I never understood the appeal of, or massive acclaim behind, “Watchmen.” There’s been no shortage of praise for the Alan Moore-scripted 12-issue comic book epic: “Visionary!” “The definitive example of the comic book medium!” “A graphic novel that holds its own against ‘traditional’ literature!”
Sure, “Watchmen” is…good. Its also kinda dull. Lots convoluted. And something I never imagined being made into a major motion picture. The material is just too dense and too limited in its appeal. Most moviegoers–most of America, for that matter–don’t know the difference between Alan Moore and Roger Moore. So what would compel them to see this comic book dork’s wet dream? Only one thing I can imagine–the fact that there are no other legit options for action, fantasy, and adventure fans at the multiplex this weekend.
I loaned my trade paperback collection of “Watchmen” to my friend Ben a while back. I can’t remember if he ever gave it back, and if he hasn’t, I’m not terribly concerned. I don’t see myself needing to read it again.
Credit to Ben for returning the comic loan favor by introducing me to “The Boys,” a shocking, offensive, pantspissingly funny deconstruction of the superhero medium. Maybe “The Boys” in some way owes a creative debt to “Watchmen.” Maybe that’s fair to say of a lot of today’s comics. Whatever the impact of “Watchmen” has been, I can’t imagine it being significant enough to translate to those who are going to pay their hard-earned $9 to see it this weekend.
Who watches the Watchmen? Not me. Duh.