1. The violence is too much. It's over the top, it's grim and gritty, it's the too-cool and too-desensitized thing that Watchmen(the comic) more or less created and that Alan Moore has regretted for twenty-five years. V For Vendetta(the movie) had exactly the same problem - the message of the story was buried beneath a layer of Awesome Badass. Violence that existed in the comic, and which the nature of comics allows the reader to dwell on exactly as long as he or she wishes, is made so gory and brutal that it must become a spectacle. The sadly formulaic superhero fight scenes drag the film down, and the ultimate tragedy? This brand of action is not even that entertaining anymore, though at least Watchmen's cameramen have the decency not to throw their cameras down a flight of stairs and call the result a fight scene. The sound effects, each one lovingly crafted to make each punch sound like a steamroller flattening a horse, are terribly distracting. Is that guy dead? Oh, no, he's fine. Wait, what about that time? It sounded like his entire skeleton was shattered into a million pieces. Nope, he's getting up again. Huh, I thought these guys didn't have super powers.
2. Otherwise, the movie was amazingly well realized. Doctor Manhattan alone was worth it. The crowd giggled at the big blue wang(not to mention the sex scenes) but I expect it was a horizon-broadening experience for them nonetheless. The movie did have a tendency to push the awesomeness of each moment so hard that at times it crossed into the numb emotional gray of a pop album where the volume is compressed like a TV commercial. It was tiresome, and as a fellow movie-goer put it, "difficult." But it's safe to say that pretty much anything that wasn't a fight scene was astonishingly good, and sometimes beautiful. When Matthew Goode delivered the famous climactic line, I was trembling with awe and excitement, and loving it. And if they didn't quite fit in all twelve cover images - the turning bottle of Nostalgia, ironically, was the most noticeable omission - Oh well. Close enough.
3. Alan Moore's name is not on the movie, and his fame spreads nonetheless. The man is officially the Philip K. Dick of our times; the culture has recognized his brain as a badly needed source of nourishment. I hope he has occasion, someday, to reflect on this, weigh the good and bad, and come out feeling positive about the experience. This is probably me being absurdly naive, so let me rephrase that: I hope the culture doesn't devour his brain too messily. We don't get brains like that every day. It takes a miracle.
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