Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Redrafting the Jazz: 1999


I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 30, 1999 – MCI Center, Washington, D.C.

Previous season:

The NBA lockout of 1998 played major havoc on the league and the Jazz. The season didn't begin until February, and then it was a super-condensed 50-game slog that not only featured many back-to-back games, but some dreaded back-to-back-to-back games. Despite that, Utah still managed to win 37 games, tying San Antonio for most in the league. Karl Malone won his second (and final) MVP and John Stockton even snuck onto the All-NBA Third Team (the last time he earned All-NBA honors in his career). However, I have to believe the grueling schedule played its toll on Utah's aging roster, culminating in a rather surprising second-round defeat to Portland.

The draft:

In his last draft as Jazz general manager, Scott Layden found himself with three first-round picks and a pressing need to shore up Utah's bench. Thanks to a 1998 trade involving Nazr Mohammed, the Jazz had Philadelphia's No. 19 pick, which Utah used on Minnesota swingman Quincy Lewis.

A 1996 trade that sent Felton Spencer to Orlando gave Utah the 24th pick. Knowing he still had one more first-rounder after this (plus a second-round pick), Layden decided to take a risk on an 18-year-old project from Russia named Andrei Kirilenko.

Utah's own pick wound up being No. 28, and the Jazz used it on Kentucky forward Scott Padgett.

With the No. 58 pick (the last of the draft), Utah took a guard from Virginia Tech named Eddie Lucas.

Analysis:

Lewis never really caught on with the NBA. He played out his three-year rookie contract with the Jazz, never rising above the level of mediocrity (and bizarrely seeing his 3-point percentage slip from 36% to 17%). He went to Israel for a year, then tried a comeback with Minnesota, but that only lasted 14 games. He seems a nice enough guy — for whatever reason, Utah hired him in 2022 as Director of Alumni Relations (whatever that means). But back in 1999, the Jazz could have had a much better player. My recommendation isn't exactly a sexy pick, but one I think would have helped Utah the most at the time. Big man Jeff Foster never put up big numbers, but he somehow earned a 13-year career with the Pacers thanks to his defense and rebounding, particularly on the offensive end. The Jazz really needed some front court support to make up for Greg Ostertag's inconsistencies.

Kirilenko didn't come to Utah until 2001, but he quickly proved to be one of the best draft picks in Jazz history. He became an All-Star and earned All-Defensive honors. His career sadly faltered when Carlos Boozer, Deron Williams and Mehmet Okur edged him out offensively, causing Kirilenko to suffer a mental breakdown. And his bloated contract ended up being a bit of an albatross around the franchise's neck in later years. However, I think the good Kirilenko brought to Utah far outweighs the bad and I can't really imagine the Jazz without him.

Padgett was a little bit better than Lewis — at least his 3-point shooting didn't take a drastic dip. He spent four years in Utah, then another four years between Houston, New Jersey and Memphis. Nevertheless, the Jazz have a far superior option at this position: Hall of Famer Manu Ginobili. The future All-Star and Sixth Man of the Year didn't join San Antonio until 2002, and I'm sure the Jazz would have been quite hesitant to use two first-round picks on foreigners who wouldn't join the NBA for several years. But Ginobili was more than worth the wait, and I would have been able to convince Utah's front office of this. The fans wouldn't have understood, but who cares?

Lucas never played in the NBA and only spent a couple of years overseas. Luckily, I have an excellent undrafted option available: Raja Bell. Bell would eventually play for the Jazz — in two separate stints. The second one ended in a bitter contract dispute, but the first stint was quite good and it proved the defensive-minded shooting guard could thrive under Jerry Sloan's system.

My advice:

1. Use the 19th pick on Jeff Foster.
2. Use the 24th pick on Andrei Kirilenko.
3. Use the 28th pick on Manu Ginobili.
4. Use the 58th pick on Raja Bell.

I just gave the Jazz two solid defenders — one for the front court, one for the back. And, more enticingly, I gave the team two incredible international players, who'd come over in two or three years. I don't think I did enough to push the decaying Stockton-Malone lineup back to the Finals, but I am hopeful about Utah's long-term future with these four players.

