I felt lost and confused while first reading the graphic novel Watchmen some three or four years ago. It was dark and gritty and proved difficult to grasp initially.
I felt the same way after watching Zack Snyder’s film adaptation of Watchmen, but not just because of the film’s subject matter: as a work of cinema, Watchmen is at once perfect and flawed.
First published in 1987, Watchmen was a decidedly adult take on the comic book genre, set in a dystopian 1985 at the height of the Cold War, in a United States that had outlawed costumed vigilantes a decade earlier. It deconstructed the superhero by showing how men and women in gaudy costumes violently dispensing justice would function as real people in a real world. As such, the novel was visionary and groundbreaking, transcending comic book tropes to become a work of art with true literary merit.
Snyder clearly had his work cut out for him. As far as adaptations go, the film is nearly flawless. It recreates the graphic novel’s plot and cast almost exactly, featuring a motley ensemble of superheroes, from the reclusive outlaw Rorschach who refuses to retire, to the out-of-work Nite Owl who feels impotent (literally and figuratively) without his costume, to Dr. Manhattan, the only superhero with real powers, a godlike superman rapidly losing touch with his humanity.
Many (if not most) of the scenes and dialogue are lifted directly from the comic book, and as a fan of the graphic novel, seeing some of my favorite lines and frames repeatedly reproduced on the screen brought a smile of boyish glee to my face. It helps that the movie is as visually striking as the graphic novel originally was; the film’s alternate New York is a dark and dreary cesspool of corruption, the characters are costumed in vibrant hues, and each scene bursts with Easter eggs and nods to the graphic novel.
Unfortunately, when one looks at the film beyond its success as an adaptation, it stumbles. The acting is pretty uniformly mediocre, with groan-inducing, rigid dialogue sprinkled throughout. The exception is Jackie Earle Haley’s stunning turn as Rorschach, who, despite his psychotic nature, is made into a relatable and tragic character.
Snyder’s musical choices are also laughably over-the-top: “The Sounds of Silence” during a funeral and Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” during a sex scene—which is, incidentally, one of the most awkward sex scenes ever put on film—are just two examples. At times, the film feels rushed and vacuous, probably because the story was reduced to its bare bones to fit within the three-hour running time.
In the end, Watchmen is probably the best adaptation of the hallowed graphic novel we’re ever going to get, even if it doesn’t quite transcend genre to become a truly great film. Though it lacks the gravitas of its parent book, Watchmen is a pretty decent superhero flick. As long as you possess a bladder of steel and don’t mind occasionally rough acting and uneven pacing, you just might like it, too.
