My review of the Watchmen movie...

It's no secret that I was a little disappointed in Watchmen when I first came out of the theater. It felt strange to be so, because really, it was fantastically faithful to the source through 90% of the film, and there were some outstanding performances (and a few mediocre ones). Still, something felt off about the whole thing, and I've been working to figure out just what that was. I have some thoughts on the matter, but first, let's look at the good, the bad, and the iffy...and beware, spoilers abound – if you haven’t seen the film and plan to, I’d suggest waiting to read this review till afterwards.

The Good:
- Dr Manhattan: Billy Crudup did an amazing job of capturing a being only human in shape, barely connected to the race of man, a being distant and nearly emotionless. His movements and body language felt alien, which is what Dr Manhattan *should* feel like. Yes, there was a prominence of blue dong in the movie, which a lot of people seem to focus on (hard not to in some ways, being that damned, the doc is hung like a donkey), but I actually found that it’s frequent onscreen presence served to do exactly what it was meant to do – desensitize the viewer from his nudity, and force them to disconnect from his character. Brilliant, when you think about it – and not just because it glowed.
- Rorschach: I could go into great details about how awesome Rorschach was in this film, and though I will touch a few, I will try to keep them brief. One, perfect casting. Jackie Earle Haley absolutely nailed the body language, voice, and demeanor of Rorschach. From his constant gravelly monotone to the very subtle “hrrmms” (a signature sound of Rorschach in the comic) to the very clever way of displaying the character’s sheer athleticism without making him do Spider-man level feats of strength and agility, the character couldn’t have stepped from the comic pages and been more perfect. The *only* critique I have is that they had to cut the explanation of his constantly shifting mask, which gave depth and understanding to his motivation as a masked vigilante.
- The Comedian: Again, an excellent choice. Jeffrey Dean Morgan actually managed to make me kind of like and empathize with the Comedian at points, which I never did when reading the comic. He very carefully hints at the madness and solitude in which the Comedian lives, a man who looks at the world and sees how mankind can never be more than barbarous, and turns himself into a parody of that “noble barbarity” as the ultimate joke. Good stuff here, definitely.
- Night Owl II: Patrick Wilson nailed the schlubby, geeky persona of Dreiberg, while at the same time managing to be a pretty kickass Night Owl II. I do think the film could have given a little more glimpse into how ineffective Dan feels without being in the costume – the first sex scene with Silk Spectre II hints at it, but without showing him fondling his super hero memorabilia before being able to get it up, it leaves the viewer curious as to what happened. Still, the actor nailed the part (and the girl!) and so can be forgiven. I also liked the change in the script which has Night Owl II witness Rorschach’s destruction at the end – it sold the point that the two really were friends, and how deeply NOII cared for the psychopathic detective.


The Bad:
- Silk Specter II: Malin Akerman is outstandingly hot, but her scenes came off as wooden and unaffected. It’s pretty terrible when the most “alien” character in the film, Doctor Manhattan, shows more depth and emotion than his supposed “last link to humanity”. Still, did I mention that she is outstandingly hot? And her nude sex scenes were an awesome way of balancing the prominence of blue wang in the film…but still, not enough to forgive her.
- Adrian Veidt: Matthew Goode tried, but he just wasn’t the man for the task. Not pretty boy enough, not charismatic enough to pull off this character. Ozymandias was supposed to be the pretty playboy, loaded with likeability, intelligence, and charm. Goode was none of these, and perhaps because of this, his role as the villain of the piece is too easy to discern, to easily telegraphed. It should have come as much a shock to us as it did to the heroes that he was behind it all, but it didn’t, and that’s a shame.
- The music: Despite a few songs that I felt were excellently used (“Flight of the Valkyries” and “All Along the Watchtower”), a lot of the music in this felt bizarrely placed, and it really pulled me out of the movie. With the exception of “99 Luftballoons” (which was again awkwardly placed), none of the music was from the 80’s in which this movie was supposed to be set. Granted, this was an alternate 80’s in which Vietnam became the 51st state and Nixon was elected 5 times, but still, a musical nod would have been great. In particular, some Gary Newman would have been awesome to establish the disconnection of certain characters – look, I just pulled that out of my ass and yet it would have worked great. Also, while I love Leonard Cohen, his rendition of “Hallelujah” is NOT the song to have steamy superhero sex to.
- Richard Nixon: This portrayal of Tricky Dick was so terribly, laughably bad that I am not even going to bother to look up who played him. The makeup was RIDICULOUS, absolutely horrible, and the guy who played him sounded like a guy who does a really bad Nixon impersonation but thinks he’s really good at it. I really have no idea why they fucked up on this one – it’s not like there haven’t been some great Nixon portrayals recently – but the fact that they did and that he has a lot more screen presence than in the book really pulled me out of the movie every time he was onscreen. And that nose, that ridiculous nose – how is it possible to make a prosthetic nose that looks *more* phallic than the giant blue schlong on one of the main heroes?