Thursday, February 22, 2024

Before Watchmen: The surprisingly strong start to the Silk Spectre story


One of the biggest arguments for Before Watchmen being a shameless cash grab is the sheer size of it. The original Watchmen was only 12 issues, but this project ended up being 37. More backstory on the Minutemen is understandable — welcome even. But all the main characters? Not so much. Alan Moore already gave us enough information about everyone. It was a very thorough, complete story. What could anyone have to add?

That was what I thought at first. (And I'll still reserve my judgment until I've read everything.) But then I remembered that Silk Spectre was the least developed main character of the original series — one of Moore's few failures. So it actually kind of makes sense that not only would Silk Spectre be the second series published in this project, but that Darwyn Cooke himself would be involved.


Cooke is joined by Amanda Conner here, with Paul Mounts on colors. The artwork is clean, but not quite my style. It just has a rather artificial feel to it. I also don't appreciate all the cartoony daydream sequences. The main cover doesn't do much for me, but Dave Johnson's variant is quite nice. Jim Lee's however, is a train wreck.


I was a bit worried when the story started with the snow globe scene. We've already seen that! But, Cooke and Conner provided a couple of more details here, most importantly the fact that Sally's husband has just left her, probably for good this time. We quickly cut to 1966, where Laurie is a star athlete in high school, but her social life is severely hampered by her mom's constant training sessions. Worse still, is how Laurie's reputation is tainted by her mother's previous sexual exploits. It seems like everyone in this school has access to the old pornographic magazines made about Sally.

Despite this, Laurie manages to grow close to a boy named Greg. It's perhaps this budding relationship that inspires Laurie to finally snap against her mother. After a particularly rough "training session," Laurie sneaks out at night to have cigarettes and beer with Greg, while they bond over their abusive parents. They go to a diner, where they unfortunately encounter some of the mean, popular girls of their class.

One of the mean girls crassly flicks whipped cream on Laurie's face to make her look more like Sally did in the pornos. Laurie attacks the girl, storms home, tells off her mom one more time, then runs away. She joins up with Greg, who's seeking to avoid being sent to Vietnam. The two teens have no plan and no money, but they are picked up by a couple of hippies in a van.

After the Minutemen issue mostly just rehashed things we already knew, I was craving something new. This story promises to do that, while working within the confines that all prequels have placed on them. It was fun getting to know Laurie a bit more, as well as explore life of a teenager in the 1960s. The more these stories can be original, the less they'll feel like a shameless cash grab.

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Redrafting the Jazz: 2000


I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 28, 2000 – Target Center, Minneapolis

Previous season:

The 1999-2000 season was Jeff Hornacek's last year. It was also the last year in Utah for Howard Eisley and Adam Keefe — two key role players during the Finals run years. John Stockton and Karl Malone were both on the All-Star team for the last time (Malone was named an All-Star two more times after this). And it was the last time they reached the second round of the playoffs, falling to Portland in five games. The Jazz had a rapidly aging roster, and a brand new general manager, Kevin O'Connor, who would primarily seek to bolster the team through complex trades involving three, four and even five teams.

The draft:

The 2000 NBA Draft is notoriously one of the weakest drafts in the modern day, mostly due to the lockout of 1999, which prompted many top recruits to either enter early or wait an extra year. Thanks to a 1996 trade sending Martin Muursepp to Miami, the Jazz controlled the 23rd pick. Not really liking anybody amongst the slim pickings, O'Connor decided to gamble on high schooler DeShawn Stevenson, one of many shooting guards at the time who was unfortunately dubbed as "the next Michael Jordan."

Utah's own first-round pick wound up being No. 26, but O'Connor saw no need in keeping two first-rounders in a historically bad draft. So five days before draft night, he sent this pick to Denver for a 2001 first-round pick. Two months later, O'Connor packaged that pick in the four-team trade that sent away Eisley and Keefe for Donyell Marshall. Anyway, the Nuggets used the 26th pick on Mamadou N'Diaye, but since this trade happened before draft night, I'm unable to warn against it or bless it.

The Jazz didn't have their own second-round pick, either, having sent it to Golden State in 1999 for Todd Fuller. The Warriors used the 55th pick on Chris Porter. But before they made that selection, the Jazz drafted Kaniel Dickens with the 50th pick. This pick originally belonged to New York, and I almost went mad trying to discover how and why Utah came in possession of it. The truth seems to be lost in the fuzzy waters of the early internet. I do have an educated guess, though. In 1999, Utah's general manager, Scott Layden, abruptly left the Jazz to work for the Knicks. Perhaps the NBA required New York surrender a second-round pick to Utah as compensation — there is precedence for this. But I have been unable to find any confirmation of my theory.

