Comic Book Adaptation: Watchmen

Watchmen is a twelve-part comic book series, written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Dave Gibbons, that tells the realistic story of a fractured band of superheroes in an alternate timeline to our own. What made the series so influential back in 1985 is Moore’s deconstruction and critique of the superhero genre itself, packed in with a plethora of expertly crafted political and philosophical messages and themes. Overnight, Moore and Gibbons changed the comic book landscape with their approach to scripts while also proving that the medium itself is one to be respected. So, in 2009 when the comics film adaptation hit big screens did it translate well? Well, yes and no. 

Movie Adaptation

Zack Snyder’s adaptation of Watchmen is, interestingly, faithful and unfaithful to the source material at the same time. Let’s start with the bad. Snyder, who is known for awesomely shot action films, was simply the wrong person to take the helm of this project as he seemed to completely miss the point of Moore’s original story. The comic book writer made it a point to criticize the genre’s approach to violence and to depict his characters as tragically disturbed people. Yet Snyder glorified the action and presented audience members with a cast of characters that were almost meant to be idolized, just like the rest of the figure heads of the superhero world. One of the main examples that comes to mind is how Roarshack (a mentally unhinged and right winged character in the comics) is depicted as this film’s voice of reason and the stand-in character for viewers. 

Misconstrued themes aside, the film also couldn’t effectively translate the sheer amount of detail sprinkled throughout Moore and Gibbon’s comic book. The vast majority of the page’s panels contain references to earlier plot points, effective imagery or clues for what’s to come. Not to mention the excerpts from other texts within the Watchmen world included at the end of each chapter, which only added to the story’s intriguing world building. 

Snyder, however, succeeds on a technical level with the majority of the film’s shots faithfully recreating the comic’s panels. For example, Roarshack’s introduction in both the film and the comic are strikingly similar, with the scenes following each other beat for beat. Snyder even makes use of the comic’s opening captions, translating them into voice over narration as Roarshack investigates the comedian’s apartment. But where these scenes majorly differ is in their colour, as Snyder utilizes a grey, moody palette as opposed to Gibbon’s more dynamic one. While it helps establish the tone for the film’s opening, I believe this is another example of what is lost during the transition from comic to movie as Gibbon’s unique visual style just can’t be properly depicted on screen. 

That being said, the film’s opening fight scene expands on certain panels rather than just accurately recreating them. What was only seen in brief shots within the comic, the Comedian’s fight with his eventual murderer has an entire scene dedicated to it that – while entertainingly choreographed – further solidifies Snyder’s departure from the source material’s original ideas. As a result it also forgoes an interaction seen in the comic between two detectives that not only sets up the story’s initial mystery but also displays Moore’s use of dark humour. Snyder instead relies on the fight itself as well as lines from the Comedian such as: “It was only a matter of time,”  to maintain the audience’s intrigue and build that aforementioned sense of mystery.

Despite the overarching issues with the adaptation, I still appreciate and enjoy Snyder’s use of music in this film. During its title sequence, viewers witness a montage of events that have occurred in this alternate timeline accompanied by Bob Dylan’s, “The Times They Are a-Changin.” The lyrics not only signify the passage of time but also that by watching the film you are entering a completely different world than ours. The montage itself also provides certain bits of contextual information that otherwise might not have been explored in the film, since in the comic they are fed to readers over the course of various chapters. The film’s gritty tone is also clearly outlined here, as these ‘superheroes’ who are intended to uphold virtues and exemplary behaviour are seen dead in bloody crime scenes or being dragged off to mental institutions. 

While Watchmen (2009) may be considered a disservice to the intent of the original comic’s author, it is ultimately a piece of media that is more interested in succeeding in different ideas. Snyder’s scenes are beautifully shot and wildly entertaining thanks to his use of music, special effects and excellent fighting choreography. The director has also stated in interviews that his version of Watchmen is intended to be a satire of pop culture and superhero movies of the time, rather than comic books themselves. 

With their comic, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons were saying, ”Superheroes are kinda funky, aren’t they?” We build upon that with a movie that acknowledges that superhero movies have affected pop culture.

Zack Snyder, during an interview with ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

It provides additional context as to why Watchmen (2009) is so violent – besides that being Snyder’s usual approach to the medium – exposing the brutality of these character’s actions where other superhero flicks would sweep it under the rug. While an interesting idea in itself, I argue that it could have been achieved without the use of the Watchmen name and instead explored as its own self contained story. 

