Ten Deep 03.18.09: The Adaptations of Alan Moore

Posted by Lucas Huddleston on 03.18.2009

411's Lucas Huddleston drops some praise on the films adapted from Alan Moore, which can only mean one thing...Alan Moore hates this column. He spews venom all over it.

Hello, and welcome to Ten Deep: Week 24! Whew, last week was kind of a weird week for me, as it seemed that every time I turned around, I didn't HAVE any time, and the most amount of time that I DID have I spent at the theaters watching Watchmen. When I left for the movies, I figured, "Well, the movie is ‘x' minutes long, which means it'll get over at ‘such-and-such' time…" and so on and so forth, and essentially screwed myself. Most of the writing that I did for last week's column, Best Marvel/DC Animated Superhero Films, I had to write a little dab here, a little dab there. Apparently, as the old saying goes, a little dab WILL do ya, as I'm actually surprised I got as much done as I could. There were a few, however, that I wasn't happy with, if only because I had to rush through them (namely being my thoughts on Justice League The New Frontier and Hulk Vs.). I'm sure you guys must have noticed; I sure did, and it bugged the hell out of me. Oh well. Anyway, let's get some BRUCE stuff, from two weeks ago. First off, let me state that my ALL-BRUCE, ALL-AWESOME SPECTACULAR was fun for me to do…but I was only able to squeeze in about maybe a little over a third of what I had originally planned to do, as the whole centerpiece of the column was the My Name is Bruce review, but due to a freak snowstorm, was unable to actually get it until Monday…which caused me to procrastinate. But that's okay, because that gives me an excuse to do another Bruce-centric column in the future. It's truly win-win!

I was going to cover a few comments here from the past two weeks, but I've ultimately decided against that, as this week's column is rather lengthy, and, as such, I'm sure there's more than enough to read here without having to read comments as well. Enjoy...though I will say that Bruce Campbell as the Comedian would have indeed ruled. Next week, though, I'll get back to posting some comments, for sure.

I'm sure you might be sick of Watchmen stuff, but I'm a comic fan, so you know I have opinions on the movie. It's a week later than most, but that's ok...it gave me time to think about things. Also, just as a quick preface to this, I have chosen to ignore both The Return of Swamp Thing and Constantine as being adaptations of Moore's work. He did have a substantial run on Swamp Thing, putting the character back on the map, but I haven't seen that movie in years, so I'm not sure as to how much it adheres to Moore's run in the comics. As for Constantine, Moore created the character during his run on Swamp Thing, but never wrote for the Hellblazer line, and the plot from the film is adapted from a Garth Ennis storyarc from the comics.

From Hell (2001)



In the period of my life that marked the first time that I sat down and watched the film adaptation of From Hell, I had been out of comics for probably around a good five years or so; to put it in even more perspective, I hadn't bought a new comic since my pre-teen years, where the likes of the Hulk or the X-Men garnered all of my attention when it came to comics…in other words, an actual comic book in the vein of From Hell wouldn't have even registered on my radar of ‘comics to read' in that period of pre-teen boyhood. As I'd assume quite a bit of other people in the world were, I myself was drawn to watching the film version of From Hell for not only Johnny Depp, but for the Jack the Ripper subject matter, as the mystery behind those brutal serial killings from the turn of the 20th Century has intrigued me to no end since I first heard the name ‘Jack the Ripper' – not because of the comic book, because, quite frankly, I'd never even heard of the comic. So imagine my surprise when I realized that, AFTER I had watched the movie, From Hell had indeed been adapted from a comic book. Needless to say, I was even more intrigued, and not merely because of the Jack the Ripper storyline; just the mere thought of all that graphic violence, sex, and drug use in a comic addled my brain, as, clearly, I hadn't been reared on comics that utilized such methods. Flash forward about another five years or so, when, after over a decade of being ‘out of the game', so to speak, and had actually grown up a bit in my mind to the point where I finally, FINALLY realized that I shouldn't give a damn about what other people think, I began once again to buy and read comic books. Obviously, by this time I had learned of the name of one Alan Moore, and, through a little research, had easily came to recognize the fact that I should indeed be aware of, and on the constant hunt for, any and all of his work that I could find…and since the film version of From Hell had been the very first time that I had subjected myself to his name and anything even remotely resembling his work (however unwittingly I may have done so), the collected graphic novel of From Hell was at that particular time my Number One priority in regards to finding and reading Moore's work. As it was, the day came that, while visiting a friend of mine in Kansas City, my friend took me to one of several comic book stores that he frequents in the greater Kansas City area, and there I finally found it, a collection of Moore's From Hell series…much to my shock. Shock, you ask? Why ‘shock'? Well, because you should've SEEN the size of the damn thing as it sat there on that shelf, glaring at me, nestled away between two of your more ‘normal' sized trades that flanked From Hell on either side. Based ONLY on the width of their spines, placing those two trades on either side of Moore's work was comparable to propping two broom handles up against either side of a refrigerator, and that's not really even that much of an exaggeration on my part. Compared to all other limited series trades, the collected edition of From Hell was a veritable gargantuan; with ten issues that altogether clock in at a staggering 572 pages, which is monstrous for a comic, you could say that I was more than just a bit overwhelmed, even by merely looking at the thing.