Analysis:

The Jazz readily admitted that Stevenson was a huge gamble. True, he was athletic enough to participate in the dunk contest, but he never was particularly productive in Utah. Oh, and in 2001 he gave alcohol to a 14-year-old girl and had sex with her. But ... no one cared. The NBA suspended him three games and no one ever talked about it ever again. He ended up playing three more years in Utah after that heinous act. He was traded for Gordan Giricek in 2004 and eventually transformed his game, becoming a lockdown defender that started on the 2011 Dallas championship team.

Anyway, Utah deserves a better draft pick here. And there's only one choice: Michael Redd. To show you just how weak this draft was, Redd was the only player taken in 2000 to earn All-NBA honors. His career was cut short by knee injuries, but at his prime, he was a great shooter that would have been a wonderful replacement for Hornacek.

Kaniel Dickens, a forward from Idaho, never played a game for the Jazz. He bounced around endlessly between minor leagues and overseas, ultimately appearing in 19 games for three different teams. A better pick would be Villanova forward Malik Allen, who spent a solid decade in the league. A quiet, but productive decade.

My advice:

1. Use the 23rd pick on Michael Redd.
2. Use the 50th pick on Malik Allen.

Well, I just spared the Jazz from all the drama and headache of Stevenson, replacing him with a very solid, high-scoring shooting guard. Oh, and did I mention that Redd was a devout Christian, who used his first big contract extension to build a church? That's the type of player Utah needed.

Friday, February 16, 2024

Before Watchmen: Let the shameless cash grab begin!


Back in the Watchmen's heyday of the '80s, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons tossed around the idea of a 12-issue Minutemen limited series. That idea never panned out and DC was unable to create any major adaptations or additions to Watchmen until Zack Snyder's film in 2009. The movie didn't earn much (if any) money, but it did create a massive demand for the source material. Sensing a potential fortune to be made, DC reportedly reached out to Moore in 2010, offering to finally restore to him the rights of Watchmen in exchange for prequel and sequel stories. Moore refused, saying the offer came 10 years too late. Undaunted, DC proceeded with plans for a prequel of their own.

Before Watchmen ended up being a 37-issue project involving more than a dozen different writers and artists. Surprisingly, Gibbons was nowhere to be found — not even drawing variant covers or anything like that. I find that odd, seeing as how he helped out so much with Snyder's film. But by the time this comic series went into development, Gibbons apparently took the attitude that the original 12-issue miniseries was the complete story and neither he, nor Moore, had anything to add. Moore took a much more aggressive stance against Before Watchmen, calling it "shameless" and saying he wished it wouldn't happen. He did make a fair point, I believe, in pointing out DC's hypocrisy with its treatment of Watchmen. It was celebrated because it wasn't like anything else. But with projects like this, which treated Watchmen just like every other DC property, the mystique of the story begins to wear off.

I agree with Moore on this, but only to a point. Watchmen isn't a perfect story. And I don't think it behooves us to treat it as a sacred text like the Bible or Quran. Yeah, it's a shame that DC never returned the rights of the characters to Moore and Gibbons, but at the end of the day, a contract was signed and the company can do what it wants with its property. You could argue that Watchmen never would have become the sensation it is without the involvement of DC's editorial and marketing departments. Still, though, should DC have made this series? Probably not. But they did make them, so I'm going to read them to see if they're any good.


Kicking off this ambitious, controversial project in 2012 was Minutemen, written and drawn by Darwyn Cooke. This was a smart choice for two reasons. One, the Minutemen had by far the most potential for a compelling prequel. And two, Cooke was probably the only creator capable of tackling this job. His New Frontier is still the most beautiful, poignant love letter to DC's Silver Age. And his art style carries a certain amount of folksy charm that lends itself perfectly to stories about the '40s and '50s — especially when combined with the rich, vibrant colors of Phil Noto. 

