Watchmen

Opening night. It's rare I actually go to a movie on its opening night. Don't know why that is. Sure, for Star Wars and such I was there in line at midnight, but it's been a while for a Gordonian opening night. Tonight Eric, Dan, Sam (non-canine version), and I hit the theater for Watchmen, a film based on the riveting DC Comics graphic novel. The sa-weet trailer:


Wow.

Where to begin? A psychological treatise on child abuse, big brother, revenge, rape, mystery, and ends justifying the means. It's 1985, Richard Nixon is in his 5th term as president, and the "masks" have been banned since 1977. What's a retired crimefighter to do? Most reverted back into a life of citizenry except for Rorschach, a masked vigilante whose mask ever-evolves into an ink blot test.

The Comedian, a retired "mask", is killed. Conspiracy abounds. Is someone out to get the "masks"? Rorschach is pledged to find out, and other retirees are drawn into the fray.

The tension of the world builds as the Soviet Union invades Afghanistan. World War III is set to begin within a week, most pundits say. What's the use of hope and future when annihilation is imminent?

Dr. Manhattan, an accidental mutant, is the superpower key the government holds dear. "We have superman, and he is an American." Is his mere existence enough to thwart nuclear holocaust from the Soviets, or could he actually push the world to the brink?

A complex story in the novel that tries as hard as it can to relay the literary intricacies onto the screen. A close to three hour marathon than seems to go by in a heartbeat. However, there are points where the story lulls, namely in relationships. Still, it's epic viewing with stunning visuals (including gratuitious frontal shots of a huge blue Dr. Manhattan penis).

A visual delight, a heavy plot, but the full intricacies and web of the story loses some on the screen. I guess a 12-chapter graphic novel can only be compressed so much into three hours.

I'm not griping. The $9 ticket was juuuuuust about worth it. A good score of Full Price Minus for me.

They were tossing out posters at the screening, rubber-banded together. Unlike any foul ball at any baseball game I've ever been to, I snagged a ricochet off someone's hands of stone. Each individual character had their own poster. On this very blog I will include the one of Silk Spectre II because, well frankly, she has a SWEET ass.