Now firstly, allow me to go on record here as stating that I, for one, enjoyed the film adaptation of From Hell, as I enjoyed it before I knew that it was based on a comic book, and I enjoy it equally the same now as I did then, even after I had come to learn and understand a bit more about Moore himself, as well as the book From Hell. As its own film, I've never really found anything really all that offensive with the film adaptation, as the acting is all fairly solid across the board (with the likes of Depp and crazy Bilbo, how could it not have at least SOME good acting in it), the story that it weaves is fairly intriguing, it's never too terribly boring, and the directing duo of the Hughes Brothers delivers a film that visually appealing, being both beautiful and terrifying all at that same time. I would have said those things seven, eight years ago when the film was first release, and I still say those good things about the film now. However, as time has passed and my knowledge on the subject has indeed increased and expanded, I've come to realize the main problem that most others have with the film, and it's a rather sizable and wholly understandable complaint: whereas, as a film, From Hell is at least serviceable, as a direct adaptation…it's horrible. And it was through my realization of that tidbit that I came to further realize what the true inherent problem with adapting a singular work of Alan Moore's directly into a single film truly is – Moore's work is simply just too dense to properly adapt into a single film. In the case of the comic series of From Hell, Moore has compiled what could only be termed as a veritable tome, a vast and epically detailed work of which, clearly, no single movie could ever be conceived from it and possibly include all that Moore had wrought in the book. In fact, the film adaptation of From Hell proved that point quite well.

The film version of From Hell renders Moore's story into being little more than a police procedural piece, a mystery in the ‘whodunit' vein of things where the man behind the atrocities that are depicted in the film isn't revealed until the film's climax. The book goes about things quite differently, offering up just who the murderer is near the beginning of the thing. Like in the movie, the murder ‘plot', as it were, is perhaps a bit absurd and more along the lines of being a conspiracy theory, but, unlike in the movie, the emphasis isn't so much placed in the question of what happened, or who did it, in the book; indeed, as I said, the book comes out and tells us that straightaway. Instead, the book stands as going about in examining the query of why it happened, serving as not only a deep study in the character of the man behind the murders, but as a immensely layered look at various other themes, such as Moore's ideas on time and how it works, and also on the opinion that the Jack the Ripper murders stood as being the true mark that ended the Victorian Age. Of course, there's even MORE themes that Alan Moore delves into throughout the piece, all immensely detailed and laboriously plotted out…the book even has a section of appendices where Moore lists not only sources and things of that nature where he received his information and turned to for research, but what events that he went over in the book are factual and what are of his own imagination. Clearly, a single film based on From Hell could really only deliver a fraction of what the book offers up, and perhaps the only way in which a filmed adaptation of the work would be if it was in the form of a television series that ran for a couple of seasons, if not more. Still, even though the film From Hell was truly just a shadow of its source material, it remains to be enjoyable for me for the most part…though, clearly, it could never even approach being more than just that shadow of the book.

League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003)



As a writer, or at least as a person who has delusions of grandeur about being one, I'll happily admit that there have been quite a few times where I'll read a story or enjoy the plot of a film and think to myself, ‘I wish I'd thought of that first'. There are, of course, a lot of the more obvious things that pretty much EVERYBODY wishes they'd have dreamed up and acted upon before the actual creator did so, like, for example, Star Wars, even if it would be only for the gazillion dollars that it went on to earn. At various points in my life, I've sometimes fantasized about the thought of myself having created the likes of, say, Conan instead of Robert E. Howard, or James Bond, rather than Ian Fleming creating the character…and usually I do so not for the sole reason of the potential fame and fortune that would have possibly befallen me (nor even for the fact that it would have actually been published work), but for the simple reason that, well, I'd love to write stories about those characters that I love and NOT have it be mere fan-fiction. As such (and I'm sure you know where I'm going with this…), I think its safe for all to assume that I wish that I had been the one to dream up the concept for the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen first (even though at the time that Alan Moore dreamed it up, I was around fourteen or so). It seems like such a simple concept, in all actuality: take a cast of literary figures from Adventure/Horror/Science Fiction stories that were written and existed around the Victorian Age (or during it), throw them all together in one book, and create a new superhero team from the eclectic group. So simple, and yet somewhat brilliant at the same time, in my opinion. Again, this was another film that when I initially watched it in 2003, I had been unassociated with comics for years, so I really didn't have much of a clue as to who Alan Moore was, or what he'd written; what's more is that I, once again, didn't even realize that the film was based on a comic book…though it was quite clear that the movie was essentially dealing in comic book superhero archetypes while using well-known literary figures from the past.