No one's going to mistake this for a work of Moore and Gibbons, which is probably a good thing. The point of this series is to add to the Watchmen story, not retell it. But one of the biggest problems with making a prequel in the same medium several decades later is the change in styles can be a bit jarring. Like going from the puppets of Return of the Jedi to the cgi creatures of the Phantom Menace, Before Watchmen is full of many similar changes. Gone are the nine-panel grids and the supplemental material of mostly pure text. And in comes one of the tropes of the age, variant covers.


The Michael Golden cover is quite underwhelming — all the characters look a bit off model. The Jim Lee cover is ... fine, I guess. It's an intimidating portrait of Hooded Justice, but he only plays a small role in this first issue. The main cover by Cooke is by far the best, focusing on this issue's real main character: the original Nite Owl, Hollis Mason. The beautiful sepia tones perfectly summon up the feelings of nostalgia for the 1940s. I was, admittedly, a bit disappointed to see Cooke's cover was not also the first panel of the story — as Gibbons faithfully accomplished on each of the 12 issues of Watchmen — but I have to remind myself that this is not meant to be a re-creation of the work by Moore and Gibbons. This is just telling new stories with the same characters. But what I'm most interested in is how well Cooke's interpretation follows what I perceive to be Moore's original intention — namely that none of the characters in this story are supposed to be likable.

Before Watchmen: Minutemen #1 opens with some especially saccharine dialogue, before quickly revealing it's Hollis Mason working on his controversial tell-all book, Under the Hood. Luckily, Hollis has the grace to admit that this style of prose is terrible. His book agent calls to schedule a meeting, revealing that he isn't fond of the latest draft, either. The rest of the issue is Hollis recounting the early days of the Minutemen, going through each character, one by one. This is presumably part of Hollis' draft, which doesn't contradict what we read in the original series, and adds a few nice details. What I appreciate most of all is how Hollis begins this nostalgic journey by openly admitting that he is seeing only what he wants to see.

The first hero is the Hooded Justice. Cooke and Noto do a fantastic job of conveying the terror and ferocity of this massive black figure in a flowing red cape. Hooded Justice throws a man through a window and onto a police car several stories below. The officer closest to the victim retired a few days later. But Hollis became inspired by this display of horrifying brutality.

Up next is the first Silk Spectre, Sally Jupiter. Hollis coldly describes her as presenting "unbridled capitalism," as he explains how she and her agent would pay men to pose as criminals, tip off reporters to be in the right place and the right time, and then bribe the police to look the other way. This was truly a stroke of brilliance on Cooke's part.

The third hero is Nite Owl. Hollis recounts a heroic effort of stopping some shooters engaged in a high speed chase on a snowy night near Christmas. Hollis did rescue a couple of innocent bystanders, but he admits he mainly was just chasing thrills.

Hollis describes the young Comedian as more of a thug than a hero, as we see him beat up all the occupants of a bar then rob the cash register on his way out. Hollis details Mothman's addiction to alcohol and drugs in a half-hearted attempt to describe him as a brave man before he "cracked up." And the Dollar Bill was quickly portrayed merely as a living, breathing commercial.

Silhouette gets a surprisingly heroic treatment, shown saving a small boy from traffickers connected to a child pornography ring. Hollis says that of all the Minutemen, she was the "most sincerely committed to doing something meaningful." I see this as Cooke's biggest revision so far. Moore never intended much for Silhouette beyond a demonstration that most of the people who would be attracted to the lifestyle of a costumed vigilante would be sexual deviants of some sort. Silhouette was merely a lesbian, killed after being outed. But this story was not written in the '80s. By 2012, Silhouette's brief story has much more tragic connotations and her death feels much more undeserved. So, by way of compensation it seems, Cooke has retroactively made her the most noble of the original superheroes. I'm not sure if I agree with this, but I'll wait and see what else Cooke has in store for her.

The story ends with Captain Metropolis, the wealthy military consultant who purchased an abandoned riverside factory to use as his base of operations. While taking a luxurious bath, the Captain dictates a letter to Sally's agent, taking the first step to forming the Minutemen.

Well, I don't know if I'd call this story "shameless," per se, but I am a little bit underwhelmed so far. It was nicely done, but not nearly original enough to justify this whole project, in my opinion. Perhaps Cooke was primarily concerned with building readers' trust at the start before trying anything too ambitious, and I respect that.

