ARCHIVES for The Media Magnate:  2009, 2010.
 
2009 Film Review - Watchmen
 
April 1, 2009
By Eric M. Scharf
 
I have been a comic book fan for years, particularly of those books that successfully marry quality visuals and robust story-telling, filled with one gut-wrenching irony after another, where vulnerability and humanity are always right on the heals of the impossible and the unimaginable.

I have been waiting for just as many years to see the film industry finally develop the nerve, or be convinced of the financial incentive, to begin bringing many of those grittier, more mature, comic book-derived themes to the silver screen.

The transformation I speak of began the moment the Green Goblin cut Peter Parker’s forearm in “Spider-Man” in 2002 . . . showing fans everywhere that superheroes are human and affected like everyone else.

“Batman Begins” arrived in 2005, reintroducing Bruce Wayne to society, both new and familiar. We see him struggle to come to grips with his own mortal limitations in being unable to protect those closest to him, even with all of his inherited financial might. He discovers his ultimate solution, however, on his way down a destructive and terminal path, which allows him to combine his formidable fighting skills and material resources while requiring only one small thing of him: become more than human without becoming inhuman. Can he maintain enough clarity to remember where to draw the line between being a vigilante hero for the people and becoming the very villain(s) he has sworn to stop? How dark will he become? The “Dark Knight,” indeed.

“300” bludgeoned its way into our lives in 2006, taking grit to an entirely new level and creating a potential new wave of history teachers, even if the history portrayed in this film was admittedly enhanced for our pleasure. The mere existence of this film alone, with all of its bare feet and bloody battles, has me convinced that I will be none-the-poorer if I never see another bogus horror film again.

And the term “graphic novel” will never again simply be defined as a double-sized, higher-priced extension of good ole’ fashioned comic books. Everything about a graphic novel, from size to price to quality of paper, illustration, shading, and ink colors to depth of visual and story content, is and will continue to be different and greater.

Other comic book-based films, such as Iron Man in 2007, have taken a milder, more sterile approach in adding to the film industry’s “personal growth” experience. And, to be clear, not all comic book-to-film adaptations need to be or should be battle royals. The more variety there is in film adaptations, to match the variety of their comic book source material, the better. I simply wish to watch one of these adaptations and leave the theater believing that these stories, events, and characters are possible and even real, especially in the case of a human dressed as a costumed crime fighter. And who among the millions of comic book fans would not wish for the same thing?

No such film, however, has gone for the gusto in the same way as has been achieved by Watchmen. There was plenty of incentive to see this film, and considering the same director who helmed 300, Zack Snyder, was steering this ship, there was additional intrigue to see if Mr. Snyder would, again, push the envelope or be asked to back down by film execs, fearful of an always-possible public backlash for another R-rated graphic novel adaptation.
 
After all, there is always someone “out there” who will be screaming “Is it not enough that we know good ole’ Dagwood likes big sandwiches? Do we really want to know the kind of mammoth meat contained in his sandwiches, too?” Why, yes, we do.

 
 
 
I had never more than skimmed the 12 comic book 1986-1987 Watchmen mini-series, for all of my professed comic book devotion, and this deviation from my routine served a purpose, allowing me to view the film with a clear and open mind, devoid of pre-existing standards that haunt everyone who decided to turn its many pages.

Before I delve into the film’s story (or, in the case of Watchmen, group psychological evaluation), I will state that the visual quality is top notch, delivering a satisfyingly immersive experience, with characters you can reach out and grab, grimy surfaces you can touch, blood, sweat, and tears you can feel, jet fuel and bad breath you can smell, and gritty, emotionally-charged voices you can hear.

I also appreciate the mix of slick-modern superhero costumes and trench-level “get it done” outfits. Some heroes need to look the part while others just look at you and say, “Bring it on.” I also enjoyed the brief appearance of Ozymandias’s genetically-engineered pet lynx, Bubastis (and, if it was a Ferengi from Star Trek, someone would have said “Nice lobes”).