And I liked the film, to be honest with you…though, with that being said, I should state that I have a soft spot in my heart for the ‘superhero team' films. Yes, I thought the X-Men films were a bit over-rated by some, but I still enjoyed them to some degree…even the third one, where my biggest complaint was the fact that the brains behind that particular film essentially shot their wad on the franchise in one massive stroke. Yes, I also found something to be enjoyed from the Fantastic Four movies, where my biggest complaint there is the fact the creators of those two movies absolutely wasted a potential great film by introducing and then getting rid of Galactus within a period of five minutes. I wouldn't say that those films were the best that the superhero film genre has to offer…but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't try to enjoy them. As far as I'm concerned, the same goes for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which I'm sure many disagree with me on that point. And how could I not find something to enjoy? In my junior high/high school years, I'd read Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, with Captain Nemo. I'd read Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I'd read Bram Stoker's Dracula, with Mina Harker. I'd read H.G. Wells' The Invisible Man. I knew who Alan Quatermain was by way of the old Richard Chamberlain films, and since I obviously read as well as hail from Missouri, of course I knew who Tom Sawyer was (I will admit, however, that I had no clue who Dorian Gray was at the time). The film essentially ended up being exactly what I wanted it to be: fun and action-packed. Of course, therein lies the problem with The League film as it pertains to being an adaptation; it's pretty much nothing like the comics. The film is a far cry from its source material in terms of its tone, atmosphere, and general conveyance of Moore's dark and twisted visions of the characters…but, then again, the film doesn't try to adapt the material directly from the book. Instead, the film is much more in common with the Spider-man films or the Batman movies, where instead of adapting a story from the comics directly, it merely uses the characters to put forth a new and overall different take on the comics and its characters. And in the end, perhaps that's all it should have been. Regardless, I will say that LXG stands as being a bit of a ‘guilty pleasure' film for me, and that's fine – it's fun a watch, as far as I'm concerned.

V for Vendetta (2005)



If ever you find yourself flitting around the world wide interweb only to stop at a comment/message board that's purpose is to serve in response to an Alan Moore interview where he lambasts Hollywood films by claiming that their want to adapt his work in comics to film stands as evidence of Hollywood's lack of original thoughts, you're bound to run into a comment/message on that board where an anonymous person reflects that same condemnation back towards Moore…the condemnation of unoriginality. Now, there are several logical schools of thought on the subject/argument; one, Alan Moore is correct, as Hollywood's need to adapt seemingly everything ever created that made a great deal of money and/or notoriety in a wholly different medium is largely unnecessary; two, Alan Moore is in the wrong, as Hollywood's need to adapt works from separate mediums, while perhaps unnecessary, has come to be completely expected on behalf of the audiences of the work, and, in many cases, demanded by them; three, Alan Moore just needs to sit there and not be so judgmental of his adapted works, as he can be found damning those that have been at least somewhat true to the source material that he created for being unoriginal, whilst at the same time damning those films adapted from his comics that took a turn away from the source as not remaining true to his original vision…thus creating a conflicting, almost hypocritical viewpoint on the matter; or four, the anonymous commenter is correct, believing in the idea that Moore's work does indeed contain more than a sliver of material lifted from prior artists. Now, I'll give my thoughts on the subject in a bit, but let's entertain that thought for a moment, the thought that the anonymous commenter is correct in his/her claims. From Hell utilized a plethora of theories, whether functional or flat-out conspiracal, about the what's, who's, and why's in regards to the near-mythical qualities of the Jack the Ripper murders…a plethora of ideas taken from others since the murders occurred. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen made use of a host of characters from 19th Century literature, and characters that were (obviously) created by other people not named Alan Moore. The cast of characters from Watchmen were utilized in much the same way as the cast from the League was, as nearly every main character within Watchmen is wholly based on characters from the old Charlton Comics brand of comic books (for example: Rorschach is the Question), and it was Moore's original intention to actually use those characters in the capacity that they existed in Charlton Comics at the time, though DC (which had bought Charlton Comics around that time) wouldn't allow him to use the characters proper. And, of course, we have V for Vendetta, which in many ways adheres to the blueprints/guidelines that embrace nearly all stories that take place in a future, dystopian society, particularly those that followed George Orwell's classic 1984. When one looks at it in that particular fashion, one could possibly see and understand a certain amount of legitimacy in regards to the anonymous commenter's claims as to Moore's own ‘unoriginality'.

My thoughts on the subject? Quite simply put, it's my personal opinion that creative people, in all walks of art, have indeed hit a particular snag after thousands upon thousands of years of human history where things like music, art, and literature have existed, a snag that, as it pertains to those subjects in the modern world, unfortunately render truly ‘unique' and ‘original' works to be frequently few and far between – but this especially holds true particularly towards ideas and concepts for formulating the basis for good stories. However, whereas the concept of a story (such as that of a story depicting a dystopian society) or certain traditional character archetypes may not be as original or unique in today's world as they once were in day long past, the true uniqueness of artistic ability/interpretation now lies NOT in the cosmetic material such as a character archetype itself or a world in which a story takes place, but in the way in which the creator utilizes those well-known concepts in order to put his/her own influence on such things and essentially bring forth something unique entirely. In other words, originality in this day and age lie not in the setting of a story or the characters that said story uses…originality now lies in how the story unfolds, and how the characters are presented underneath the surface of the archetype. In those respects, Alan Moore is indeed original, for doubtless that the Allan Quatermain from Moore's tales exists in an entirely different light than that of the old pulp stories, and the world that V for Vendetta inhabits is not completely interchangeable with the world that 1984 inhabits. Alan Moore, like all of us, has had certain influences in his life, and no doubt those things which have influenced the man and his work can count amongst them, in at least some regard, classic Horror/Adventure stories and George Orwell. Plus, all the characters that he used in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen had all fallen into the public domain, so it was perfectly acceptable that he used those characters. So there.