The backup story, however, is exactly what I'd call a shameless cash grab. It's two pages of a random pirate tale called The Curse of the Crimson Corsair by Len Wein and John Higgins. It looks well-made and promises to be creepy, but it really serves no purpose here other than to remind readers that there was a pirate comic in Watchmen. But that pirate comic was integrated into the story, often used as commentary of the events happening around it, and serving as a broader metaphor for Watchmen as a whole. Plus, Moore was fascinated with the history of comic books within his own fictional world of real-life superheroes. The Black Freighter reflected this and was presented in the same way an old EC comic would have been. The Crimson Corsair doesn't seem to serve any of those purposes so far. All it's doing right now is telling me to read the first issue of the Silk Spectre miniseries next, instead of just sticking with Minutemen.

And that's just what I'll do. I want to read all these comics in the order they came out, so my next entry in this series will be Before Watchmen: Silk Spectre #1.

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Redrafting the Jazz: 2001


I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 27, 2001 – Madison Square Garden, New York City

Previous season:

The 2000-01 season was the beginning of the end for the Stockton-Malone dynasty. After earning a 53-29 record, the Jazz were stunned by the Dallas Mavericks in the first round, losing the decisive Game 5 by one point. It was the first time Utah had failed to advance past the first round since 1995. What surprises me most about this team was how incredibly old it was. The Jazz had four players above the age of 35 averaging at least 20 minutes per game — Karl Malone, John Stockton, John Starks and Olden Polynice. This certainly helped explain the team's fast start to the season (and even the first two games of the playoffs) before ending in a whimper. But I'm not too critical of Utah's lack of focus on the future. It's hard to realize you're in the end of something when you're in the middle of it.

The draft:

Despite that lackluster ending to the season — and a rapidly aging roster — general manager Kevin O'Connor didn't see much need for an immediate influx of youth. With the 24th pick, he chose Spanish point guard Raul Lopez, who was widely touted as "the next John Stockton," but was still under contract with Real Madrid. 

With the 53rd pick, the Jazz drafted Stanford big man Jarron Collins.

Analysis:

Many Jazz fans booed the Lopez pick because he was drafted ahead of Jamaal Tinsley and Tony Parker. Furthermore, the prospect of waiting a couple of years for Lopez's contract to expire was not enticing. Turns out, the bigger concern was injuries. 

Shortly after being drafted by Utah, Lopez hurt his knee and only played in 14 games in the 2001-02 season for Real Madrid. This may have helped him negotiate a lower buyout with the Spanish club, but shortly after that — and before he officially signed with the Jazz — he tore his ACL. Utah signed him anyway, and he spent the entire 2002-03 season on the bench. In 2003-04, he was finally healthy and managed to play all 82 games of his long-awaited NBA rookie season. 

Lopez did show promise when he was on the court, but in the 2004-05 season, he suffered yet another major knee injury. After playing just 31 more games, he was sent to Memphis as part of a four-team mega trade. The Grizzlies cut him and the NBA career of "the next John Stockton" came to a disappointing end. This was one of the times when the fans were right. The Jazz should have drafted Tony Parker instead. Do I need to explain why?

Collins had a much less dramatic NBA career. He just came in, and did his job efficiently and smartly. Never putting up big numbers, but always helping the team with the little intangibles like setting good screens and playing solid defense. He spent eight solid years in Utah, seeing a dip in minutes after the additions of Mehmet Okur and Paul Millsap, but still contributing in his own quiet way. I was briefly tempted to replace Collins with Andres Nocioni, but I think Collins was exactly the kind of player the Jazz needed at the time. I'm a firm believer in chemistry and attitude, and Collins was the perfect fit in that regard.

My advice:

1. Use the 24th pick on Tony Parker.
2. Use the 53rd pick on Jarron Collins.

Would Tony Parker have been a Final MVP and Hall of Fame inductee had he been drafted by the Jazz? I don't know. But I do firmly believe he would have been a major upgrade over the injury-plagued Raul Lopez.

Friday, February 2, 2024

How Zack Snyder ruined Watchmen


So here it is. I have finally come to the largest (and perhaps most controversial) adaptation of Watchmen. After nearly two decades of failed attempts, the Watchmen movie finally was made with a screenplay by David Hayter and Alex Tse. Zack Snyder was chosen as the director and initially given a budget of $100 million (which swelled to $150 million). Two soundtracks were released for the movie (one was the background score, the other was all the songs used throughout). And a couple of poorly received video games were hastily thrown together. There was also a 38-minute mock documentary called Under the Hood and a 26-minute animated adaptation of the Black Freighter comic. Also, as is usually the case with Zack Snyder projects, there is a lengthier director's cut of this film available for the true fans. 