The Iffy:
- The altered ending: Yes, I know it would have been difficult to do the original ending with the giant telepathic “space” squid. It would have required a lot more movie time, a confusing backstory, and a willingness to believe in huge advances in teleportation, genetic manipulation, and psychic powers. The problem with the latter especially is that the Watchmen story is about non-powered heroes (save for the Doc), in what is in many ways “our” world. If there are psychics, and they are able to create the powerful broadcast that is in the comics, it kind of robs the Doc of some of his uniqueness. So yeah, I understand the change to the ending, but at the same time, something feels wrong about it. The whole world teaming up against Doctor Manhattan doesn’t seem to have the long-term uniting power of an otherworldly threat – in the comic, the fact that there was “proof” of a hostile alien threat unites the world because in the end, despite our political differences, we are *all* human, and thus would in theory lay aside our differences to protect our common blood. This is a credible belief, for the most part. The problem with Doctor Manhattan being made the “villain” is that, regardless of his current form, he is still essentially “human”. As a “human”, he betrays us – how would this lead to unification? I think it would more lead to intense paranoia – if the up-till-then “good guy” Doc could turn wicked and against you, who else would? Not so unifying a cause, and the movie is weakened because of it.
- Adrian’s cat: They cut the story of the squid, they should have left the cat out of the movie. Without the backstory of genetic engineering to explain it, it seemed weird and out of place, and while the completist in me applauds its presence, the viewer in me wishes they had left it on the cutting room floor.
- Slow motion fight scenes: Yes, they were cool in 300. Yes, they made the fights in that movie look like they were ripped from the graphic novel. But in this movie, which really is more noir than action, the slow motion fight scenes only served to slow down a movie that was already suffering from pacing issues.
- The faithfulness of the adaptation: Yes, I know – it is insanely hypocritical of me to say that I disliked the change to the ending and to a number of elements from the comic and to then say that the faithfulness to the comic hurt this movie…but it did. This is largely due to pacing – a graphic novel works as written because the reader controls the pace. You are able to linger on images as long as you want or need to, and skim through dialogue and exposition as quickly as you would like to make the story flow properly in your head. A movie, however, removes that control from you when it changes you from active reader to passive viewer, and this really caused the movie to slow down dramatically in spots. This, combined with the disjointed jumps in narrative (a thing that works in graphic novels because it is usual the focus of its own “comic” or segment), makes the movie seem kind of slopped together and ill thought out.

My final thoughts are these: Watchmen was long considered to be an unfilmable project, and in many ways, this movie only serves to prove that point. There is no way that the movie could have pleased the rabid fans of the story (like me), and there is no way that, in attempting to do so, the movie could widely appeal to the non-comic readers of the world. It becomes a movie doomed by its need to remain slavishly devoted to the source, while at the same time not being able to be slavishly devoted to the source and still attract the casual viewer. Portions of it were perfect, other portions terrible, and it was like a great pendulum swinging over the entire project. After having reflected on the film for the past few days, I don’t think it is as bad as I did when I first walked out of the theater – I will watch it again, and I have no doubts that I will probably find it far more enjoyable on a second viewing. That said, I still am somewhat saddened that, for reaching so far, it failed to grasp the greatness that it could have had.

