A Frank Review of "Watchmen" (2009)

The Short Version? Adult Super-Heroes Face Nuclear Armageddon.
What Is It? Action-Drama.
Who's In It? Nobody you know.
Should I See It? Yes.

I always hesitate to admit this, but truth be told, I've never been impressed with Alan Moore's and Dave Gibbon's Watchmen comic book mini-series/graphic novel. A great deal of my reaction is due to having read it in 1993-- years after The Dark Knight Returns, Marshal Law, Brat Pack, and even some of Moore's own Marvel/Miracleman. There was a quote years past that proclaimed DKR the brass band playing at the funeral of super-hero comics, and Watchmen the autopsy. Moore's intricate, clinical story certainly bore that out for me, but the shock was never there, and I couldn't connect with any of the characters. I suppose it's a remarkable bit of craft, and my negative opinion has softened over time, but I expect I'll never be a fan. The text portions were too precious and pretentious, and I mostly hooked into the origin sequences, as I've always been a sucker for first person narration. Still though, a book like Watchmen felt inevitable to me. Only Frank Miller would combine Micky Spillane's hyperbolic pulp detective storytelling with '80s Walter Hill action swagger, political satire, and post-apocalyptic super-hero fantasy. Watchmen was just a typically British piss-take on the natural evolution of the melodrama originated by Stan Lee in the '60s, standing out mostly for staging and perspective comparable to Orson Welles. It was good at what it did, but someone else would have gotten around to it eventually.

Once I saw the first trailer for Watchmen, I felt confident it would improve on the graphic novel. All of Dave Gibbon's cinematic touches, which seemed to pad the story and slow its momentum in print, are quickly and cleanly effected in their proper milieu. Moore's cold characterization is enlivened by living actors imbuing his words with their emotions. All that iconic imagery and ominous tone, too native to comics, seemed revolutionary when ported to celluloid. I mean, in a world still impressed by Batman breaking legs, how much more rock and roll could you get than full frontal male nudity and dogs fighting over a little girl's remains?

I am proud to stand by my initial impression. Watchmen as a movie kicked my ass in a way the book never could. At nearly three hours, I felt no fatigue, as the film is swollen to near bursting with fine performances, clever dialogue, brilliant visuals, dynamic action, intriguing choices, and the barest hint of fat. It turns and it turns, never allowing you to take it for granted, always shining a new facet at your eyes, converting you into an entranced magpie. There is some gloriously extreme violence here, occasionally ridiculous, but wonderfully conveying the horrors of this fascistic vision. There is no glory to be found in this type of aggression, as the abilities of those most capable of inflicting damage inspire not awe but terror in their application.

One of the interesting things about the book's translation is how characters played musical chairs in terms of interest. Dan Dreiberg was very much the point of view character in Moore's original. A dumpy, middle-aged Peter Parker, this Nite Owl was past his prime in a way readers could relate to, allowing them to revel in his triumphant return. Patrick Wilson does a fine job playing Dreiberg, despite being far to young and fit, but his story arc is too weak to hold up against the competition. In the book, Dreiberg is probably the only character with a perceptible pulse, but on film there are so many more fantastic images and nuanced subjects, Nite Owl pales by comparison. Dreiberg's most interesting contribution is a bout of impotence, but this failing is communicated so clumsily it takes an assumptive leap to even determine that's what was happening. That the resolution is bothy swift and laughably glossy renders Nite Owl impotent once again, just in impact rather than text.

Dr. Manhattan was my least favorite character from the comic books, and the best example of my feeling that the author couldn't connect me to any of his character's emotions, so that I couldn't differentiate them terribly much from Manhattan's isolation. The film greatly enhances the Manhattan persona, so that the character very much dominates the film and the concern of the viewer. You're often left unsure if Billy Crudup delicate, sensitive voice is expressing the sorrow of Manhattan's existence, or if it's a patronizing fabrication from a demigod to wretched humanity. The performance is pitch-perfect, and the only way to have improved on the unearthliness of the CGI being would be to look toward stop-motion ala Harryhausen. I'm proud that a big budget American film has a computer generated cock of substantial size swinging through it for several significant scenes. However, Dr. Manhattan's overly-endowed body doesn't really jibe with the comics, where I always enjoyed the contrast between the being's nigh-omnipotence and his middling pecker. It reminds one of sculptures featuring Ancient Greek heroes that emphasized the importance of athleticism over their minor, flaccid manhood.