The Raven: Summary and Analysis

Summary

The Raven, by Edgar Allan Poe, is a poem about a widowed man reading alone one night when he is suddenly visited by a raven that can only say: “Nevermore.” What ensues is a tragic descent into madness as the speaker desperately grasps at what little hope he can by asking the bird about his future and his wife, with each inquiry being shot down by that simple phrase: “Nevermore.” Enraged by the Raven’s answers, the speaker attempts to make it return to the “nightly shores” but quickly realises that it’s there to stay and thus succumbs to his grief; his soul now cast in shadow “Shall be lifted – nevermore!”

The Speaker’s Mental State and Relationship with the Raven

It is evident that the speaker is a deeply depressed individual struggling to work through the grief of losing his love (Lenore); who is first mentioned in the second stanza with the line: “From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore – for the rare and radiant maiden whom angels the angels name Lenore – nameless here for evermore.” Readers see that he is obsessed with the macabre and supernatural, making constant reference to it while also occasionally fixing his attention on the darkness of his home: “Deep into darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” He is also quick to cling onto any sort of distraction, evidently seen when the Raven first appears as he almost seems enchanted by its presence: “Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling.” This is not just because of his grief, but also because of his lack of company hinted at with “Other friends have flown before,” further emphasizing his loneliness and his despondent mood. 

As for the Raven itself, it’s clear that it is a metaphor for the speaker’s grief and an embodiment of the crushing hopelessness that he feels. When it first appears, the Raven seems regal but unnatural with constant reference being made to the Roman God, Pluto, and the “nightly shores of the underworld.” Despite the speaker’s apprehension towards the bird, he still seems to enjoy its presence and – as mentioned before – the distraction it provides. However, as it continues to reinforce answers to questions that the speaker already knew (that he won’t ever see his love again) with that simple phrase, “Nevermore,” the speaker becomes enraged and completely crumbles – dubbing it a “fiend”  and ordering it return to “The Night’s Plutonian Shore!” But the Raven is there to stay, seemingly becoming a part of the decor itself (“On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,”) to haunt the speaker forever – a tragic reflection of grief itself. 

I mentioned previously that the Raven gave the speaker answers that he already knew, this is because it is suggested throughout the poem that the bird is nothing but a manifestation of his mind. “Nevermore,” closely relates to the speaker’s dialogue from stanzas one to six, wherein he tries to dismiss the strange goings on in his house with lines such as: “‘Tis the wind and nothing more!” The speaker even acknowledges this himself later on in the poem when he comments on the Raven’s words, “What it utters is its only stock and store caught from some unhappy master.” Additionally, the speaker switches between various explanations concerning the Raven’s nature, referring to it as a “tempest” in one instance and then a messenger for ancient Gods in another. This added layer of unreliability only further hints at his unstable mental condition and that the bird is just a figment of his imagination. 

Confessionalism and Catharsis

Poe wrote The Raven while his wife was deathly ill, which provides a lot of context to the themes seen throughout. The suffocating sense of hopelessness enshrouding the poem was perhaps a representation of the feelings Poe felt while grappling with the reality of losing his wife. The speaker’s descent into madness could also be Poe expressing his own harrowing journey and the addled state the tragic event left his mind in. The deep depression and loneliness the speaker suffers throughout was likely a reflection of his own, sadly insinuating that there was no one else there to help him and his wife get through such a horrible experience. The choice of using a raven to represent the speaker’s (and Poe’s) grief is also significant, as they are commonly considered as ill omens; inferring that Poe had little hope from the start that his wife would recover from her illness. 

Romanticism

Romanticism is a literary movement that surfaced in the 18th century, rejecting the principles of rationality and the reasoned approach towards the world to instead focus emotion and the individual. It created art that embraced imagination and wasn’t afraid to express the irrational feelings that are a part of the human experience. 

Poe’s confessional pieces are examples of this movement, as his stories used the supernatural as a tool to explore his emotions and his struggles. The Raven is no different, with its emphasis on love and grief being at the forefront of the poem. Readers truly grasp the level of torment he endured and begin to feel the pain in his words. Poe also shows his dedication to his wife and clearly depicts the utter sense of loss he would be left with without her, emphasising the confessional nature of the poem and making it that much more personal. 

The fact that Poe so willingly opens his heart to his readers also allows them to relate to the writer and his experiences. People may have suffered similar tragedies and reading a piece like The Raven can potentially provide the same amount of catharsis that writing it did; ultimately creating a deeper connection between the artist and audience members.