Of course, with all that being said, out of all the stories that exist in the world of literature today, it is perhaps the tales that feature dystopian societies in the future that I myself find to be the hardest to swallow in terms of defending the nature of their ‘originality' – or, for that matter, most stories that are set in the ‘genre' (if such a genre exists) of Post-Apocalyptic fiction. Indeed, in many respects, a great many stories that take place in a dsytopian society share common settings, concepts, and thematical structures: all are fairly bleak and grim, with very little involved by way of joy or freedom. It is my personal opinion that there is only one true way of measuring the quality and longevity of a ‘dystopian' work: its themes must be perceived and recognized as being at work in the modern day, in the world that surrounds us at the present. In that sense, does the V for Vendetta graphic novel work in light of today? Yes. Does the film that has been adapted from said graphic novel work? Why, yes…yes it does. The Moore-penned comic series was very much an allegory for, and critical of, the Margaret Thatcher-era of political conservatism that took hold of Britain in the 1980's, as well as the rise in popularity of various Fascist groups, such as the National Front; the Wachowski Brothers film as well acts as a critical allegory on large-scale political conservatism, yet, whereas the comics drew on the political climes of the era in which it was written, the Hollywood produced V for Vendetta film drew from the landscape of American politics in 2005, or the George W. Bush era. From within the first twenty minutes or so of the film, the fact that the film is indeed geared towards being a satirical look on the possible extremes that could have (and in some cases actually were) stemmed from the conservative mindset of the American government in the past eight years or so is unmistakable. In the film, the government makes use of fiery personalities singing their praises and devotion to the government over the television/radio to the masses, pelting them with blind, absolute faith in a subversively twisted political structure, effectively uniting those that listen under an umbrella of conformity and sameness, while at the same time driving a spike into the minds of those that ARE listening that those people that AREN'T listening or devoted to the conservative government are separate, dangerous, and, ultimately, unacceptable. Obviously, fiery television/radio personalities pushing the envelope of extremism in conservative politics has been the norm for the past decade in relation to those conservative pundits who have been in the limelight, with the likes of Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, or Ann Coultier at the forefront of public perception. Now, while I don't consign myself to any one political faction, I am, by-and-large due to the way I was raised and the area in which I grew up in, a conservative, though I'm a lot more moderate than most others from my hometown; however, even as a conservative, I can see the messages of xenophobia that lace the public addresses of the likes of Limbaugh and Hannity (not that I'm trying to single out the side of conservatism here, but it's more than applicable since that's essentially what the film deals with; in truth, both extreme conservatism and extreme liberalism are one and the same, as both deal not in open-mindedness, but in limits that are perceptively imposed on those ‘not like them'…and yes, extreme liberalism, despite its claims, deals in such things, as, for example, one look at Bill Maher's views of religion and those that follow them as being ‘ignorant', ‘close-minded', or ‘stupid' is proof of that). In the film, it's made quite clear that government agents can legally enter into the home of a civilian without a warrant, or without proof of any wrong-doing…which, of course, is one of the primary fears of many in the country when it comes to the Patriot Act and the questionable doors that it could possibly open for the government to use (by the way, of course the thing passed through Congress, because if you don't vote for something called the ‘Patriot' Act, then obviously you're not a Patriot, which means you go to Hell…or Mexico). The constant bombardment of fear tactics, the misuse of religion in order to maneuver religious people in the way that is wanted…one of the few things that are NOT applicable to the Bush-era was that, in real life, America was lacking the charismatic, well-spoken figurehead.

Obviously, it's made quite clear through the film that the Wachowski's are indeed liberals, and that they used the source material in order to craft a film that was purposely a satire on post-9/11 politics in America…which is one of the main problems that Alan Moore had with what was done to V for Vendetta as a movie (though it wasn't his only problem, as he's made it known that he was incensed that the producers claimed that Moore was excited in regards to the project, which he claimed was a lie and demanded a public apology from the men, who for some reason refused). As Moore has stated, he was left more than a bit unhappy at the fundamental changes in the themes of the work, as he felt that, rather than creating their own allegory in regards towards their views of American politics, they took Moore's work and made a cowardly veiled attempt mocking American politics, cowardly and veiled in that the film didn't take place in America, thus essentially not having the balls to be a true satire. However, while I can understand where Moore is coming from in relation to his views on the film, I think that through the films easily adapting many of the happenings or occurrences in the comics into a modern satire stands as a statement to V for Vendetta's longevity, for, as I stated earlier, I believe that such a thing marks the true measure in regards to ‘dystopian' novels – how it can reflect on the state of the world in the modern day. Whether or not anybody else feels the same way, I've always truly liked this movie, and I believe that it stands as being one of the best of the Moore adaptations.