I feel like Malin Akerman has been unfairly judged as Silk Spectre. In the book, Laurie Jupiter was a whiny shrew, which interestingly is excised by greatly reducing the character's role in the film. However, combined with actualized stunts and sensual embodiment, Silk Spectre suddenly becomes an empowered, desirable heroine. While this betrays Moore's intention to show both Spectre's as victims of this elaborate aggressive male fantasy, I feel it's healthier to show the woman as controlling her own destiny and pivotal in the unfolding events. Akerman doesn't exactly rate an Oscar nod, but she serves the needs of the film, and presents a Silk Spectre I can actually root for. My sole nagging concern is that the subplot involving her predecessor/mother is given short-shrift, with forced revelations and a lack of true resonance. Carla Gugino is solid as the original Silk Spectre, but she's just not pathetic enough as the aged Sally Jupiter, here a slightly toasted WASP. Her old-page make-up setting practical effects back twenty years doesn't help.

Matthew Goode's miscasting as Ozymandias is where the real trouble begins. From his too-thin frame to his bad dye job and especially ze faint German accent, his portrayal fairly screams "Bond villain!" There is no mystery here, no gut-wrenching reveal-- Goode is obvious and idiotic.

I've heard complaints about Jackie Earle Haley's voice as Kovacs/Rorschach, but I think his obvious affectation suits the character perfectly. Unlike Christian Bale's Batman, Haley can enunciate, and I feel his performance in general is far superior to Heath Ledger's Paul Giamatti impersonation from The Dark Knight. If anything, the only flaw is that Haley is so effective at conveying his power and menace, the ridiculousness of Walter Kovacs never quite comes across. Kovacs is a weird extremist nerd, where Haley only enables the popular misinterpretation of Rorschach as a "bad ass." If this were another god damned franchise picture like "X-Men," Haley would have dominated the story and screen time as this film's Wolverine. Blessedly, the screenwriters made sure to tell a story about a group of characters, not craft an action vehicle for a sociopath.

The Comedian poses a similar hazard, as Jeffrey Dean Morgan is surprisingly charismatic in the role. Production photos really did a disservice to my initial reaction to Morgan, as in still he looked ridiculous, but in performance he completely sells the character. In the graphic novel, it's amazing someone didn't kill the Comedian before his demise could begin the story. Here, the audience is bound to miss Morgan once he departs the picture, and a sordid twist familiar to comic book readers is understandable when presented with Morgan's on-screen charm. The Comedian is unquestionably a piece of shit, but utterly irresistible.

There is some inexcusable confusion in the translation from comic to film, though. Who the Minutemen were and what they represented are not adequately explained, so the disparity between the original super-team and the abortive Watchmen is never illustrated. In fact, it isn't even really clear what the various leading super-beings really have to do with each other in the film. The role of Hollis Mason is not explained until well after he's introduced, so that the Nite Owl legacy is never imparted to the uninitiated. Folks seemed to enjoy the flashback imagery during the credit sequence, but connecting it to the story was made difficult by a narrative to disjointed and presumptuous to be followed upon initial exposure. I love films that are enriched by multiple viewings, but basics of the story are offered in such an obtuse manner that even diligent viewers will be left frustrated and confused without the benefit of foreknowledge. I'm reminded less of the non-linear storytelling techniques of early Tarantino, which demanded but rewarded the audience's attention, and more the cryptic arrogance of the Wachowskis' Matrix trilogy.

I'm not sure if director Zack Snyder was shooting for surrealism, but the effect was unavoidable. Some of the practical make-up, as with the prosthetics used to create Richard Nixon, are comically bad. Some of the blood sprays and the entire Vietnam sequence would have felt more at home in a video game cut scene than a serious picture. There was also a back lot feel to many of the sets, and some questionable bit casting choices, that made me think Snyder had brought sequences from the film out of an alternate dimensional 1990 where Sam Hamm's script was filmed by Tim Burton. I also appreciate the time and theme appropriate music, but I hate when source is painfully overused and obvious. With three of Dylan's biggest hits, two of Leonard Cohen's, and fucking Simon and Garfunkle, you'd be excused for thinking someone had left the oldies station on after the pre-show advertising slides. Where's Kraftwerk? Television? Grace Jones? Compared to Hendrix, even Zep would be comparatively obscure.

Finally, the changes made to the ending, while understandable, failed me. The gruesome spectacle is replaced with a phony city in dust, and there's a pat tacked-on feel to the final scenes. Rorschach's final moments feel overblown and excessively emotive, while a touch of irony from the book is lost to edits and a sad semblance of the dreaded back-door sequel. Even with as loving a tribute as this feature was, there are still bits like these to leave a bad taste in one's mouth.

