Hey.

How’s it going, buddy? Excited about Watchmen next week? Maybe you were one of the Neckbeards at the Supa-Dupa Special Austin or London screening! Yeah, all of them exclusive, gushing reviews sound exactly like what I’d expect from one of the best–if now not over-hyped and over-saturated–graphic novels of our time. Empire calls it:

A bleak, rangy tale of a planet beset with disorder, a parable about power, and a superhero soap that shuttles between multiple story arcs that almost divides the film into comic-book cells.

Others are running “non-reviews,” sly ways to pussyfoot around embargos–or as they are normally known, “omfg we’re afraid of being blacklists, but we need to claim Firsties so what do we do? Oh I has idea.” Doesn’t that sound retarded when you read it? Non-reviews are the same way, like this one from CHUD:

But sometimes you push the edge of those rules a little bit, and so I’m here with initial thoughts on Watchmen. Some of this you’ll see reflected in my review, a 4100 word opus that remains sealed away. This isn’t my review, not by a long shot, but I think you’ll be able to tell where I’m coming from with these few paragraphs. There may be mild spoilers for those unfamiliar with the graphic novel.

…

The best sequence of the film is probably the extended ten minute Dr. Manhattan origin scene; in a self-imposed exile on Mars, the nigh-omnipotent Manhattan remembers his origin and his life, and it’s here that the film showcases everything that makes it great. Scored with Philip Glass music, the scene uses strong, vibrant visual storytelling to weave the strands of Manhattan’s origin and the history of the Watchmen world’s superheroes together while also creating gorgeous tapestries for the viewer. Snyder’s every frame is packed with information, ranging from the tiniest details that only obsessives will note to bigger things that supplement the story in a glance. And over it all is the narration of Billy Crudup, bringing a sense of disconnection as Dr. Manhattan, but not coldness. It’s an arresting performance filled with grace and subtlety; on the surface Manhattan believes that he has left behind his human emotion but we can see that it’s still there, hidden just under the icy blue exterior of the man who has forgotten how to be a man. And Snyder and screenwriters David Hayter and Alex Tse have the good sense to allow Alan Moore’s original words to be mostly what Crudup speaks; from script to post-production, where the incredible illusion of this atomic man was created (Manhattan isn’t simply a blue, glowing guy. There are… things happening inside of him, swirling reactions and hints of other cosmos just beneath his skin, which is still recognizably that of a human being), Snyder has brought together every element in nearly perfect harmony to create a scene that is stirring and moving and awesome, in the most old-fashioned sense of that word.

Now, call me crazy, but that darn looked like a review! Anyway, I won’t nit-pick. I’m mildly excited to see the film. Why I remember the first time I read Watchmen and was bored out of my skull. Sure, as a 13-year old, I should’ve seen the subtle media allusions, the foreshadowing and radical political statements made by Moore about a Nixonian Apocalypse where a rapist and murderer calls himself The Comedian.  Makes perfect sense on the first read around and only a complete fool wouldn’t see that!

So now that the biting sarcasm is on the table, let’s address it: Watchmen the book is brilliant. Only after you’ve been emersed and forced to defend why you’re going into your late twenties and reading a comic book. Alan Moore did us all a great favor by making smart books. But do remember–he worships a fucking sock puppet and likely has the power to eat my eternal soul. Unfortunately, most mainstream audiences will know Superman, Batman, Spider-Man and Captain America.  They may put two and two together when figuring out the atomic overtones–if they weren’t already hammered into their skulls–of Manhattan and the Golden Age of comics that preyed on paranoia.

But who will recognize Rorschach as The Question aside from die-hards? Who will marvel at the anti-hero overtones of Adrian Veidt as he has–omgz spoiler–already destroyed New York, 35 minutes ago. These are token references forus, the geek and hardcore fanboy. Now they’re being given to a wider audience, one who isn’t aware about Spider-Man’s marriage being ret-conned nor care.

DenofGeek intones “Fanboys, lay down your noble swords. Watchmen the movie is here, and it is good.” And Time’s own Matt Selman shills out for it after a double secret probationary screening. He marvels at not being press, but looking at it as a cultural thing for geeks. Yet how is this more important than watching Spider-Man swing through a CGI New York or Wolverine unleash his claws in three dimensions? Watchmen has become iconic in nerd culture because it’s supposed to be the biggest and best–it’s the fucking equivalent of Catcher in the Rye.

Jeff Wells, near and dear to my heart, slams Selman’s review with the title “Watchmen Whore“[s] and so he should:

In other words, Nerdworld blogger Matt Selman, a longtime Simpsons writer and now one of the show’s executive producers, is a completely prejudiced and unreliable shill. He’s an invested pre-believer, a suck-up, an emotional pushover — his word means absolutely nothing.

Only when a vigorous non-fan of comic book fantasy and phantasmagoria like myself sees Watchmen and does cartwheels…only when someone like me freaks out and sings arias about this film will it mean anything to anyone.

And you know what, Fanboys? Those of you who defend fanatical notions and decry Roger Ebert for having an opinion? Wells is right. (Related news, a pig just flew by my window.) The Dark Knight showed what a comic-based film, handled by an excellent director, could do with mainstream and cult appeal. Both praised critically and by fans–even if parodied–show how to do a film without referring to one’s self as “The Visionary Director of a Horribly Homophobic Film Created The Dick that Ruined The Spirit.”

Moore himself spoke to TotalFilm, hypothetically asking:

Do we need any more shitty films in this world? We have quite enough already. Whereas the 100 million dollars could sort out the civil unrest in Haiti. And the books are always superior, anyway.

Unfortunately, I somewhat disagree with Moore on that. Animation and adaptation are a thriving industry, wherein most Comics writers now exclusively use the industry for vanity/film projects–i.e. Mark Millar’s ultra-violence Wanted and Kick-Ass, both of which were designed to be films and he was forced “slum” them as comics before. But creators should carry more weight with having their works being adapted. Even Bryan Lee O’Malley of Scott Pilgrim fame was, as he said at the New York Comic Con a few weeks ago, washing dishes in a restaurant when he was told his work had been optioned.

“Where’s my money,” he intoned, part joke but likely just as serious. And when that gets closer and closer to release, the same questions will arise: will fans like it? Will it sell out? How faithful is it to the series that has yet to finish. And this’ll all get to start up again, as die-hards defend Michael Cera’s gawky geek nature and the mainstream just won’t get it, man! And good for them.

So to all the butt-hurt fanboys claiming people just don’t “get” their history and their culture and their what-evers. Shut up. There’s a reason most people don’t like you. This is it, presented because you’re either tied into a frightening hivemind of superiority, you warp statements around or can’t fathom why a film adapting a 50-foot Atomic Blue Man could ever be considered silly or not right for some people.

Sincerely,
-John

p.s. see you next Friday.