Still, it’s better than Batman & Robin. Huzzah!

Song of the Day: Hooker With a Penis - Tool

Hooker With a Penis - Tool

I met a boy wearing Vans,
501s, and a dope beastie-tee,
nipple rings, and new tattoos
that claimed that he was OGT,
from '92, the first EP.
and in between sips of coke
he told me that he thought
we were sellin' out,
layin' down,
suckin' up to the man.
Well now I've got some
advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point the finger
you should know that I'm the man,
and if I'm the man,
then you're the man,
and he's the man as well
so you can point that fuckin' finger up your ass.
All you know about me is what I've sold you, Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name.
I sold my soul to make a record, Dip shit,
and you bought one.
So I've got some advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point
your finger You should know that I'm the man.
If I'm the fuckin' man
then you're the fuckin' man as well,
So you can Point that fuckin' finger up your ass.
All you know about me is what I've sold you, Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name.
I sold my soul to make a record, Dip shit,
And you bought one.
All you read and wear or see and hear on TV
Is a product begging for your
Fatass dirty dollar so ...
Shut up and
Buy my new record
Send more money
Fuck you, buddy.

REFLECTIONS:
Tool epitomizes the genre that I call "angry white boy music"; most of it is loud, involves screaming or harsh vocalization, pounding beats, and in general it's music that you just feel right listening to when, say, beating the fuck out of someone. I will admit that there is a pretty good amount of angry white boy music in my collection, for at various times in my life, it fit the bill entirely. I needed that music, because I needed release, and if I couldn't be the angry aggressive bastard, then at least my music could be.

Times change, though. I've found that lately my taste for such things is fairly limited. I don't mind listening to it if I want to get someplace fast, or if I want to amp up for a fighter practice or some such thing, but for general listening, it seems to just wear on my nerves. I think one of the problems with a lot of this type of music is the same problem I have with a lot of gangsta rap - it doesn't really *say* anything.

Oh, yeah, I get the "irony" of selling out to write a song bitching that someone calls you a sellout who is a sell out themselves based on all the "trendy" things they wear...but really, what is this if not mental masturbation set to a pounding beat? Are they trying to convince themselves that it's ok that they sold out? Or that calling anyone a sell out is stupid, because everyone who makes it is a sell out? DUH! We get that, no really. It's nothing to be angry about...so being angry about it makes the song come of as immature and whiney, not angry and meaningful.

It's almost as pretentious as these reflections...(ooh look, more irony!)

Tomorrow's Song: Stars Look Down - Rush

Song of the Day: Eternal Flame - The Bangles

When you have a music library that's pretty damned excessive, it can sometimes lead to you listening to only a very small, very familiar portion of the list. I'm feeling the need to expand myself a bit, and to revisit some of my favorite music...and thought it might be neat to share it here.

Here is what I am going to do - every day that I get a chance to do so, I am going to post the lyrics to a "Song of the Day" - I've loaded every song in my library to my playlist, and have randomized it. Each day, I will play the first song, and then post the lyrics here and possibly give a bit of thought to what I feel they mean. There will be exceptions, of course...purely instrumental songs, or songs with foreign lyrics where I am unable to translate the meaning will be removed from the list and not posted as they are encountered. And, when I am done listing a song, it too will be removed from the list, so I don't lose track of what has and hasn't been covered.

So let's get this party started...

Eternal Flame - The Bangles

Close your eyes
Give me your hand, darlin’
Do you feel my heart beating
Do you understand
Do you feel the same
Am I only dreaming
Is this burning an eternal flame

I believe it’s meant to be, darlin’
I watch you when you are sleeping
You belong to me
Do you feel the same
Am I only dreaming
Or is this burning an eternal flame

Say my name
Sun shines through the rain
A whole life so lonely
Now come and ease the pain
I don't want to lose this feeling, ohhh..