 
My only visual reservation is with how Dr. Manhattan is “rendered” in 3d. While I can genuinely appreciate how hard it is to generate a photo-realistic 3d character that is illuminated like a blue fluorescent light bulb, the approach being utilized actually diminishes some of the natural depth-creating shadows and contours that make a 3d character believable within an environment. An effect as subtle as this one can be the missing link between a 3d character completely fitting in with other real actors, and standing out like a sore thumb.
 
While it appears a real actor is being used in a few close shots, the intense blue glow effect has literally been turned off, thus, working in reverse to disconnect a well-embedded character from everything else in the scene due to the missing effect. My comments may be ticky-tacky, but whether you are standing in a room next to a pink elephant or a glowing blue man, in this day and age with such powerful visual technology and big film budgets, you want to believe it is real, and you expect to see rather convincing proof. Now, let the story profiling begin.

 
The story takes place in an alternate universe, in 1985, where the United States is still embroiled in the Cold War with U.S.S.R., Nixon is still President of the U.S., and, with term limits abolished in part due to his success in Vietnam, he is on his fifth term in office. Tensions are as high as most Americans can remember, the doomsday clock is set at five minutes to midnight . . . and nowhere in sight is the statement “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”

 
Vigilante superheroes, in the flashback lead-up to 1985, happened on the scene and grew in prominence from 1940 through 1960, culminating in their much-needed participation in the U.S. winning the Vietnam War. Soon after, the superheroes learn that, unless they are willing to work for the U.S. government, they will effectively be legislated into retirement through the Keene Act. War-time appreciation, when it exists, certainly has its limits.

The core plot is established in the midst of this retirement, when an established super hero-turned-U.S.-government-mercenary, called the Comedian, is brutally murdered. He puts up a valiant fight, but he is overmatched and tossed through the plate-glass window of his own high rise apartment, leaving a mess on the street below . . . along with one of his patented smiley face pins, stained with his own blood, tormenting his colleagues one final time.

 
The Comedian, as we come to understand him, is far less a literal comedian (with whom his colleagues can laugh at the expense of a common enemy) and far more a complete jackass who, with his Punisher-like combat skills, always seems to go two steps further than his government-issued orders, and who mercilessly hee-haw’s at the misery his actions cause.  He has no hero complex, he goes to work with a smile on his face, and he does not take kindly to anyone expecting him to take responsibility for his actions.

 
Nonetheless, torment turns to paranoia as the entire team of former Watchmen are now worried about their own safety, even hidden away in retirement, with the most incorruptible and relentless of them all, Rorschach, leading the search for truth and justice.  And it is only fitting for the most strong-willed of "The Bad News Bears" to make his triumphant return to the silver screen as the equally-willful and undeniable Rorschach.

 
The film adaptation of one of the most celebrated graphic novels of all time, at this point, is already drowning in grit, keeping the pedal to the metal for the duration, with the not so subtle reminder that time waits for no one and no good or bad deed goes unpunished. Ferris Bueller once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

The further Rorschach digs, the clearer the murderous trail becomes, the faster each event unfolds, and the more on-edge the vigilante heroes and film-goers alike become. The sad irony is that, while they are determined to find the answer for their fallen comrade and obligated to protect themselves from the very same fate, the closer the heroes get towards the source of their troubles, the closer they get towards questioning and even condemning themselves and their own humanity.

Further complicating the need for closure by the remaining Watchmen is that each of them is struggling with their place in society and humanity. Being superhuman makes you more human than human but only with the burden of responsibility that comes with extraordinary skills and amazing powers, which indirectly expose you to more human frailties.

