Claremont Independent

Zack Snyder and company, invisible behind the roaring dialogue and poorly sound-tracked music on the theater screen, shouted, "love this!" And I looked on and whispered, "no."

Who knew that watching the Watchmen would be so… tedious? When the first trailer for Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' acclaimed graphic novel lit up theater screens last summer, the Smashing Pumpkins's "The Beginning is the End is the Beginning" pumping in the background, comic book fans shuddered with anticipation: After the overwhelming success of The Dark Knight, Watchmen seemed poised to be the next big thing in comic book, high art cinema. Anticipation, however, is not reality, as anyone who stood in line for the midnight showings of Star Wars I-III knows perfectly well…

For those not familiar with Watchmen, some explanation of the graphic novel on which it is based may be in order. Moore and Gibbon's twelve-issue comic book is, more than anything else, a deconstruction of the traditional superhero. Unlike typical comic book heroes like Batman, Superman, or Spiderman, the heroes of Watchmen are nowhere near objectively good: they include a right-wing sociopath (Rorschach), a nihilist (the Comedian), a Nietzschian demi-god (Dr. Manhattan), and a Machiavellian genius hell-bent on saving the world at any cost (Ozymandias). In other words, these aren't your grandfather's superheroes. The world of Watchmen is one of moral ambiguity and sinister undertones, a 1985 alternate-history United States where Richard Nixon is serving his fifth term as president and the US and the Soviet Union stand on the brink of nuclear war. Watchmen's action kicks off when Rorschach begins investigating the brutal murder of the Comedian, inaugurating a series of events that brings his costumed compatriots out of retirement to foil a wide-reaching conspiracy.

As a graphic novel, Watchmen is a thought-provoking, original portrayal of the idea and meaning of the superhero; as a film, however, Watchmen is unmoored from the immersion that the comic book provides, making it an exercise in frustration for anyone not already familiar with its twisting plot, non-linear storyline, frequent flashbacks, and divergent perspectives. For those either experienced or lucky enough to fully understand the plot, however, there lies a trap even worse than mere inaccessibility: For all its flashy effects - and, to digress for a moment, the film is visually stunning - Watchmen is often rather… boring.

Clocking in at a length of two hours and forty minutes, the film (like one of its heroes) simply can't keep it up. It tries to mix all the elements that made the comic great - suspenseful detective fiction, violent action, the philosophy of human existence - into a mentally, visually, and emotionally stimulating elixir; instead, it winds up with a sludge of mediocrity which a captive audience must drain to the dregs. When Dr. Manhattan began to proselytize about the nature of time, I may, may, have heard an audience member snore. If I wanted a philosophical discussion about my wristwatch, I'd turn to St. Augustine, not a bright blue demi-god who, for some reason, refuses to even telepathize himself into a pair of pants.

In its (usually futile) attempts to avoid tedium, Watchmen often verges into the realm of the patently ridiculous. Yes, I'm sure you've heard about it, but I am referring to the gratuitous sex-scene, in which Night Owl and Silk Specter get jiggy to a cover of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." Yeah, David might have played a "secret chord" (if you know what I mean…) but, please. This scene is little more than the film representation of a pimply, bespectacled 17-year-old comic-fan's wet dream, a desperate hope that the class hottie is hiding an interest in mythology, a thing for horn-rim glasses, and a mask fetish behind her bubble-gum pink smile and WonderBra.

Watchmen's acting is, at once, its crowning achievement and its fatal flaw; if this sounds like a contradiction, then you, dear reader, are not familiar with the extensive cast of characters that makes up the Watchmen universe. With six main characters and a host of secondary ones, it would be nothing short of miraculous if the movie's acting had been stellar. And, for the most part, it isn't. Movie-goers may have been wowed by Malin Akerman's figure in (or out) of a spandex suit, but any hopes that Akerman would bring a compelling performance to Silk Specter II's mommy issues were ground into rubble as soon as she opened her mouth.

Equally laughable is Matthew Goode's performance as Adrian Veidt (aka Ozymandias). Instead of the affable, kindly Veidt of the graphic novel - a man that the reader wouldn't be surprised to see leading an old lady across the street or preventing the clubbing of a baby seal - Goode's Veidt is anything but, well, good. With a monotone voice and a crazy, Ancient Mariner-esque look in his eye, the film version of Veidt clearly isn't playing with a full deck; to add insult to injury, the movie drops several hints that he is either gay or a pedophile (when Night Owl hacks Veidt's computer later in the film, take note of the file-folder labeled "Boys"). Without revealing too much of Watchmen's plot, I will simply say that a kindly, normal, lovable portrayal of Veidt was central to the graphic novel's shocking ending; the film destroys this essential pillar of Watchmen's mythos by putting the viewer on his guard against Veidt from the very beginning.

There is, however, a single bright ray of genius penetrating the gloom of the film's acting mediocrity, and this ray is Jackie Earle Haley. As Rorschach, Haley is everything that Watchmen fans could have hoped. From his characteristic grumble ("hurrmmm"), to his vehement, psychotic reprisals against New York's criminal element, Haley's portrayal mirrors the Rorschach of the graphic novel perfectly. A friend of mine described Haley's performance as the "first Heath Ledger moment of 2009," and, as the year is young, I would be inclined to agree. Director Zack Snyder should thank his lucky stars for the casting of Haley; his acting alone does much to redeem the film in the eyes of the viewer.

For all its faults, Watchmen is not a terrible movie. Snyder has made a valiant effort to remain true to Moore and Gibbons' original portrayal, with many of the film's scenes taken straight from the graphic novel. I would probably be forced to give Watchmen an "A-" or a "B+" for effort: the complexity of the Watchmen graphic novel is staggering, and it doesn't surprise me that a Herculean effort was required for the movie to reach the point that it eventually did. However, as I have elaborated, the film can hardly qualify as "good." Watchmen is neither the smashing success that many hardcore fans (and major reviewers) have claimed, nor is it a complete failure; it is simply a mediocre portrayal of a staggeringly thoughtful graphic novel. Snyder certainly reached for the stars when he took on the film adaptation of Watchmen; the question of whether he succeeded in broaching the atmosphere or whether he took a great idea and plowed it straight into a mountain is something, however, that the viewer can only decide for himself.

Jeremy Grunert CMC '09 is Arts Editor of the Claremont Independent.