*
Watchmen review, tra-la! Features comments on the transformative nature of the movie adaptation, and why a lot of the oft-stated complaints of smothering fidelity to the comic don't really work for me; if anything, the adaptation's problem is that it
picks & chooses from the comic in a jarring, ill-fitting manner that undermines its effect as a singular work. Surely its sense of humor (yes! it does have one!) is an awfully different thing. I also managed to slip in an Emanuelle reference -- remember, one 'm' means unauthorized! -- so I'm pretty happy. The Jodorowsky quote up top comes from his afterword to the third and final Epic/Marvel edition of
The Incal, btw.
There's also stuff on adaptation in general in there;
Andrew Hickey recently sent out for suggestions on alternative movie plans for the comic, and it's seemed so obvious to me since they took the serum away that Watchmen could only properly be adapted and directed by Peter Greenaway, the Welsh-born legend of willfully aestheticised shock and taxinomical anality, as his follow-up to the visible success of 1989's
The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover. The Moore & Gibbons narrative would exist primarily in the background, since, as we all know, the cinema is inferior to literature in regards to narrative, and must embrace qualities of 'still' visual art to meaningfully flower.
As such, emphasis would be placed on cataloguing iterations of superhumanity through visual representation. By way of example, Rorschach's attributed settings (the Apartment, the Prison) would be redolant with citation to painting from the Italian Baroque period, instantly suggesting the 'spiritual' nature of the hero's drive through such Catholic-born imagery yet critiquing the Objectivist source of his mission via ironic analogy to the religion of empire. In contrast, Nite Owl II, while likewise Baroque in his lair, would showcase greater fealty to the so-called "genre work" (one of many quiet puns to be included) of the Dutch Golden Age, that leading movement toward areligious naturalism and, thus, the character's more pliable humanity.
Both, of course, as human actors, will move in the same higly formal manner: that of their greatest artist, Steve Ditko. Each gesture shall be a Ditkovian pose, uniting them as superhuman brothers and departures from 'human' (polite) society, the crux of the Moore/Gibbons genre critique. Every superhero shall pose, and their conversation would serve the 'plot' second, and ideology first; ''realism' is not the answer, as only interrogation of the form can grip the cinema's power and affect the intellect. Only Dr. Manhattan, the 'true' superhuman, may walk freely and naturally, his nude form itself properly proportioned in the 'classical' godly image, as fortuitously was the Moore & Gibbons intent - contrast to Ozymandias, his monuments and sprawling architecture dwarfing him as but a human. Likewise, the camera must linger on the (frequent) nudity of Nite Owl II and Silk Spectre II, their imperfections beautiful and their bodies soft, yet their posture like wood before the steely relaxation of the always-nude Manhattan.
There would be no 'main' characters, although some 'story' progression would be conveyed in puzzle form through the defeat of 92 villains, the Comedian being the first; some will be obvious, some less so. Always, the heroes will be bloodied by their overt encounters with villains (in Prison, on the Streets), although their wounds always heal, while fallen foes become framed in exact citation to classical portraiture, truly simple humanity 'sealed' by aesthetic by artists-superhumans. As you have already guessed, Ozymandias is the 92nd villain, both reinforcing the (fearful!) symmetry of the work -- through the Comedian's status as likewise superhero yet also the first villain -- and offering some conclusion as foe that cannot be bested, the presence of Uranium (atomic number 92) as the everlasting fear of the Cold War and, paradoxically, the defeat of Ozymandias' effort for peace symbolized by himself.
And, obviously, Ozymandias would unleash the squid
thirteen minutes ago, but you could have figured that out on your own!
Rated NC-17.
Barring all that, the
other perfect adaptation would be directed by
Richard Kern in 1986, at his home after purchasing issue #1 upon its release, and it'd mostly be five minutes of him jerking off to Silk Spectre II in Super 8. Look, it's Cinema of Transgression, ok?
Labels: Watchman