If you've never read the original collection, I highly recommend it. It's a great examination of how the existence of colourful characters might affect the world around them, and what sort of people might take to such a risky but exciting lifestyle (not terribly healthy, it turns out). I read all 12 issues of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon's as they came out between 1986-1987, lending them to my friends who weren't collecting it so we could all agonize during the wait for the long-delayed final issue together.
Since then, the collected issues have never been out of print, published in a variety of formats (two of which I own: a thumbworn paperback for travel reading or lending, and the oversized hardcover Absolute Edition). Its text and subtext are studied in academia, and Time Magazine listed The Watchmen as one of the 100 greatest novels published since 1923. Not the 100 greatest graphic novels, mind; they put it right up there with The Great Gatsby and Slaughterhouse Five.
With all those accolades, it would be reasonable to think that another adaptation is both inevitable and unneeded, which was my position initially. When it was revealed that Lindelof's Watchmen was actually not a straightforward re-telling but what he described as a "re-mix," I was relieved, but just as skeptical, however, I have to admit I was perhaps a little bit intrigued as well. Imagining some type of ersatz sequel, perhaps with a senior citizen version of Nite-Owl, or the children of the Silk Spectre.
Then I read the open letter he published on Instagram, in the face of growing online resentment to his project.
“We have no desire to ‘adapt’ the twelve issues Mr. Moore and Mr. Gibbons created thirty years ago,” Lindelof said. “Those issues are sacred ground and they will not be retread nor recreated nor reproduced nor rebooted.
He continued, “They will, however, be remixed. Because the bass lines in those familiar tracks are just too good and we’d be fools not to sample them. Those original twelve issues are our Old Testament. When the New Testament came along it did not erase what came before it. Creation. The Garden of Eden. Abraham and Isaac. The Flood. It all happened. And so it will be with ‘Watchmen.’ The Comedian died. Dan and Laurie fell in love. Ozymandias saved the world and Dr. Manhattan left it just after blowing Rorschach to pieces in the bitter cold of Antarctica.”Reading this testimonial removed some, but not all of my apprehension. Reports came out about how Lindelof would be referencing real-world but lesser-known events like the Tulsa riots of 1921, which saw white rioters burn down an affluent neighbourhood of African-American business owners known as "the Black Wall Street." How he would be telling an original story set thirty years after the original tale.
By the time we settled in to watch it tonight, I was keenly curious, and even optimistic. The trailers had been intriguing, and the initial reviews were very favourable for the most part.
It's a wild ride, which asks for a fair amount of patience and faith from its viewers, but is loaded with rewarding references for those of us familiar with the source material. After a horrifying depiction of the Tulsa riots, we are whisked forward to Tulsa in the "present day," but one wholly unfamiliar to us. After all, we readers know that the U.S. not only won the Viet Nam war thanks to the practically omnipotent Dr. Manhattan, but that country is now the 51st state. Even in 1986, the skies of this world were filled with airships, and there were far more Indian take-out restaurants than hamburger joints or pizza parlors.
Even knowing it is a different world, it is still unsettling to see a masked police officer during a traffic stop, and stranger still to see him asking for permission to have the sidearm under his dash unlocked remotely from HQ after spotting something suspicious. At the end of the comics, Robert Redford is considering a run for the presidency, so to hear a child in a classroom reference "Redfordations" and to hear news reports suggesting he is still in office raises far more questions than it supplies answers (such as: were reparations actually made to the descendants of slaves in this universe?).
Watching Tulsa police Judd Crawford (Don Johnson) buddy up with masked vigilantes like Sister Night (Regina King) and Looking Glass (Tim Blake Nelson), whose existence in-universe has been illegal since the Keene Act of 1976 in the original comic causes further consternation, while speculation as to how the threat of transdimensional invasion, so critical to peace in the '80s, might be maintained three decades later, is answered with a mysterious and grotesque form of precipitation.
One episode in, the whole mystery to come isn't even perceivable as of yet, and I am still compelled to follow the story. The characters are flawed and complex, which is completely in keeping with the comics, and a number of contradictions need to be explored. For instance, we are told (and can see even in this first episode) that racism is going to be a key focus of HBO's Watchmen, which seems both timely and wholly appropriate. In my mind, the universe of the comics felt more tolerant, with gay couples shown holding hands in fancy restaurants, something that jumped off the background of the page thirty years back. On the other hand, there are also references to Silhouette, a lesbian hero belonging to the 1940s Minutemen, being driven from the group after being outed, and murdered shortly afterward. Perhaps things in this universe aren't as rosy as I remember them - the first episode seems to underscore that.
The action is well-directed, evocative and imaginative, but there isn't as much of it as you might expect in a comic book story (I'm looking at you, Martin Scorcese and Francis Ford Coppola) and it is by no means the focus of the story. Likewise, I only felt compelled to pause our viewing tonight twice in order to explain the significance of something onscreen that caused me to audibly react.
Regardless, Lindelof has established his bona fides, both as a storyteller and fellow fan of Watchmen. Using an old comic book's alternate universe as a lens to look at real, undertold American history as well as to examine societal racism that more and more of us are beginning to understand is persistent because it is tragically systemic is a bold approach.
It's too early to tell if such an approach will actually work, and or whether or not it can be used to weave a satisfying story for both long-term fans like myself and a wider tv audience which has probably never read the comics. But for now, that boldness, a slick visual style worthy of Dave Gibbons' nine-panel layouts and a willingness to let viewers flail around a little before finding their footing (assuming we ever will!) will have my family and I tuning in to Watchmen for the duration.
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