These frailties force the Watchmen to lead their lives in near complete isolation, either through intolerance of lesser human beings, or their inability to properly manager their own special gifts, or their fear of losing those close to them due to their long list of enemies. The Watchmen have only each other to relate to and rely on in a world evidently not so richly endowed with super heroes. Each of them is desperate, in their own way, to grab onto something that is more than just their now-fragmented team, to belong to something that represents more than just an association of oddballs, and hold on for dear life (which is the common thread that weaves together most superhero stories).

And their government-enforced retirement has, essentially, displaced all of them, creating an internalized powder keg that grows by the day.

The Comedian, being a government-sponsored hero, is not restricted by the retirement rule, but he contributes to his teammates’ difficulties early and often, far in advance of his death. He follows his orders with such single-minded yet reckless focus that, by the time he finally came to grips with what he has “accomplished” on his missions, it is too much for him to digest all at once, causing him to crack and causing his government handlers to mercilessly “recall” him in the same way he heckled his targets and teammates alike so many times before. Live hard and die hard.

Rorschach, on the other hand, has never been empowered by opportunities to fight crime, whether as a government-approved superhero or as a vigilante. Rather, he has been energized by his all-consuming view of humanity as moral or immoral, black or white, with no interest in acknowledging the circumstantial gray space that exists in-between. And, it appears the life event that pushes Rorschach completely over the edge is the one where he proves unable to reach the kidnapped little girl from being dismembered by her captor, though you could argue that his quality upbringing was first in line for that honor.

It is ironic that Rorschach’s unique view of humanity is the single greatest obstacle to his mission of cleansing the world of immorality. The perfection, purity, and complete innocence he insists on seeing from people, does not exist in a form that would satisfy his definition (especially in our reality). If Rorschach allowed himself to see that his cleansing mission would take him well beyond his daily quota of “one street corner at a time,” he would beg to be put out of his misery at that very moment. I refer to such a moment a little later.

Rorschach’s perspective on humanity makes for an odd-if-intriguing pairing with Nite Owl. They both prefer to, first, investigate the scene, but that is where the similarities end. They appear to accept each other without much precondition, and, without verbal acknowledgement, they agree to disagree on how to best approach the very people they have vowed to protect from evil. Sledge hammer and hunting knife. Rorschach and Nite Owl.

 
Nite Owl’s situation, for all of his complex technology, is the simplest but no-less frustrating. Outside of his technological nest (whether tinkering under his two-flat or in taking to the night sky in his aircraft), he is the capable but reluctant warrior who is completely uncomfortable in his own feathers-and-beak. It is as if his superior hand-to-hand combat skills count for nothing if he cannot involve the tech as well. And he has a defensive mentality, which explains why Nite Owl seems content to allow Rorschach to be the work horse, while he is more of the diagnose-and-react hero.
 
Nonetheless, even with Rorschach breathing down his neck to help solve the Comedian murder for the greater good of the team, it took his jump-started relationship with Silk Specter to give him the confidence and the urge to finally break out of his rather impotent daily routine, succumb to his burning desire to resume the role of Nite Owl, and attempt to make a difference alongside his fellow vigilantes.

 
 
 
Silk Specter is the one hero who reminds me of a child who is quite literally shoved down a specific career path by their parents even though that child may never have been interested or had any desire to pursue it. Silk Specter’s mother was determined to see her daughter follow in her crime-fighting footsteps. She certainly has the same refined-and-deadly fighting skills to put the bad guys in their place, and she looks good doing it, too.
 
Silk Specter's mother, however, operated as a crime fighter during a time period when liberal women were still not a welcomed part of society. Her mother, in her own way, empowered women everywhere to believe in the possibility that they could stand up for themselves, accomplishing more than just the status quo of the time.
 
Laurie Juspeczyk, the second Silk Specter, may be related to Sally by blood, but she does not share the same historical crime fighting connection or the same representative weight of women’s lib. Consider that, when the Keene Act forced retirement on all costumed vigilantes, if it is not for the fact that she is Dr. Manhattan’s love interest, then, without any spark with Nite Owl, and with no true relationship with her estranged mother, she is potentially out on the street. She is quite literally the Watchmen’s mutt.