…

And now, I give you my take on the Watchmen film. As a fan of the comic, it is inescapable that I would draw comparisons between the film and the book, and thus not really giving the film a chance in its own right. As such, I've split this review up into three different sections: my thoughts on the work as a book, as an adaptation, and, finally, as a film. In this regard, I do this so that I can indeed look at the movie as a movie by separating my thoughts on the book from the film, and thus give the film a fair shake. As such, I'll give scores to the film both as a stand-alone film and as an adaptation, before combining the two to give my overall score. It may be confusing to you, but hey, it makes sense to me.

WATCHMEN



As a Book

There was a time in my younger, formative years that I stumbled upon a work of literature that changed the way in which I myself viewed stories at the time, stumbling onto the type of author that, in my adult life, I would come to respect and appreciate to the utmost…and that author's name was J.R.R. Tolkien. Of course, due in large part to my father and the animated films that were produced in the late 1970's and early 1980's, I knew who Tolkien was and had at most a fledgling knowledge of the man's works. Yet, it wasn't until I finally read what he had written and experienced that which he had created firsthand, and not through another's point of interpretation, that my eyes opened, particularly in regards to not only what my dream would become (to write), but also in how words such as ‘epic', ‘scope', and ‘scale' can apply to written stories, how a ‘scenario' can morph into an entire, everlasting ‘world' in and of itself. Perhaps a proper analogy with which to paint the picture of how Tolkien affected me in such a way, would be that of the proverbial rabbit-hole. Imagine, if you will, a hole in the ground (there lived a…), and perched next to that hole sits The Hobbit, Tolkien's first published work on the world of Middle-Earth, and the prelude to his greater works. During the fifth grade, I at last decided to sit down and actually read the tale of Bilbo Baggins, despite my pretty much already knowing about seventy-five percent of the story's happenings due to the Rankin/Bass cartoon film, as well as through my father. Naturally, of course, I enjoyed the book quite well, snatching it up and merrily snaking my way into the initially thin tunnel-ways of the rabbit-hole, to which I could see the Lord of the Rings looming in the curve of the tunnel. Throughout much of the first book in the first volume (remember, The Lord of the Rings isn't a collection of three books, it's a collection of three volumes, each containing two books), the proceedings of the events of Middle-Earth were presented much as they had been in The Hobbit, lighthearted in both tone and spirit, as well as in the ‘scenario' of Middle-Earth: Gandalf was coming and going, a Baggins went on an adventure, and there was much singing. However, by the beginning of the second book within The Fellowship of the Ring, the story and its world took a turn, changing in the process, becoming something…more. As I worked my way through The Lord of the Rings and thusly through the rabbit-hole, the walls of said rabbit-hole began to expand and became less constricting as I crawled ever deeper into the tunnels of perception of what a story could be. By the time I had finished the epic trilogy (around the time I was in the sixth grade), I wasted little time in digging my nose into The Silmarillion, a work that was published post-humously after Tolkien's death, and in many ways was left unfinished by the time of its publication. However, despite the work's unfinished nature (and despite the fact that, at the time of that first reading, I struggled through the more archaic narrative style), The Silmarillion had a rather profound affect on my young mind…and an affect that caused the ever-widening walls of the tunnel to expand into that of a great chasm, an endless abyss where the limits of imagination knew no bounds. For you see, in light of The Silmarillion, it was revealed that not only was the scenario of a hobbit accompanying thirteen dwarves on a quest to recover their ancient lands a slight and almost inconsequential footnote in the History of Middle-Earth, but so was the larger work of The Lord of the Rings. In The Silmarillion, we find that when Tolkien created Middle-Earth, it was intended to be much more than a mere backdrop for a story, much more than a ‘scenario'; Middle-Earth was a living world, with a creation mythology, with unique languages created by Tolkien, and a veritable lifetime's worth of noteworthy persons that was given life in the History of the world. Of course, Tolkien wasn't the first to create to create highly imaginative worlds of fiction, as that concept goes back as far as ancient mythologies…but Tolkien was the first that I myself encountered, and thus has affected my views of what ‘stories' and ‘worlds' can be.

What Tolkien so graciously gave us was not a creation of FINITE possibilities; it was a work of the endless imagination, a work that gave us a world where a seemingly infinite amount of stories could be pulled and expanded upon from within its folds. It's the veritable ‘golden goose'. It's the gift that keeps on giving. That very notion took hold of my own thoughts and imagination, and to this day, out of all the many great author's that have toiled in world history, I respect Tolkien and those like him the most. I call them ‘world-builders' – meaning that they can create a world of the unbelievable, and make it believable. Take, for example, a writer like Harper Lee, and what is unarguably her masterwork, that being To Kill a Mockingbird. There is no argument against the greatness of that fantastic story, which stands as a look at the treatments of ‘race' in the climate of the Civil Rights-era South, and all through the eyes of a child that doesn't necessarily see race the way that adults do. A timeless classic, to be sure, but is it difficult to become emotionally invested in the world that's presented in To Kill a Mockingbird, a world that did at one time, and in many respects still, exist in the actual world that we know…or is it more difficult for an author to pull emotional resonance from an audience by presenting a deep and meticulously plotted world and its history, one that is filled with the likes of elves, Walkin' Dudes whose presence is spread out through various worlds and alternate worlds, or superheroes? As great as she is (and don't misunderstand what I'm trying to say here), I don't view Lee as being a ‘world-builder' to the effect as I perceive that tag to entail. Tolkien is a ‘world-builder'. Stephen King is a ‘world-builder'. Alan Moore is a ‘world-builder'.