(Instrumental)

Say my name
Sun shines through the rain
A whole life so lonely
Now come and ease the pain
I don't want to lose this feeling, ohhh..

Close your eyes
Give me your hand,
Do you feel my heart beating
Do you understand
Do you feel the same
Am I only dreaming
Or is this burning an eternal flame

Give me your hand, darlin’
Do you feel my heart beating
Do you understand
Am I only dreaming
Or is this burning an eternal flame...

REFLECTIONS:

Ah, the Bangles...I remember how much I loved them back in the late 80's. Pop with a hint of punk, hot girls singing cool songs. Lyrically, there isn't a lot of depth here; it's a pretty sappy, fairly cliched expression of romantic love - frankly, an emotion that I've not had a whole lot of great luck with. Perhaps it is my embittered nature that keeps me from enjoying this song as I once might have, but listening to it now, I don't see a lot there. Do I understand? How could I not? There is no depth of imagery, no metaphorical content to confuse or bewilder or even really challenge the brain in the slightest...but then, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe such feelings should be so plain, so unhindered, so frank.

Tomorrow's song: Hooker With a Penis - Tool (This should be interesting...)

On Cowardice...

There is little in life I despise more than a coward.

A coward is not just a person who lacks bravery - nay, a person may be faint of heart yet still not be cowardly in nature. A coward is a person who KNOWS their deeds are lowly, who KNOWS that what they do is sneaky and contemptible, who KNOWS that what they do is wrong, and yet they do it anyway! Willfully! This, friends, is a coward.

A coward is a man who woos another man's wife, whilst calling that man friend, who plots to cuckold him and push him from his home and family.

A coward is a woman who sucks the joy out of a man's life, yet stays with him like a parasite and lives off his earnings until she finds another to cling to, when she then stabs that first and faithful fellow in the back and leaves his soul to die.

A coward is a man who so fears his lady's wrath, he makes excuses for the lies he told to avoid the fury of her ire.

A coward is the vermin who insults a woman behind the screen of anonymity, but would never do so to her face.

It is this latter that has me most aggrieved, for a friend of mine, dear and true, is the farthest from a coward as one may find; in her bravery, she keeps a place where anyone may post their thoughts on her anonymously, for good or ill. It is there that some base villain called her a whore.

Oh, well played, you flea-ridden turd of a leprous criminal. Bravo, that you could so boldly call a woman whore, knowing your face and deed would be unseen. I am sure that when the great deeds of brave men and women are sung, yours will be amongst those heralded for its finery. The sarcasm, it burns!

Know this, cowards - I am done with you. I despise you. I will pray with every essence of my being that one day, I am in a position to mete justice upon thee, and that I will have the pleasure of striking you down and relieving this world of the pain that is you. You are, each and every one of you, a waste of fucking oxygen, a pestilence upon this Earth. If you were to catch some miserable disease and be forced to the streets, a beggar sickly both inside and out - I would laugh at you. To your face. I would spit upon you, and that would be all the grace you would ever get from me.

You've earned it.

One Wish (Warning: Racy!)

Oh, give me but one wish and I would ask,
For no great wealth, or earthly gotten gain,
Nor servants that would do my every task,
Nor power over sun, or wind, or rain,
For all these things, I truly would replace,
To pass the night within my love's embrace.

For wealth could not my passion's fire sate,
No price is there to stay my yearning heart,
No princely sum could ever compensate,
For time that she and I must spend apart,
And thus, no fortune had, I wish to see,
Instead I wish with her to always be.

And servants to obey my each command,
Would idle sit, a wasted wish to be,
For there is not of them I could demand,
To set my soul's desires flying free,
Nor could a harem ever dare compare,
To she of dreams, in daydream driven stare.

The sun may try to slay me with its heat,
Its rays are dim next to our passion's flame,
The wind and rain may in a tempest beat,
Upon us, but will die away in shame,
No force of nature ever could prevail,
Or cause my lust for her to ever pale.

