Currently Sounds of Silence By Simon & Garfunkel And in the naked light I saw/10,000 people maybe more see related

Here's the thing: if you don't care about comics, this is not directed at you. If you're not a cinephile, this is not directed at you. If you really just couldn't care less, this isn't about you. However, for the many out there who consider themselves fans, nuts, freaks, geeks, nerds, afficionados, then yes, you are an ass for not liking Watchmen. Now don't get me wrong, I have no animosity towards people who don't share my taste, opinions, etc. I'm not so broken as to believe that an attack on something I appreciate is an attack on me (I ain't Rorschach). I just say, with all due respect, that you're an ass without an appropriate  appreciation for what film can be.

I don't think Zach Snyder is the Fellini of popular culture. I think he's a competent director with a nice level of passion for what he chooses to work on. All of his films thus far have been that: adequate, entertaining interpretations of other people's material. Which is, I believe, a director's strongest quality. Well, one of them. Dawn of the Dead was a joyous romp through zombie poppy fields, 300 was a testosterone soaked, violent masturbation (praise), and Watchmen was said to be unfilmable.

One complaint I've heard is that they changed the ending. This is laughable to me. The message at the end is perfectly reasonable, at least to me, and was a nice touch. But a giant squid? Alien attackers? That’s ridiculous, and it would have looked even more ridiculous on film. To savage the world in order to save it, to kill millions “(T)o save billions.” The greatest act of terrorism ever, designed to bring the world together. I personally think Ozymandias was destroyed by what he did. As Nite Owl and Silk Spectre (Laurie) are leaving, he cannot look at them. He will not fight against Nite Ow;’s onslaught, undoubtedly believing no amount of physical punishment could atone for what he has done. He sold his soul to save the world, will be tormented in this life and in the hereafter, for eternity. He martyred himself. He’s Jesus with a metaphysical arsenal.

Dr. Manhattan understands. Its telegraphed in his interview when he says there’s no difference between a living person and a dead one, that the atomic makeup is still the same. This is how he sees the world. He can summon just enough residual humanity to know that he, too, must sacrifice his existence on earth in order to save it. And in truth he’s fine with that. The Martian world holds far more interest to him anyway. Life is an annoyance, an irritant that can only be soothed by removal.

But lets talk about Dr. Manhattan (Jon) further. I believe Jon is tortured, haunted by the soul he’s close to losing. Its not that he really cares about losing it, but its continued presence is a nuisance. The accusation his mere presence is killing those he used to love tugs at his fake blue heart. His sudden belief that Laurie is a miracle seems tacked on, unbelievable, but it serves to give him his last moments of being a human before exile. His lust is gone, he tries to keep Laurie happy sexually but has little interest, doesn’t “know what stimulates” her anymore. His efforts to help those he used to care about is halfhearted, an attempt to keep the peace so he can go about his business. That and his origin kicks ass. How cool was it to see a glowing blue circulatory system walking around as he tries to reconfigure his human body. The mere existence of arms, legs, head, torso (and swaying blue cock) is probably just for appearances as well.

I’ve heard separate complaints about the Comedian’s apparent reversal. “He wouldn’t give a shit about Ozy’s plan,” someone said to me. Well, clearly he does. His confrontation with the retired villain Moloch proves it. He’s tortured about his own existence. Growing old has shown him that his life was one of terror, violence, misogyny, war. Aging makes us look back at ourselves, and we regret passed actions. He knew his death was coming, and he faced it like he always did, as a fighter. By the way, his confrontation with Jon, after shooting a Vietnamese woman carrying his baby, is hilarious. It takes a lot of balls to kill a pregnant woman, and then look at someone else and say, “You’ve lost your humanity.”

Nite Owl (Dan). Is there a more pathetic superhero in existence? He’s a terrified man, borderline impotent and a sap. He is Laurie’s fallback, a washed up crime fighter who really wasn’t that good to begin with. He’s (supposed to have) gone soft, lost his muscle and replaced it with a flabby exterior that masks his desire for helping the world. He has no superpowers, is a competent but weak fighter, and pales in the face of his adversaries (Jon, Ozy, the world). He is the underdog, doomed to fail yet persistent. He is a target at once for both contempt and admiration.