To the eyes and mind of a person that has yet to read it, or to one that was completely unaware of its existence until recently, the trade edition that collects all twelve issues of the Watchmen comic series seems rather unassuming. Perhaps a majority of those people look on such things as comic books as being, shall we say, ‘intellectually-lite', a thought which, naturally, most comic book readers would dismiss as being a fairly common misconception that brews amongst those that don't read or ‘get' comics as an alternate medium of literature. However, as I'm sure most comics fans might attest to (however reluctantly that may be), I feel that the concept that comics aren't intelligent isn't really much of a misconception at all, particularly if you phrase it to say that a MAJORITY of comics are ‘intellectually-lite'. For you see, much like any other medium of creative entertainment in this world, the degrees of quality and purpose vary rather significantly from work to work, creator to creator, thought to thought. Some comics are indeed pure crap; most comics, however, fall into a category of being fun, straight-forward adventures that don't necessarily try to convey or contain any great measure of intellectual intricacies, of which the enjoyment factor to be pulled from such works varies from person to person. Then there are the exceedingly deep books, books that shoulder a rather hefty amount of information, and are, all things considered, the rarest of all comic books, particularly in regards to the superhero genre of comics (which, of course, is the largest of all genres within the comics industry). Watchmen, of course, falls into this category, and, ultimately, stands as perhaps being one of the densest ever conceived, ripe for the picking for its many themes, characterizations, and different interpretations that varies from read to read. Watchmen has since been a recipient of the Hugo Award and has been placed on Time Magazine's list of the all-time one-hundred greatest novels ever written, acts and praise that has led many to claim that Moore and Gibbon's Watchmen is the greatest comic of all time, and one that has influenced the comics medium moreso than any other work in the comics field before or since. Of course, with the exception of Tolkien and his work (which spawned a whole genre of emulators and imitators in and of itself…and yes, I am indeed biased towards Tolkien, thanks for noticing), stating that any one thing as being the ‘greatest' or ‘most influential' in its field is highly subjective; for example, in the case of the Watchmen book and whether or not it's the most influential ever, I'm sure that Action Comics #1 would object to such a thing. However, as to whether or not Watchmen stands as being ONE of the greatest and most influential…well, the answer to that is obvious: yes, it is, and it deserves its ranking at being near the top in terms of quality. Of course, the ‘dark' and ‘gritty' trend that permeated comics in the 1990's was descended directly from Watchmen, so its influence is undeniable…although, that same trend nearly ended up ruining the comics industry, but that's neither here nor there.

In my opinion, one of the biggest discrepancies that separates Watchmen from its many peers comes by way of its containing one of the tightest, deepest, and most delicately crafted ‘in-story' histories and mythologies ever created for a comic book. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that the world that Moore created for the Watchmen comics rivals that of the broad mythologies created for The Lord of the Rings or The Dark Tower, and in many cases far surpasses that of the worlds created for many other comics…even those that have had a certain continuity that has lasted for hundreds of issues. I'll freely admit, however, that when I first read Watchmen I didn't see that. In fact, while I enjoyed it somewhat, I didn't see what the big deal about the thing was, and it took me nearly a month and a half to read the thing, as I'd pick it up and read a chapter, then allow a few days to a few weeks to pass before picking it again to read the next chapter…at least, that's how it went at first. As I continued to read the book, many of the things in both the main narrative and the supplemental material at the back of each book continued to tie in to things that happened near the beginning, and once combining that (which I always appreciate) with the ever-growing greatness of not only the main characters but the secondary ones as well, you could say that I was beginning to get hooked. Once I had finally finished reading the book for the first time, I let it set there on my shelf, all the while thinking about it, mostly about the characters and the ideas and concepts surrounding them. It didn't take long before I picked the book up again and re-read it…and that, I think, is when the true greatness of the book hit me, as I returned to the book having a better understanding of the world that Moore and Gibbons created. In my opinion, the mark of a true book, comic, movie, ANYTHING is how much value it gives you when you return to it, and here, with Watchmen, that amount of value is indeed up there with the likes of The Lord of the Rings, which, as anybody who knows me can attest, is lofty praise indeed coming from me.