Add to this her perception that Dr. Manhattan, the love of her life, is quickly losing his humanity and, in turn, any desire to spend the rest of it with Silk Specter, and she really is alone in the world. Until Silk Specter hooks up with Nite Owl, even just to commiserate, there is an element of “all dressed up and nowhere to go” to her existence.

Never to be confused with Dr. Detroit, what does the most brilliant-and-powerful entity known to humankind do to remain interested in Earth and its inhabitants? Does it matter that Dr. Manhattan spends half of the film transporting around town without a loin cloth? If you ask him which he prefers – boxers or briefs – you might discover that, when you wield as much infinite power as he does, the material needs of humanity (clothing, shelter, and transportation) no longer have any meaning.

The end of his relationship with humanity begins the very moment scientist Jon Osterman is transformed into Dr. Manhattan, by way of being trapped within an “Intrinsic Field Subtractor,” within the army base where he and his colleagues perform their nuclear physics work. The film depicts his body being disintegrated on the spot, without a trace. Time passes, people grieve, and, then, suddenly, various elements of his body begin reappearing as if lighting strike hallucinations, and with each strike, more elements compose themselves and come together, until, finally, he is whole once more.

A “traditional” comic book story would have the audience believe all is well after such a mind-bending experience; that our subject has transformed from a slow-moving caterpillar into a wind-swept butterfly without so much as cough or a sneeze. The experience of being a human being is still very fresh in Osterman’s mind.
 
The idea that Osterman does not run off, insanely, into the wild fluorescent blue yonder is both impressive and unexplainable (Snyder was wise to avoid such a potential scene). Osterman’s assumed and understandable confusion also speaks volumes as to how utterly distracting it must be to suddenly be able to see both his future and his past, as well as view the universe and its ingredients on any level he can imagine, all at once.

 
Osterman succumbs to the “welcoming arms” of the Department of Defense, assuming his desire to blunt his own confusion and receive guidance on how to handle his new-and-terrifying abilities. All the DOD asks for in return is his willingness to help his countrymen in times of war, to further their weapons development efforts, and to give them his “naming rights,” and he is thusly named Dr. Manhattan.

It is clear, however, that Dr. Manhattan does not take long to grasp the full range of his incredible powers, and the achieved control that follows this knowledge invokes the ultimate responsibility of which I spoke earlier. He can be oblivious or of determined purpose to humanity, he can be good or evil to a race of beings that now reside on a completely different plane of existence.
 
This concept conjures memories of Galactus, the Beyonder, Thanos, Darkseid, and the Watcher: all incredibly powerful comic book entities, on an intergalactic scale, and each with a different approach to using and maintaining their special powers . . . whether or not that involves synthesizing planetoids for consumption, toying with the lives of simple beings, wreaking impossible havoc, causing merciless death, or being a docile observer of the universe sworn against interference.
 
And like his cosmic counterparts, Dr. Manhattan, too, ultimately needs to be isolated from humanity in order to truly live. Who would have thought that when you get too big for your own britches, you end up having to leave your home world behind . . . rather than just purchasing a larger pair of pants?

Long before Dr. Manhattan determines, however, that he no longer has a place among the human race, he has a number of opportunities to halt questionable or even horrific actions by both his teammates and his government, and, yet, he chooses not to involve himself. This is simultaneously unconscionable and understandable.
 
And for all of his immense power, how can anyone accuse Dr. Manhattan of being cold, selfish, or irresponsible in the face of an inhuman act when he, himself, is enduring an ever-increasing struggle to maintain what is left of his humanity? He knows right from wrong, and he knows he can make the biggest difference in a safer future for humankind. He knows the U.S. and Russia are on the bleeding edge, and, yet, as Ozymandias says, “Not even Dr. Manhattan can be everywhere at once.”

