Yes, I deliberately waited until everyone should have seen it to say anything about it. If you have not by now seen it and this entry screws it up for you, that is your fault, and the Squidbag will not be held responsible. By having come to this blog, in fact, you absolve me of any legal responsibility for...for anything, really.
Besides, if all you wanted was a review, there are one hundred thousand gibbering movie reviewers out there, screaming like a, well, like an "abattoir full of retarded children" about how "weird" this movie is, or how bad the song cues or dialogue are, or how the action falls off at the end, or all kinds of shit that they believe doesn't work, like the "slavish" word-for-word dialogue re-creation. Some of them go out of their way to trash the film, and pony up their credentials at the beginning so you'll understand what's invested in their assessment. These are serious people, they want you to know. In reality, reviewers are a dime a dozen, (even though you can't get a dozen of anything for a dime anymore, I'm still using that cliche like Gangbusters) and their opinions are frequently influenced not only by their film education (or lack thereof) and their career frustration, but also by their need to stand apart from the ovine herd of other empty-headed mouthpieces shouting in the parking lot after the movie is over. Yes, there exists a plethora of silly reviewers, but there can be only one Squidbag. Furthermore, might I just add that anyone who needs a paid total stranger's review of material to determine whether or not they should experience it for themselves is either possessed of an advanced decision making disorder or so little resources that they should just skip movies and stick to books until they learn better. Yes, I think I might.
Oh yeah, the movie. In short - I liked it. Of course I did. I liked it very much, but it is not perfect, nor is it an ultimate version of this material. It is not meant to be. I have come slowly and bitterly to understand that all movies are but an interpretation of their source material, and should be treated as separate products / pieces of art. The source material from whence this springs is daunting, much beloved and lauded, and two dozen years old, which is ancient in terms of pop culture. The fact that it has a currency at all is amazing, and a great testament to the comic's influence, craft, and superiority.
You can tell, that even at 2:43, it's got a ton of shit cut out of it. The Director's Cut will be as long as the minute hand on the Doomsday Clock.
I absolutely loved Jackie Earle Haley's Rorschach. It wasn't as I pictured / heard him in my head, but his performance captured the essence of the character so well it made the movie for me. There is a moment in the book that is described to us, but that we do not see, and we see it in the movie. After the infamous "hot fat" incident, Rorschach turns to the other inmates in the prison cafeteria and says, "None of you understand. I'm not locked in here with you - you're locked in here with me." In the movie, he gets punched in the face by a hack between the first and second clauses of the second sentence, and it appears not to faze him at all. He is something else, something other. Driven by something we call psychosis because it's outside of our experience and that's the best explanation anyone's yet developed - some sort of brain disorder. Rorschach is magnificent, and anyone criticizing his lines - delivered or written - is perhaps missing the point. Rorschach is a little man in a giant, huge, overwhelming world of chaos and evil by his reckoning, and he will do whatever is necessary to become the hard-bitten, tough as nails, force of nature vigilante he thinks he needs to be, not realizing that he already has. This includes using language in his writings that Mickey Spillane would have been a little put off by.
Ozymandias came off like David Spade's older gay brother, looking to take over the world. I hate him in the comic, and I hate him here. He's the asshole with a point. The egotistical motherfucker who is, in fact, smarter than you are, and who you hope gets a mouthful of shit someday, shortly before aspirating his own teeth. In this, he is excellent well played.
I actually liked the way the Silk Spectre / Nite Owl romance played out better, inasmuch as it was more playful and obvious and fun to watch. Both characters seem so standard next to the psycho lone nut, godlike blue nudist, mad preening pseudo-hero and rapist thug they must play against, and while I love reading them, they are pretty much the least interesting two characters in Watchmen. Here, they are given new life, more emotions, murderous rampages, and sexy banter. Too much? Ehh. And yes, I actually liked the last line of "as long as they think Jon's watching over us," because I take it in a kind of threatening, Damocles way - he'll smack us down if we fuck up - and not like little old throne Jehovah with the beard. More elder god style, but without the superfluous appendages. Or pants.
We are all of us living in the shadow of Manhattan. Or at least, the shadow of Little Manhattan, the sight of which shall surely influence a generational legion of moviegoers who will think a movie is incomplete without a glowing blue dong. Every movie is a formative experience for someone, remember. I did very much like the way Manhattan was played, his detachment something he is aware of, but only in a tangential way, not something experiential from his POV. Also, it is the only thing, seemingly, that he is powerless to affect. Billy Crudup did a great job of bringing humanity to someone often considered to be devoid of it by those who miss the point. Best part - fifty-foot Doc smashing through the roof of Karnak, apparently being scary just because he can be.
The Comedian is rude, crude, cynical, smart without being intelligent, nasty, violent, misogynist, plotting and as thoroughly fucking evil as a character can be. And he is done and done well in the movie. His death is one of the fight scenes that is extended, and gives you more of an idea of who he was, and what it took to actually kill someone like him. The flashback scenes of him are spot-on, and putting him in Dealey, 1963 is a stroke of cleverness that would be unendurable if it lasted any longer than it does.
Set aside time and go see it. Whether you like it or not, you will regret having missed it. I saw it at midnight opening, so I didn't get home 'til four. Lots of goth kids were there, in and among the old geeks. Old geeks get a weird respect in such an assemblage, as long as we don't speak until spoken to. Someone brought a "The End Is Nigh" sign to my viewing, which was excellent.
Hurm.