Alan Moore has a healthy fear of seeing his work adapted to film—generally, he’s chosen not to be associated with any adaptations of his work, and after seeing Watchmen on film, I think I understand why.
It’s not that Watchmen isn’t successful in delivering the heart of the graphic novel to its audience. The original work’s contemplative nature is captured perfectly—the struggle with believing in lofty ideals while amorality and depravity permeates the world around us and the human nature within us.
Just capturing the novel’s heart, though, isn’t enough. It has to remain the focus, and that’s where Watchmen’s latest choice of medium begins to fail it. Watchmen the original novel is incredibly violent. When filtered through ink and paint, it’s a backdrop, a supporting element to the story’s overall conundrum. Amplified by the raw power of 21st century cinema, every blood spatter and splintered femur with all their gory sound effects simply drown out the story’s original purpose. The film becomes more about the action, not about the essence of its source.
Further, Watchmen as a graphic novel contains more richness than any film can really provide. No comic book is simply the storyboard of its adaptation. The novel’s frames are beautifully drawn, but Watchmen the film falls flat in this area. Each shot either statically replicates the original without ingenuity or defaults on conventional cinematography. Not to mention all the additional little garnishes and seasonings in the art and story that a cinema adaptation can’t include because of time and budget.
Unlike other comic book films like The Dark Knight, Watchmen doesn’t have the life it truly deserves. It tries so hard to be its source yet can’t keep from tripping over itself. In the end, Watchmen as a film misses out on opportunities to grow into something unique and separate. It’s a cold, industrial adaptation that’s probably better for home viewing than experiencing in the theatre.
Or better yet, read the book instead.