I have seen all the supplemental material, but I won't be reviewing any of it individually like I've been doing with everything else. And that's just because I don't have anything to say about it that I wouldn't already be saying with a review of the film that is currently available on HBO Max, which I believe is the same version that premiered in London on February 23, 2009. So anyway, without any further preamble, I'm going to hit play and jot down my thoughts as I go.



Zack Snyder was very much a literalist in adapting this story — even going as far as using the comic book panels as his storyboard. Knowing this, I'm absolutely shocked that Snyder did not open on the iconic image that was the cover and first panel of issue #1. Instead of the yellow smiley face resting in a pool of blood, the button is neatly pinned to the robe of the Comedian (played by Jeffrey Dean Morgan). He's watching a news program with a laughably bad-looking Richard Nixon (played by Robert Wisden). This lengthy scene is chockfull of expositional hand-holding, literally bringing out a group of stern-looking scientists to somberly move the minute hand of the Doomsday Clock closer to midnight. The panelists even discuss Dr. Manhattan before Eddie Blake finally changes the channel.

This is bad storytelling. In one of the rare instances where Snyder strays from the comic, he destroys the mysterious and haunting opening Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons gave us. Instead of letting the background reveal itself naturally, Snyder begins essentially with a large neon sign screaming, "COLD WAR! COLD WAR!" He also robs the audience of some of the mystery around the Comedian's identity, as we get a clear view of his scarred face, hulking frame, collection of massive guns on the wall and a provocative portrait of the Silk Spectre. I'm not saying Snyder needed to slavishly re-create every single panel of the comic and never stray from it, but I would have preferred a less dumbed-down opening. To perfectly sum up my thoughts on Snyder, I echo the first words we hear (from the talk show host): "Wrong as usual!"


A commercial for Nostalgia comes on, playing Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable." A bit on-the-nose for the commercial (which makes perfect sense), and a trifle cliché for the upcoming murder scene. Once again removing much of the mystery, Snyder shows a single figure kick down Blake's door and begin a very lengthy and gratuitous fight scene. The figure's face is mostly obscured, but you can see just enough to tell it's Adrian Veidt (played by Matthew Goode). I don't know if anyone who hadn't read the comic would be able to tell from this quick scene, but I'm still surprised at how casual Snyder was with the story's central mystery.

But mostly I want to complain about this fight scene. It is absolutely preposterous and lasts forever. Blake reveals he was expecting this and has a gun ready on his coffee table. Naturally, he can't hit the elusive Veidt with his gun or his fists (which are inexplicably powerful enough to punch through his brick wall) or his kitchen knives (one of which Veidt catches by the handle). At one point, Veidt breaks Blake's wrist and pauses the pummeling just long enough to let him weepingly laugh, "It's all a joke" as a single drop of blood stains his smiley face button. Veidt then throws Blake onto the marble countertop with enough force to shatter it before finally — finally! — tossing him out the window. In excruciating slow motion.

We're barely five minutes into this movie and I can already tell that Snyder does not understand the source material at all. He's like a little boy with his action figures, drawing out the fight scenes as long as possible because violence is cool. But Watchmen isn't a story that celebrates violence — it abhors it. Moore set out to show why we shouldn't want superheroes in the real world. He made them frighteningly violent, unstable maniacs, each more unlikable than the last. But in this opening fight scene, Snyder reveals he either doesn't understand this point or simply disagrees with it. Aside from needlessly glorifying the violence, he also tried to make the Comedian as likable as possible and frame him as the undeserved victim here. Moore's story is much more nuanced than that, and I refuse to blame the run time for Snyder's inability to capture that nuance. The cut of this film is 2 hours, 36 minutes. That's plenty of time for some sophisticated storytelling worthy of Watchmen.