My Score, as a Book: 10/10, obviously

As an Adaptation

So, knowing all that, knowing the level of detail and the ever-lasting depths of information that is to be found within the Watchmen novel, one would surely ask oneself as to whether or not such a thing could ever truly be filmed to its utmost, filmed to deliver the experience contained within the pages to its truest. The answer is, unarguably, a simple one: no. Unfortunately, even with a near three hour running time, the Watchmen film can only hope to even barely scratch the surface of the world and mythology that Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons created; perhaps what's even more unfortunate is that those who would eschew reading the book in favor of relying solely on the film are unwitting parties to narrowing the broad and epic scope of what said world and mythology entails, and thus, unbeknownst to them, narrowing their own perception as to what a comic book (or a film based on a comic book) can truly be, or, at least, attempt to be. However, that's not the audiences fault, neither is it Zack Snyder's, nor should the blame even fall at the feet of the writers, the producers, or even the movie studio (though the producers/studio COULD have alleviated that a bit by pushing for a multi-picture deal in which to adapt Watchmen…). Instead, the fault lies with the medium of ‘film' in and of itself, pretty much for the sole reason that, unlike other forms of art such as literature, film has a finite amount of time in which to push across certain levels of information – film has a time limit, so to speak. Thus, by proxy of the very nature of its medium, film is much more limited in the amounts of information that it can produce and present to the audience for their consumption.

As such, and since the film already dealt with a fairly hefty amount of intricate main characters, much of the information that was clipped and lost to the wayside during Watchmen's transferal from one medium to another was information that dealt with certain characters or situations that served NOT to pad out the plot, but information that served to flesh out the world that was so delicately and meticulously created in the book. Gone were representations of the people on the street such as the newsstand vendor, the common man in the throes of the disillusioned population and fearful apprehensions that said populace held towards the world and the direction in which it was headed as their elected official guided them towards inevitable doom. Gone, too, were the characters of Hollis Mason and Sally Jupiter, among a veritable ton of other supporting characters. Oh, sure, Hollis and Sally were present in the film, but they were unfortunately relegated to being quite a bit less than they were in the capacity in which they existed in the book. In the film, Hollis pretty much existed for just one scene in which the movie could introduce Dan, and Sally lost much of her character in the process of being put on film, rendering her to be little more than a one-note caricature, almost, and not really delving into the depths of why she would have affections for the man that attempted to brutally rape her. At other times, the film does indeed draw on a characterization from the book in regards to one of the ‘lesser' characters, though in most cases, such an act was a misguided attempt, essentially carrying over from the book yet given no leg to stand on in the film. For example, when Hooded Justice discovers the Comedian attempting to rape Sally and proceeds to whip the hell out of him, the Comedian makes a snide remark along the lines of, "So THIS is what gets you off, huh?", to which Hooded Justice acts appalled and somewhat stymied at the statement/accusation ("Wh-what?!"). Of course, for those that have indeed read the book, this is an obvious reference in regards to Hooded Justice's somewhat secretive homosexuality (secret to the public, but not to his comrades), as his romantic relationship with Sally in the novel was a sham, a public relations act. However, within the context of the film, there's no way of knowing what the Comedian's remark is implying, since the movie never makes mention of either Hooded Justice's sexual orientation or even his farcical relationship with Sally. Thus, the Comedian's quip towards Hooded Justice felt out of place, since within the film there was no basis upon which to give it context. Of course, there are many other little things like that left out of the film, and to the more-than-casual Watchmen fan, its more than noticeable.

However, that's not to say that, as an adaptation, the Watchmen film is a complete failure. Indeed, it does cut a lot of what made the world in the book not only me, but countless others into the proceedings of the work. Yet, in the context of film, the act of making a world ‘real' changes, and becomes less about information conveyed via text or narrative (as most of the padding out of the world of the Watchmen in the novel is given through the supplemental material at the end of each chapter), and becomes more about fleshing out a convincible world be conveying information through visuals. In that regard, all the ignored stuff was, indeed, mostly superfluous in regards to the main driving points of the narrative (and thus the film), and thus COULD be cut. Those main points that were indeed kept are, admittedly, very well done. At times, whether by utilizing certain images ripped directly from the artwork in the book or through the fantastic characterizations of the plot's main players, Snyder and company created a film that, by and large for the most part, was very much a slave to its source material. What is adapted straight from the book is done so, more often than not, by emulating the dialogue or the artwork panel for panel, which, considering the cult status of the original masterpiece, should be lauded and appreciated by fans of the comic. What's more is that the film keeps everything that's consequentially important to the narrative of the film/book, which, in terms of an adaptation of a work of this size, is really the only thing that makes sense – keep what's centrally important to the work. While it may not be perfect in conveying everything that the book holds, I will say this: this is perhaps the best live-action adaptation of Watchmen that fans could hope for…and probably the best they'll get, in all honesty.

My Score, as an Adaptation: 6.0

As a Film

In the few weeks leading up to the night that I was to watch the Watchmen, something strange happened, something that normally doesn't happen to me when it comes to films that I've been wanting to see for a substantial period of time…I got nervous. I began to feel a bit of apprehension, my once-strong enthusiasm for the movie began to wane, and it all had nothing to do with any reviews that I had read for the film. To put it simply, the feelings that I didn't think the film could pull it off and be enjoyable began to creep into mind, so much so that, when the film's opening night dawned on the world, I had no plans to go. It took an entire weekend for this Watchmen fan to go and watch the film based on one of his favorite comic books, and on the day that I did go to see the movie, I hadn't necessarily planned for it. It just kind of happened, and while I was sitting there when the previews began to come to a close, I didn't know what to expect. When it was all said and done…

I enjoyed it, both as an adaptation, and as a stand-alone movie.