Complaints dutifully lodged, I can't say I'd be the least bit surprised if I, an inveterate cheapskate who prefers vast expanses of time in between viewings of a movie, pays to see this again in IMAX. I'll maybe even brave a dollar show before it hits video. I'll wait with baited breath for the extended director's cut. Among my best liked narrative strands from the book was "Tales of the Black Freighter," so the ancillary animation will now be a must see. Despite its flaws, "Watchmen" is a feast for the senses that transports you to worlds unseen since the days of Ridley Scott's "Blade Runner" and Terry Gilliam's finest. Returning to the spirit of Stan Lee hucksterism, it's an instant classic that inspires its own tradition, the most faithful comic-to-screen adaptation of all time. I don't feel like the graphic novel was as revolutionary as its reputation, but there's never been a comic book movie like Watchmen, such a singular work that I can't reasonably expect to see its like again until the generation of filmmakers it will inspire rise to its challenge.

Who's Who Update '87 Vol.5: Watchmen Pin-Up

Art by Dave Gibbons.

Who's Who Update '87 Vol.5: Watchmen Text

Who's Who Update '87 Vol.4: Minutemen

Beginning our Watchmen weekend is the profile page for their predecessors, the Minutemen. Art by Dave Gibbons.

Emanuelle in America (Part 3, 1976)

Character Name:
Actress: Laura Gemser
Actual Movie Title: Emanuelle in America
Known Aliases: "Brutal Nights," "Black Emanuelle en Amérique"
Country of Origin: Italy
Character Nationality: U.S.A.
Character Age:
Occupation: Photographer (news, nudes)
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
Religion:
Married:
Locales: New York
Release Date: January 5, 1977 (Italy)
Director: Joe D'Amato
DVD: Emanuelle In America (1976)
Stats: Third Black Emanuelle, 2nd with Laura Gemser

Story: Emanuelle takes in a sauna (fully nude, 'natch,) and is joined by Gemini (Lorraine De Selle,) who confesses that Eric van Darren hasn't given her the medallion that signals a zodiac girl being his bedmate for the night in two months. Gemini once "answered him back," and is being punished by being sexually teased without authorized release. She refuses to leave, "And go where? To go back to Spain to my father's dirty restaurant? Gemini is obsessed with the boss and her pampered life, and can't stand the thought of those grabby truckers back home. Emanuelle likes the occasional trucker herself, but will have none of van Darren's conditioning. "Will you stop it!" Emanuelle demands while shaking Gemini, who protests "You think you're different!" Emanuelle smugly replies, "I certainly do. I like choosing my men, and never for money." Gemini breaks down, desperate for some kind of love, and Emanuelle gives it to her in spades. Cue '70s porn funk music, bad jump cuts, and glistening bodies making out.

Emanuelle receives the medallion, and plays up her enthusiasm in van Darren's bedroom... only to turn a factious offer to flog her into a scathing lecture of the poor little rich boy. "Shut up, stupid bitch!" Emanuelle continues about how she thinks women terrify van Darren, and how he has to pay for everything he gets. Eric van Darren begins to like this provocative game, but only to a point, as the boss clutches Emanuelle by the nape of the neck. "It's going to be fun for me to tame you; a new diversion." Tubby van Darren gets to feed her his chubby, blessedly off-screen.

The cut to a game of pool offers a symbolic transition to rival Alan Moore's "Watchmen," or at least Benny Hill's "The Benny Hill Show." Emanuelle is in the game room with the rest of the zodiac, fully clothed for once, and hoping to join Eric van Darren and Duke Alfredo Elvize high stakes game of backgammon. No wait, poker dice? James Bond wept! Why not Yahtzee, fer chrissakes? Emanuelle rolls a Full House, a Straight, Four Aces, and most especially van Darren, who still insists he never loses. Well, when the Duke rolls out in his crappy sedan the next morning, we see Emanuelle has stowed away in the back seat, after claiming to be headed for bed. Emanuelle had used her winnings to buy her freedom, and asked "Would you please let me off at the first bus stop?"

Alfredo Elvize, Duke of Mount Elba has something in common with the Emanuelle: a desire to screw van Darren. Maybe that's why he only freaks a little about his extra passenger. The Duke with a 400 year old lineage of Venetian nobility soon offers to take Emanuelle to his golden palace on the grand canal, and she smells a story.