But oh, when I am held within her arms,
And soft caresses dance across my skin,
Away fall troubles, all the worldly harms,
Removing all my woes, my fears, my sin,
And bolts electric leap through out my form,
When laying next to her, so soft and warm.

And when she pulls me close, into a kiss,
I am the beast enchanted by the song,
Her siren's tongue, it weaves melodious,
And leaves me tamed, no fear of right or wrong,
Her lips with mine, a lover's tango dance,
As we give way to simple, sweet romance.

Then soon, we are consumed by our desire,
And frantically, we strip each other bare,
Like panicked fauna fleeing from a fire,
We rush, and at each other's garments tear,
Till free of those constricting bonds are we,
To press together, naked, warm, and free.

And what delicious warmth in her I've found,
As, hardened from our rush, inside I slip,
My heart beats furious with every sound,
Each sigh of passion that escapes her lips,
And rhythmically, we two begin to move,
Our burning lusts together there to soothe.

With perfect thrusting beat our bodies slide,
Enveloped in the passion that we share,
Orgasmic pulses build as we collide,
That wash away our every worldly care,
We feel the pressure building deep within,
With ecstatic release soon to begin.

My hands across her body freely roam,
To touch her milky flesh, each curve to feel,
Each breast a perfect pliant pleasure dome,
And each caress is perfect and surreal,
And then her breathing quickens, 'neath my form,
As tightening, I feel her body storm.

Then thrashing like ship tossed by the sea,
Orgasms overtake my lover sweet,
And soon I join her in her ecstasy,
We draw together, fully and complete,
Our voices join, and moans, they fill the air,
As I explode within my lover fair.

Exhausted then, together do we sleep,
Still locked together in a tight embrace,
And in our slumber, comforting and deep,
Within our dreams, still passion do we chase,
Till waking, when we start all o'er anew,
To once again such ecstasy pursue.

So give me not of riches, this I plea,
Nor servants that each want may then obey,
Nor power o'er the elements that be,
There's but one thing I wish for every day,
And that's to waken at the sleeping side,
Of one who shares my passion deep inside.

16 Random Facts About Me

1. I honestly think I was born in the wrong century.

2. I often blame myself for the faults of others.

3. I have more maternal instincts than most mothers I've met.

4. Emotionally, I spend 90% of my time enthusiastic and happy, 7% of my time apathetic and weary, 2% of my time terribly sad, .75% of my time angry, and .25% of my time a touch on the fatalistic side.

5. I love Joss Whedon.

6. I suffer from Musical Tourettes - at any given moment, I am likely to burst into song, quote a song lyric, or a hum a tune that will get stuck in your head and leave you hating me for as long as it takes to finally extract it from your ear, throw it to the ground, and stop on it mercilessly till its a twitching mass of musical madness done to death.

7. Did I mention I can be overly verbose?

8. Top five things that turn me on in a girl: Intelligence, vocabulary, open-mindedness, wanderlust, and passion for at least one aspect of her life.

9. I've never been out of the country in my adult life. It's something I plan to remedy soon.

10. There is nothing in life that I love more than being a daddy.

11. I have a firm belief in a code of chivalry, to which I try to remain true. It may seem archaic, but it keeps me sane.

12. I am a lucid dreamer.

13. I live my life without regrets; I have long since learned that regrets solve nothing, and do nothing but harm me. This doesn't mean I can't learn from mistakes - it just means I refuse to dwell on them.

14. I eat when I am miserable. Food, to some, is a drug to be abused.

15. I've done things most people probably haven't imagined. Some were grand, some were horrible...some I look on with pride, others, with sorrow for my part in them.

16. I suffer from "White Knight Syndrome"; I'm always looking to rescue the damsel in distress. This has caused more pain and heartache in my life than anything else combined, and I'm trying really hard to overcome it.

It's not that I haven't been writing...

...its just that it all sucked, and I wasn't happy with it. I realized I was writing, again, for the blog and not for me, so I stopped. I'm better now. More writing will come, but it will be when I choose and what I choose. I am gonna learn one of these days, I swear it!