The opening credit montage was probably Snyder's best work in this movie. Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin" may be a bit of an obvious choice, but it really was the only choice. The song was a part of the comic and it perfectly represents this brisk run through a fictional history. Snyder's love for slow motion and over-the-top staging works perfectly here (although I do feel the reenactment of the Last Supper was a bit much). I was surprised, yet appreciative of the Silhouette's overt lesbianism. And Dr. Manhattan photo-bombing the moon landing made me chuckle. (I've always said he has a subtle sense of humor!) The Comedian assassinating Kennedy was a bit of a shock, as the comic never really implied he was responsible for it. I also didn't appreciate showing Ozymandias at a gay bar, since the only hint the comic gave of his homosexuality came from the homophobic Rorschach, who thought he might be gay mainly because he was liberal. 

All in all, it was a great montage. And I suppose now is as good a time as any to complain about the costumes. Snyder openly admitted to changing the costumes, simply because he wanted them to look cooler. But the dorkiness of them is one of my favorite details from the comics. Moore and Gibbons gave us morons wearing sweats and capes, who looked absolutely ridiculous while beating up people on the streets. Snyder gave us improbably dressed heroes who would fit in seamlessly into the world of Batman Forever and Batman & Robin. I would say that only Rorschach and Dr. Manhattan are "comics accurate."


The film finally begins for real with Rorschach walking through the blood as the camera zooms up to an impossibly high window. Remember: Rorschach's grappling gun is supposed to be able to reach that window from the ground. Anyway, we get a very quick scene of the detectives examining Blake's apartment, which is completely pointless, since we already know that Blake was "built like a linebacker," was thrown out the window and wasn't the victim of a random burglary. Moore gave us the detectives in the comic because he didn't show us Blake's murder. Snyder seems to only be including them because they were in the comic.


We quickly get a proper introduction to Rorschach (played by Jackie Earle Haley). He is great. The costume looks perfect. The shifting mask is neat. And the voice is exactly what you'd expect. You can tell Snyder loved Rorschach (perhaps a bit too much, but I'll get into that later). The only problem I have with this scene is the incredibly quiet grappling gun. Major nitpick, I know. But the comic makes a big deal of how lethal it is when used at point-blank range. In my mind, it should be considerably louder when fired (especially when it has to go up 10,000 feet).


The scene with Hollis Mason and Dan Dreiberg (played by Patrick Wilson) is ... fine. Their conversation is heavy on exposition, but that's kind of a necessary evil. A lot of what Hollis says is stuff that Dan already knows, but the film plays it off as drunken ramblings of an elderly man. A man who apparently didn't sell many copies of his book, as there's quite a large pile of them cluttering his counter. Anyway, Dan looks plenty nerdy, but not as old and out-of-shape as I would've liked. Wilson needed to be at least 30 pounds heavier for this role (or at least wear a fat suit).


After Rorschach warns Dan about a potential "mask killer," we get our first major departure from the comic. Instead of Rorschach warning Adrian, it's now Dan who decided to warn him (despite believing Rorschach was being paranoid). Dan crashes a media interview, where Adrian explains he is selling Watchmen merchandise to fund his research with Dr. Manhattan for a renewable source of clean energy. Apparently this "energy crises" bit was thrown in as an attempt to make this story more current, but it doesn't really fit with this world. Plus, it's one more needless distraction in a story about the threat of nuclear armageddon, a murder mystery, and a rather large cast of characters to develop.

The Dan/Adrian meeting does remind us of the threat of nuclear war, as well as addresses one of the plot holes in Moore's original tale, which is why can't Dr. Manhattan just stop all the nukes. This movie (through Adrian) offers the same flimsy excuse found in the supplemental material of the comic; i.e., Russia simply has too many nukes for even Dr. Manhattan to stop all at once. It would have made a lot more sense if someone just said that Dr. Manhattan's powers fluctuated erratically in the presence of intense radiation. Oh well.

What we lost from Rorschach visiting Adrian was the sense that he was the only one who believed in his conspiracy theory. We also missed the pretty funny moment where Rorschach inadvertently called himself a fascist. Of course, I doubt whether that bit would have played out as well as it could have with this version of Adrian. I don't know if Goode was just the wrong choice for the role, or if Snyder gave him poor direction, but I'm pretty disappointed in this performance. He's too reserved and quiet, which doesn't quite fit the role of a major company's CEO. That reserved attitude (with a slight British accent) only seems to reveal him as a villain. The comic book Adrian loved to hear himself talk. This version appears to be carefully holding back his thoughts, worried that his master plan might slip through. And, just like Dan, he doesn't look old enough.