 
Ozymandias is the one Watchman who has no need to close-off his life or hide his true identity, as Adrian Veidt, from the public. Ozymandias has made an incredible business and financial empire for himself, generating exponential insulation from almost anyone on the planet, public or private. Ozymandias has absolutely nothing to loose, while his colleagues continue to watch their backs even in seclusion.

There is still one thing that vexes the great Ozymandias, even with his freedom from the anti-vigilante rat race. What does the most brilliant human mind on Earth do to scratch an incredibly irritating itch? He provides two national super powers with an “unbelievably convincing incentive” to establish world peace . . . by using devastation seen only in a nuclear holocaust.

He used Dr. Manhattan’s inner-struggle to belong, and his very existence, as the perfect alibi to do the unthinkable in destroying the east coast of the U.S., because, in the end Dr. Manhattan proved to be three very important things: impervious to any of modern man’s weaponry, unfeeling in the face of any unbridled fury aimed at him by humanity, and, by film’s end, completely disinterested in humanity’s existence.

 
Ozymandias’s choice, however, leaves those few who would have followed his lead, those few who now know the truth, in a position where they can never trust him again. Ozymandias has degenerated himself from being the most brilliant human on Earth to a person terminally desperate to find the ultimate peace-brokering solution. He determines there is no better choice than to ruin the good name of the most brilliant, powerful, and docile being known to humanity in the galaxy, encouraging the world to believe that Dr. Manhattan has murdered millions of his own countrymen in a fit of rage (as a cover for another blast from the “Intrinsic Field Subtractor”), just so that the threat of nuclear war could potentially be stopped forever.

It is truly sad that such a brilliant mind succumbed to the very brutal ironies I mention at the top of this review. Ozymandias wants to save humanity from the potential of total annihilation, taking measures that would only exist within the nuclear holocaust he seeks to prevent, and, yet, he is performing this act for a society he loathes.

Consider that Ozymandias has also come to this deadly conclusion to excuse himself for failing to find a peaceful solution to bringing humanity together. He must feel as limited and helpless as his normal human counterparts he despises. Then, again, with Dr. Manhattan’s exit, Ozymandias ensures that he will never be challenged by a superior intellect or higher authority again . . . even though it never appears to be his intention.

Through the irony of all ironies, Dr. Manhattan and Ozymandias deserve each other. Ozymandias uses tachyon radiation to block Dr. Manhattan’s visions of the future (his only weakness), and, yet, we have no way of knowing whether or not Dr. Manhattan had already seen the future before his visions were blocked. Thus, Dr. Manhattan could have, should have, but only might have stopped Ozymandias from making his devastating decision.
 
Dr. Manhattan could have also directly or indirectly prevented the Comedian’s death, and, by doing so, Dr. Manhattan could have also prevented his own final act on Earth from being the mercy killing of Rorschach . . . who felt totally betrayed when the brightest, most responsible human he knew, in Ozymandias, could no longer maintain his righteous separation from the abysmal humanity both of them loathed, and in which Dr. Manhattan no longer had any interest.

Superheroes, regardless of how powerful, always seem to be faced with the challenge of being more human than human without becoming inhuman. The Watchmen are doomed to self-destruction from the beginning, leading to inhumanity in the end, but this is not because they did not try mightily to avoid such a result.

Some filmgoers were anticipating “a superhero film for the sake of superheroes,” and Watchmen is not that kind of film. Other filmgoers wanted to see a film that properly honored the material on display in Alan Moore’s 12-book mini-series, and I say to you, “Good luck with that in a near 3-hour time span.” Still others were looking for a healthy mix of both as firmly planted in reality as possible. Just like viewing a Rorschach, everyone sees something different, and, in the case of Watchmen, everyone wanted to see something different.

Right or wrong, good or bad, fair or unfair, filmgoers should steel themselves for even more comic book adaptations that involve a marriage of two former foes: superhero wonderment and a real life scenario!