Meanwhile, Emanuelle's boyfriend Bill is at his apartment when he finds out over the phone from his newspaper editor that his piece on illegal arms trading is being sidelined in favor of the more sensational harem story. "You mean to say that my political pieces can't be used? ...She's a monster, but she's my girl and I love her. Can't wait to have her back in my arms again... Where is she now?" Following that lead to Venice, Bill 'ol boy...

At the Duke's digs, Emanuelle meets his wife, Laura Elvize (Paola Senatore.) Laura seems to like her husband's new friend, though Mrs. Elvize's heralding of matrimony falls on deaf ears. Bill is still on his way, however. "We have a very special relationship. We're very free, both of us."

Later that night, Alfredo and Laura have a shouting match behind closed doors after the wife is caught in bed with another man. The scene attracts Emanuelle's attention, and she's invited into the drama with a champagne. Laura excuses herself to take a bath, while the Duke sets about seducing Emanuelle with the mouth whoopee. Laura returns to sneak in as an oral pinch licker, which at first seems to unnerve Emanuelle, but not for long. Emanuelle revs up the couple, but stealthily departs before things get too serious; her unique form of marriage councilling.

Emanuelle meets Bill at the airport, who confesses that while he missed his best girl, he did "console" himself in her absence. Bill excuses himself to make a phone call, but instead books the first flight to London. Emanuelle is pissed that Bill couldn't arrange to stay a few, or even one day. "But no, just a couple of hours between one plane and the other." Bill has his own work to pursue, but earmarked a sexual pit stop. The giddy couple, anxious for available space, find themselves in a standing fuck outside a symphonic practice hall, to classical accompaniment. Bill's headed back to his away plane before the other performance is through...

...to be continued...

A Frank Review of "Coraline" (2009)

The Short Version? Girl goes through the looking glass; finds wonders and terrors.
What Is It? Family Horror Adventure.
Who's In It? Famous voices and lovely armatures.
Should I See It? Yes.

Let me just start by saying Coraline is one of the finest stop motion features I've ever seen, both in terms of story and animation. It was so fluid, in fact, that I initially assumed I was only watching CGI mimicking clay. I'll follow by adding that as much as I love the process, most full-length stop-motion spectacles leave me cold (yes, even The Nightmare Before Christmas.) Not only was Coraline an outstanding exception under normal circumstances, but I was especially blessed to catch the experience in 3D. There's another process that has improved by leaps and bounds, though there was a moment or two where the mass of details spinning in different dimensions tripped up my poor, weak eyes.

As in Pan's Labyrinth, we have a precocious girl escaping reality into a fantasy world that leads her to surprisingly scary territory. Unlike Ofelia in Pan's, Coraline has an engaging personality that overcomes her sometimes unpleasant attitude. Also, Coraline is truly a fantasy film with an effective spookiness, where Pan's was a period drama bait-and-switch. If you couldn't tell, I'm trying to say I preferred Coraline to Guillermo del Toro's art house favorite. Just to salt the wound, I'll added that Coraline will please young and old, as there's plenty enough meat on its bones without resorting to actual bloodshed, and entertainment value to sustain anyone who sees it.

Dakota Fanning provides the voice for the heroine, both far more believable and intelligent than what one typically expects from this fare. Robert Bailey Jr. is solid as Coraline's sort-of friend Wybie, but my girlfriend only fell for his silent version in the "other" place. Teri Hatcher as Coraline's mother is fine, while her Other Mother could join the likes of Cruella de Vil and the Wicked Witch of the West in unforgettable villainess territory. Keith David as the cat steals every second of screen time in which his voice is present. Ian McShane and Absolutely Fabulous' French & Saunders have small but amusing parts.

As I've mentioned, Coraline is a treat for all, even with the surprisingly creepy elements that fill the third act. While those are great, there are some problems in between the scares. A game of great consequence is played with unexplained rules, and there's a lapse in time toward the end that doesn't make much sense. The resolution is also a bit too neat, with the resolution to Coraline's issues going into her journey left unaddressed in a satisfying manner. Still, the film is such a treat for all the senses, not least of which the brains they run to, rarely left so nourished by "kiddie" movies.

1986 Challenge of the GoBots Comic Book Ad

Look, I grew up poor, so the only Transformers I could afford were the little crappy Matchbox-size ones like Bumblebee, or cassette tapes for Soundwave. Now they've got a mega-million sequel coming, and my toy of choice G.I. Joe gets a flick this summer as well. So my question is, where's the motherfucking GoBots love, bitches? Not even Direct-to-DVD? Starring Brian Austin Green and Roma Maffia? Represent for GoBotron, yo!