Watchmen

WATCHMEN

As soon as I got in the car after watching WATCHMEN, I sent a text message out to close friends and family. Normally, I wouldn’t risk my life and the lives of fellow motorists by texting behind the wheel, but getting this message out seemed more important than life itself. If I happened to crash into oncoming traffic, ending my life and perhaps a few others, then so be it, as long the send button had already been pushed. Our deaths would be a necessary means to save the souls of the aforementioned “close friends and family.” As I learned in the WATCHMEN, sometimes you have to kill millions to save billions.

Thankfully, neither I nor any other motorists died that night. I sent the text off swiftly and successfully. Now I just hope and pray that the close friends and family members will heed the message, which read as follows:

I beg you all, for the love of whatever good is left in your soul, do not see WATCHMEN.

That text message, in essence, is my review of the film. And I would leave it at that, but I feel that in order to at least partially cleanse myself of this experience, I must expel some of the most painful memories. I’d like to expel them all, but I can’t possibly mention every little thing that was wrong about this film, because it would take hours upon hours to do so (perhaps years if I really got going).

Speaking of “hours upon hours,” I’ve never been to 2 ½ hour movie that feels like three consecutive nights. Perhaps it’s because the filmmakers try to cram nine different story lines into one movie (one for each character, plus one for each character’s mother, and a few for characters’ past girlfriends, boyfriends, pets, etc.). As if nine storylines aren’t enough, within each one of them are nine flashbacks that add hints of other storylines. Do the math on that, and you’ll realize you’ve got 81 separate storylines to follow – a severely difficult task, especially for your average comic book moviegoer, who usually doesn’t even want one storyline in his movie, let alone 81. Luckily, the use of super slow motion in every scene directs the viewer toward which story within the story he is supposed to be following at what time. Unfortunately, there are so many stories within stories that need attention called to them through slow motion that the scenes within scenes becomes incredibly slow, which makes the overall scene intolerably slow, which makes the movie so excruciatingly slow that you begin to think you’ve been there for three consecutive nights when you’ve really only been there for about 2 ½ hours.

In those 2 ½ hours, by the way, we somehow go from 1930 to 1985 (maybe I really was there for three consecutive nights). Obviously, that’s not an unprecedented amount of time to cover in a film, but it is quite the chunk. Maybe what is more baffling is not that the film covers six decades, but that it only uses songs from one of the six, no matter which decade the film is in. It’s as if they wanted to pull off the Forrest Gump thing, using iconic artists and songs to depict the era, but instead of using songs that were applicable to the times, they went with the most played out 70’s rock songs in movie history (All Along the Watchtower, Sound of Silence, The Times They are A-Changin’). Considering most of the film took place in 1985, they ought to have been playing Billy Ocean and Duran Duran.

In case you think I’m only harping on minor issues of the film, allow me to move on to the meat: performance, script, story.

Actually, the performances weren’t all that bad. I might even go so far as to say every actor gave a decent - good performance. Unfortunately, the characters themselves were so completely juvenile that even the most brilliant actor may as well have been trying to portray Barney in a serious light. The costumes were about that quality as well. At one point, I thought I recognized a pair of tights that I used to wear around the house playing dress-up at age five. And I know they got into my childhood costume box for Nite Owl’s goggles. And there was a serious casting mistake in Adrian Veidt. I’m I really supposed to believe that a 90 lb. Swede is strong enough to manhandle the Comedian, and wouldn’t “the world’s smartest man” have enough sense to get his hair cut by a competent stylist? I’ve never seen a more absurd hairdo, especially on someone I’m supposed to believe as a superhero.

While we’re on the subject of Mr. Veidt, I must mention is purple pet lynx, which has to be the worst CG character ever created, even surpassing the ridiculousness of one Jar Jar Binks. Take a bow, Jar Jar. You had a good run at the top. And actually, while you’re moving down on the list, you might as well go to spot #3, because Dr. Manhattan will be taking the #2 spot. Dr. Manhattan is basically a blue version of the Silver Surfer, but without the decency to cover his genitalia. I was so distracted by his glowing schlong wagging all over the place that I almost didn’t realize how ridiculous the rest of him was.

But even the lynx and Dr. Manhattan combined can’t compete with underlying themes so preposterous, it made me think Syriana was evenhanded. 1) People kill people because it is their nature, and 2) the world would be one giant commune filled with love and peace if the two superpowers, the U.S. and Russia were brought to their knees. I will not dignify either of those themes by attempting a response other than to say that they contradict each other. If people kill people because it’s what they do, then it doesn’t matter who’s in charge or if no one’s in charge at all. In fact, you might even take the first theme to justify the existence of superpowers, seeing as a superpower’s military might is the only thing to keep a murderous human population at bay.

Nice try with your political propaganda, WATCHMEN. Why don’t you go hang out with your purple lynx.


Douglas W. Bailey
dwadebailey@gmail.com