Now, just looking at the film as being a stand-alone product, with no ties to the book, is, in some ways, difficult for somebody familiar with the work to do. To sit there and watch the film while comparing it to its source material from another, altogether different medium, is next to impossible. But, even though that may very well be true, it's not impossible to look at something like Watchmen and decipher what worked in the film and what didn't. And overall, pretty much most things in the movie worked, much moreso than the things that didn't. First, the things that didn't work. Obviously, the sex scene seemed to be a bit much, in my opinion. Rather than going for something, you know, classy, Snyder relegated the scene to be something comparable to what you'd find on a late night Skin-emax fest. I understand the thematical importance that the scene held for the characters of both Dan and Laurie, but it was still something that could have been accomplished by using your usual, ‘less-is-more' sex scene that you see in most films…in other words, Dan's thrusting ass was too much. In something that's almost hand-in-hand to the sex scene conceptually, some parts of the over-the-top violence also seemed out of place. Again, I understand the fact that the book played a part in ushering in a new era of comics where violence became acceptable in the medium, but some shots in the film, such as the scene where Dr. Manhattan combusted those men and the camera showed their entrails dangling from the ceiling, were, again, almost too much. Perhaps, I think, Snyder went over-board in those regards NOT for the fans of Moore's work, but for the more casual fans that were watching the film…but, then again, I'm not sure. The soundtrack was another thing that seemed completely misplaced in the film at times, while at other times being perfectly suited to the situation that the characters where in…but those times were the exception, not the rule. In particular, I personally HATED the scene that showcased Manhattan's and the Comedian's exploits during the Vietnam War, as Snyder chose to play ‘Ride of the Valkyries' at that time; of course, in my mind, that song being played in congruence with a Vietnam backdrop has become synonymous with the greatness that it Apocalypse Now…and I, for one, loathe it when a film consciously does that sort of hearkening to a film that's superior. In my eyes, when a film does that, it's almost as if they're trying to say to me, ‘Hey, remember this film and how truly great it was?', which, naturally, does no favors for the film that does such a thing (think: The Love Guru, playing Bohemian Rhapsody in the car, an obvious call-back to the far superior Wayne's World). But those are all essentially nit-picking. Perhaps the biggest fault with the film has to do with the movie's pacing, as it starts off good, runs smoothly for a bit, before the main narrative and plot for the movie begins to slow down in order to push across the stories of the characters, ultimately grinding to a halt during the Mars scene. Of course, as I said earlier, that's not essentially the film's fault, as it adheres to the comics, but that's an instance of the chronology of the narrative working much better in comic form than it does in film. Regardless, the film does indeed sag for about forty-five minutes before going into the final act, and by the time the final act does kick to life, everything seemed a bit rushed. Clearly, in that case, more time was needed, or something should have been cut, honestly.

The performances all seemed to wildly vary. The most I can say about Matthew Goode's performance as Adrian would be this: weird. He just came across as being weird in the role, whether it is by his accent or his actual portrayal of the character…it just didn't seem to click. Apart from that, everybody else was fairly solid, in my opinion, even Malin Akerman, who it seems most other people hated. Jackie Earle Haley did indeed own the character of Rorschach, and put on by far the best performance, followed by Jeffrey Dean Morgan as the Comedian, and even Patrick Wilson seemed to get better as the film went along. The one guy that I didn't see the greatness from was Billy Crudup as Dr. Manhattan. I'd read quite a bit about how this was his greatest performance to date, and the best of the film…but I didn't really see it. About ninety-percent of the time, he spoke in a stark voice of monotone, and, by nature of the very character itself, was completely stoic and void of emotion. Don't get me wrong, he did what was warranted for the character, but still, I don't think he did anything that nobody else would have done in his stead. It could have been Peter Weller or Brent Spiner in the role, and as far as I'm concerned, you would have had the same results. But by and large the performances weighed in as being a good thing on behalf of the film.

As for the other good things, suffice it to say that the film did most things right, most of which are similar to what the book does right, so I'll give a brief summing up. The tweaked ending was perfectly suited for the film, and in no way, shape, or form detracted from the film in the least. Obviously, the visuals were quite striking, as were the (sometimes far to) numerous action sequences. And, of course, the film's greatest strength lies in the very same strength that the book held: the characters. Even though there is indeed a period of time where the narrative slows to a glacial pace, that time is still forgivable due to the excellent character work that carries those slow parts. The characters are indeed the world for this film, and those characters in and of themselves make this a film worth watching, for both fans and non-fans.

My Score, as a Film: 8.0

Of course, I've got two different scores there for the film, so I'll combine them and give my overall score, and I'll just say this: the Watchmen film stands as a great effort to adapt as layered a work as the original comic, but the book is still too dense to convey more than what is essentially a shell of the experience that can be drawn from the book.

My Overall Score, as a Film and an Adaptation: 7.5

Obviously, I think the film, as a film, is stronger than it is as an adaptation, but as a fan, it didn't measure up to the book. It's like that old cliché when it comes to adaptations…

Read the book.