Watching the Watchmen Ten Years Too Late

Zack Snyder's adaptation of the Watchmen, the "Citizen Kane of graphic novels," does not seem to be packing the punch it possibly should with critics or ticket-buying moviegoers. Why? I have my own theory, but more on that in a moment. I personally liked the film. I purposely chose not to reread the graphic novel before seeing it (it had been about five years since I read it the first time), so I could come at it with a fresh perspective. I decided to reread it after seeing the movie, and I very much approve of the changes Snyder made from the source material. The slight alterations in dialogue and the new ending all seem to be in favor of the characters. But enough about my opinion. I'm here to hypothesize why Watchmen isn't the the end all be all of comic book movies that the graphic novel is made out to be for comic books. After letting it simmer in my head over the past two weeks, I have come to the conclusion that Watchmen is in need of a time machine, or perhaps more appropriately, an alternate history.

Moore's Watchmen was a product of its time, a reaction to and pastiche of the comic books and politics of the 1980s. A "truly faithful" adaptation might have done the same for its own time period, yet Snyder's film seems to circumvent any real influence of the 2000s. Aside from the mostly stellar CGI, made possible only by the last decade of technological improvment, Watchmen more accurately reflects the aesthetics of the 1990s. The fight scenes, for instance, with their emphasis on physical, agile combat and slow motion visual effects, more accurately recall the action sequences of 90s movies like The Matrix (1999), Blade (1998), or anything by John Woo than the quick-cutting, handheld, "realistic" sensibilities of more recent films like The Bourne Identity (2002) or Batman Begins (2005). Heck, even the attempted rape scene resembles a bout between ninjas. Also, rather than sending up the countless superhero movies of the current decade, Watchmen seems more overtly fixated on parodying the Bat-films by Joel Schumacher. Ozymandias' costume is clearly a play on the outfits from Batman & Robin, complete with nipples. Thematically, perhaps this is appropriate, as Ozy the "mask killer" is nearly responsible for the death of costumed crimefighters, just as Batman & Robin almost killed the superhero genre. Furthermore, the song ironically used in the initial Watchmen trailer, "The Beginning is the End is the Beginning" by Smashing Pumpkins, comes straight from the Batman & Robin soundtrack. Where are all the Dark Knight references? How about an homage to Sam Raimi's Spider-Man or the X-Men films? Why so nostalgic?

Even the politics of Watchmen, with its alternate Cold War history and countdown to doomsday, only superficially connect with any sort of particularly relevant post-9/11 sentiment. Say Snyder's Watchmen was released in 1999 rather than 2009. The political aspects of the film, much more relegated to the background as compared to the graphic novel, would not necessarily be lost. The apocalyptic component could just as easily play to a potentially paranoid audience during the Y2K scare as a post-9/11 audience. There is also a level of cheesiness to the film that seems out of place in today's "lactose intolerant" culture of irony (please forgive the metaphor. I had to). The over-the-top fight scenes are more likely to inspire rolling eyes than oohs and ahhs. In terms of visual design, Ozymandias' Antarctic lair resembles the styrofoam pyramids of The Mummy (1999), not the impressive set pieces of Lord of the Rings (2001). Even lines like Silk Spectre's "You're such an asshole" didn't seem to play as well to my fellow audience as it might have a decade ago. It appears people were much more open to cheese in the 90s (see action-packed, one-liner-ridden, top-grossing blockbusters like Independence Day (1996), Men in Black (1997) or any of the movies from the previous Batman franchise).

Perhaps the ironic culture of today has moved to a position in which it is simply over the type of film that Snyder's Watchmen is, a fun action movie with a little cheese on top. Released in 1999, it might possibly have been the masterpiece an adaptation of the original Watchmen should be. Besides, it could have beaten Sin City (2005) and 300 (2007) to the punch with the whole direct translation of a graphic novel trend, and might have seemed more innovative and less tired. Instead, the film has opened to a lukewarm response by an unforgiving society with a low tolerance for camp. Watchmen's opening titles, without a doubt the best sequence of the film, suddenly take on new, extra-cinematic appropriateness. "The times they are a-changin'" indeed.

Watch That Man: Zack Snyder, Pater Noster of Geek Cinema

or, An Early Watchmen Review


Zack Snyder is very good at playing in someone else's sandbox, and he's even better when he's not behaving himself. His Dawn of the Dead (2004) remake had a wry sense of humor absent from the heavy-handed satire and genre slavishness of George Romero's own latter-day zombie efforts. On the other hand, his adaptation of 300 (2006), while a stylistic and technological triumph, hewed too closely to the truncated, juvenile Frank Miller source material to be interesting beyond all the spurting blood and slo-mo sex. It would be an immediate inductee into the Bland People's Favorite Movies Hall of Fame, if such a place existed (right alongside Wedding Crashers and Fight Club).

Approaching "Watchmen" (2009) might seem like "300" times ten, especially considering Synder's constant assertions that the film would look as much like the graphic novel as possible. Furthermore, Synder's demeanor at Comic-Con 2008 last July matched that of a man under an enormous amount of pressure, giving rambling non-answers to simple questions and being intimidated by a room of 6000 geeks who were nonetheless easily placated by a couple minutes of "exclusive" footage. But his deer-in-the-headlights performance also suggested a man completely consumed by making an enjoyable film out of a massively frustrating project with a two-decade turnaround.

My knee-jerk opinion is that Watchmen is quite good--very good, in fact, and better if you have read the graphic novel. But Synder's real coup is that he has made a film that will both intrigue and confuse Watchmen newbies, sending them to their nearest bookstore where Alan Moore's magnum opus is already flying off the shelves (Moore generally acts like a bridge troll whenever his material is adapted for film but I'm sure he enjoys the boost in his bank account). It is an odd movie in that the plot is nonexistent for nearly an hour. When that plot finally does creak into motion, it kind of pales in comparison to sixty straight minutes of character development. Like I said, this is an odd film--that is, odd for a purported action blockbuster--and I certainly didn't mind that the exposition upstaged the climax. The Watchmen are the only compelling reason to see this movie, which would otherwise resemble an expensive, R-rated Fantastic Four threequel.


I had the good fortune to be part of a screening that featured post-movie Q&A with the director, which I'm not sure the audience fully appreciated perhaps due to the length of the film and the general lack of geek cred. Though he doesn't reference it much anymore, Synder comes from the world of commercials. The best bits of Watchmen are, predictably, the ones that are most like mini-music videos (the opening credits are ingenious). We heard all about his storyboards and development process and other such pablum that one hears during these sessions. One fact Snyder mentioned, though, that probably doesn't make the junket circuit is that he is the father of six(!) ranging from 15 to 8 years old. He might be touted as a "visionary filmmaker" (front-runner for most misleading statement of 2009) but he is also a bona-fide, advanced-level Dad.

For some reason I find this crucial to understanding the movie. In Watchmen, way underneath all the sex and violence and depravity and darkness, beats the heart of a middle-aged parent with the keys to his comic book Corvette. Synder doesn't so much adapt the book as appreciate it from a distance. His touch may be too deft and fail to fully capture Moore's sense of paranoia and misanthropy, but in the best of all comic book movie worlds, the appeal of Watchmen's impossibly dark narrative to an amiable uber-father is a welcome development for moviegoers still struggling to get over the experience of being Schumacher'd.