anime to this day. Both trilogies were spawned in the closing years of the 1970s, although the film version of the 0079 saga saw release in the period of time between Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi’s run in theaters. Finally, both managed to tell a story that is epic in scope and yet deeply personal, balancing the fate of billions with the struggles of a select few. Ultimately, this is what makes them timeless.