And Rorschach. Oh me, oh my, what can be said about Rorschach? To me he embodies all the archetypes on display. If you want to talk about torment (Jon, Ozy), a human suddenly fighting in a superhuman world (Dan, Laurie), paranoia and fear (Comedian), determination (all), he takes it. He is a simple man in a mask, devoted entirely to his work. And he’s badass. Plain and simple. The moment he becomes a three dimensional character for me is when he’s set up. The cops are outside, he’s trapped, and he freaks out. “No! No! No! No! No!” He’s terrified, and the hardboiled exterior gives way to the bullied, troubled kid he always was. And what does he do? Comes out swinging. He’s the noir detective, contemptuous of the world he is determined to save. Part of him wants the world to burn, so he can piss on the flames, but he still suits up every day to try and fix it in the only way he knows how. And the line, “I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me!” That sums him up. The world can kick him as much as it likes. He’ll still bite a piece of its cheek off.

The music as well works nicely. Music is my strongest passion, and there is nothing more powerful in film. The opening montage of a brief history of masked justice set to Dylan drew me in perfectly. The choice in music says things that can’t be shown, subtext with a melody. The times are a’changin’; its like a sledgehammer that you don’t notice. My only problem was “Halleluiah,” which is a wonderful song, but ironically I don’t like the version by the guy who wrote it. Leonard Cohen was a good writer, but his execution tends to leave something to be desired. I suppose the Buckley version is overused and expected, but its so much better I wouldn’t have minded. Also, I can’t help but be ecstatic to hear “The Sounds of Silence” coming out of giant surround sound speakers. The only way to listen to it in my opinion.

Now is the time for a confession, however. Its been a long time since I read the book, and I actually never read all of it. My problem with Alan Moore is that his books aren’t really that good. The ideas are there and range from decent to remarkable. But, like Cohen, his execution is too indulgent, or spare, or longwinded. I find it fascinating that he consistently breaks ties to adaptations of his work, yet two of the three movies based on his novels (V for Vendetta and this) have been far superior to the source material. I can’t cite his reasons offhand, probably something to do with artistic integrity, buggering his vision, or some other pretentious humbug that, most likely, boils down to him wanting to seem superior to others. But, that is just speculation, and I cannot say for certain. I do, however, wonder if he receives any money, or if his integrity is strong enough that he will forego restitution.

The last complaint I can think of is the overuse of violence in the movie. It was surprising to see mobsters entrails and skeletal remains hanging from the bloody ceiling (a scene, I believe, is a direct steal and homage to Akira), but so what? Snyder enjoys ultraviolence. I do too. I think violence is a perfectly reasonable artistic expression, utilized quite gracefully in this flick. Sure, humans are violent by nature, and this sort of thing is mildly exploitative, and it just gets worse, and blah blah blah. But let’s face it, one of film’s strengths is its ability to visualize action in real time. I’ve heard people bitch about the Watchmen-fu, and how Nite Owl wasn’t that good a fighter, and that he and Laurie weren’t so violent in the book.

But who gives a shit? I think it made a valid point. These people were crime fighters, they had to have some skills to not only protect themselves, but to end conflicts as fast as possible. That and who doesn’t love a good fight scene? I know some people are turned off by overt violence, and that’s fine, I respect that position. But I believe the fight scenes were pretty sparse and spaced out enough not to exceed what was necessary. Just enough to excite the audience at critical moments. 

And back to the ending. I personally think they whole “explain-my-plan-while-I-fight-these-guys-who-are-much-weaker-then-I” scene was kinda ridiculous. It was rote, and felt unnecessary. I also think it muddled the point about Ozymandias. He’s kicking his former friend’s asses so he can tell them they can’t stop him, its too late. I think a cursory brawl would have been more effective. And he goes from that to taking Dan’s wrath. Of course, even as distraught as he was, why would Dan keep fighting a guy who could rip his throat out before Dan could blink? Ah well, nothing’s perfect. Which is in fact my main point.

Perfection is a goal to strive for, not something to attain. How boring perfection is? What’s the point? Failure is always more intriguing, and it in fact heightens what was good to begin with. Besides, if the movie was perfect, what would us nerds talk about after the film? How long could our discussions possibly be? “Wasn’t it great? Just awesome!”

“I agree, not a flaw in sight. Let’s get some pie.”

Ultimately, I do not care what others think of Watchmen. I don’t begrudge them their opinion, beyond saying this: geek elitism is no less bothersome then any other form. To complain that “not all of the book was in the movie” is a ludicrous position, and should from henceforth be banned from critical discussions of film adaptations. To be upset that a favorite moment from the source material is a valid complaint, but to be pissed that every single moment is not incorporated into a film is to vastly misunderstand different mediums. Changing things falls close under the same umbrella. In this case I think it worked fine; if I had seen a giant squid teleported into Manhattan, I probably would have laughed my ass off, regardless of the body count. The change was not only practical, it was an improvement on the source. Scientifically created gods, fine. A giant squid attack bringing the world together? Bullshit.