Watchmen

Anyway. Watchmen.

Let me start by saying I’m not a purist; I’ve read the book, felt it was very good, know it’s very important. It was not, and will never be, one of my favourites for pounds of reasons, but that’s just personal taste, nothing else.

So I was excited, initially, to see the trailers for this movie. No Ben Affeck in spandex to make up for the lack of household-name super heroes. The visuals looked right; they didn’t look like they were reaching beyond the coolness of the concepts, or going too silly with the Eighties-ness. I held back hope, because I figure lots of cool-looking movies also suck cock. So I went in without any real expectation, and purposely didn’t re-read the book.

I went to see it alone, partially because I’ve been ill and missed the times when friends were going, partially because I wanted to really feel out my own opinion of this one, uncoloured by what my intelligent and critical friends have to say. And I have to say, as someone whose not a particular fan of the book itself and doesn’t remember the plot very faithfully, that I quite liked it. It didn’t blow my mind, or surprise me in any way. It also didn’t greatly disappoint. It walked a fine balance, and in my opinion succeeded in communicating some of the ideas of the book without alienating a non-nerd audience, and that’s some very diffcult ground to tread.

But dude, whomever chose that soundtrack has got to die. It made me want to punch Leonard Cohen. And what was with the Simon and Garfunkel? Jesus Christ! It made no sense, was utterly distracting, and didn’t serve to set the scenes at all. We’re neither close enough to the 80s, nor far enough away, that those songs are going to take most people to that time and place. They were jarring and silly.

The sex scene between Silk Spectre and Nite Owl (yes, II) was uncomfortably lame. You’ve probably all heard my thoughts about sex scenes in movies/books, but I’ll share them again. My ideal sex scene is one where the lovers passionately embrace, and then we cut to the hours later part. Sex scenes never send the plot forward, and watching people have sex isn’t any fun unless it’s porn, in which case, I don’t want to be watching it in a theatre full of strangers unless I’ve gone to that theatre for that particular purpose. 95% of sex scenes are boooooorrrrring. There’s no character development. Two animals writhe around making silly faces for a bit, then the plot gets to start again.

And none of you can tell me that you didn’tfi nd the next scene more sexually arousing and have any hope of sounding rational. Silk Spectre and Nite Owl were a million times more stimulating to watch while kicking prison ass than at any other point in the movie. It was totally backwards. I know that once you get Rorschach on board, sexy time is over, but jeez louise. I pulled out my iPod and checked for a wireless signal during that damned sex scene. Snoresville.

Um, and as much-discussed, Doctor Manhattan’s wang was dangling all over the place. I particularly appreciated the multiple-wang shots as a fine and subtle piece of comedy. And while I’m appreciating those, I’m going to let you in on another secret of filmmaking: full frontal lady? Sex. Full frontal male? Comedy. Mother Nature endowed you gentlemen with a very useful piece of equipment there, but certainly an unlovely one. Censors will pretend that they don’t like showing wang because gasp! Exposed sex-parts! But really, it’s because the people initially drawing up these rules were men who were particularly concerned with propriety, and couldn’t stand the thought of looking ridiculous. And look ridiculous Doc Manhood does.

If he wasn’t already y’know, blue and disassociated from humanity, he might care.

For me, Rorschach stole the show, both with his mask and without, and I thought Ozymandius was particularly well-played. I found the ending depressing and ominous, because that’s the kind of thing I find depressing and ominous. I know it’s not as dark as the book, but I can’t really remember how the book ends. I’m glad they left out the Black Freighter. I wasn’t able to imagine how they’d make it t anyway. I walked home with my mind buzzing and a little excitement in my belly, and that’s all I can ask.

Hmmm, hard to rate this one. I’m-a gonna give it 3 forks. That music sucked, and the cover at the end by My Chemical Romance made want to punch someone again. And that’s worth three forks.