Rorschach's meeting with Dr. Manhattan (played by Billy Crudup) also deviates from the comic, but not as much. Instead of just warning Dr. Manhattan and Laurie (played by Malin Åkerman) that Blake died, and briefly discussing how Blake attempted to rape Laurie's mom, Rorschach actually wanted to ask Dr. Manhattan to look into the future to find out if Blake's murderer was ever publicly identified. This is actually a brilliant request, but one that seems far too smart for the Rorschach from the comics to consider.

Instead of merely being indifferent by Blake's death, Dr. Manhattan reveals that he can't see the future anymore, most likely caused by an imminent nuclear war. After he sends Rorschach away, Dr. Manhattan drops another useless line about the energy crisis and demonstrates a new, odd power of forcing Laurie to relive her darkest memories. This robs Laurie of what little agency she had in the comic and makes her an emotionless passive observer in this scene. Paradoxically, Dr. Manhattan actually showed the most emotion here, but only because Snyder cut Rorschach's fight with Laurie. Crudup plays Dr. Manhattan perfectly — soft-spoken and slightly confused. Wanting to help and connect, but not sure how. He also looks amazing, aside from the extra large black paint splotches around his eyes.


Nena's "99 Luftballons" plays as Laurie heads to dinner with Dan, which creates an odd shift in emotion. Or rather, an odd way to try to inject some emotion into this movie after that extra stoic scene. In my mind, I'm remembering a shaken Laurie from the comics reaching out to Dan to calm down and reconnect with humanity. But in the movie, Laurie only seems to go out with Dan because she's bored and Dr. Manhattan told her she would. So the Red Balloon song felt a little out of place here. But today, I just learned that the song is about a military general inadvertently causing a war because he thought a bunch of balloons were a UFO. I never realized this because the lyrics are in German, and I've have to assume that many people who watched this film were in the same boat. So on one hand, this is the perfect song to play right after discussing nuclear armageddon. But on the other hand, I doubt many people realize that.

Åkerman is perfectly serviceable as Laurie, although she doesn't get too much to do. Part of this is Moore's fault, but most of it is Snyder's, who chose to cut some of her most emotional scenes. And just like Dan and Adrian, I think Laurie looks too young. I also noticed she doesn't smoke in this movie. At all. And I have to chalk that up to yet another example of trying to whitewash these characters and make them more likable.


Simon and Garfunkel's "Sound of Silence" plays at Blake's funeral, and my eyes roll in my head so hard it hurts. Look, I love this song as much as the next guy. But to use it in a funeral? Come on! Anyway, the song is abruptly cut off by Laurie puking in her mom's bathroom — an attempt at humor, I guess? I'll admit we really do need something to break up this heavy material.

We're introduced to Sally, who was played by a younger actress wearing prosthetics. They weren't particularly good prosthetics, as this Sally doesn't look anywhere near her appropriate age. But a big part of that is the costume design, as well. In the comics, Sally let her hair go white and spent all day in a pink bathrobe. This Sally has carefully done up her hair, put on makeup, and dressed up real nice for an afternoon of drinking and looking at pornography.

Sally's flashback is rough and unsettling. But necessarily so. Fortunately, Snyder didn't go overboard with it — a rare instance where he showed restraint, and I'm grateful for that.


But Snyder's restraint quickly goes away for Dr. Manhattan's flashback, which opens with Richard Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries." This classic opera has been overused to the point of becoming ridiculous — even back in the 1980s when Moore first wrote this story. He used the song as a twisted, comedic juxtaposition to Hollis' old boss learning his wife had left him. Hollis' boss later committed suicide because of this, causing Hollis to forever feel sad whenever he heard that triumphant march. In this movie, Snyder only seems to be using it because it was also used in one of the most famous movies about the Vietnam War, Apocalypse Now. I did not care for this "dumbing down" reference, nor did I appreciate how Dr. Manhattan was slowly exploding the Viet Cong soldiers one by one. You don't actually see him do that in the comic, so I view this as Snyder needlessly inserting more violence into the film.


Adrian's flashback is slightly changed, in that it was he, not Captain Metropolis, who tried to unite the group known as the Watchmen. This does help streamline things, but it also makes Ozymandias look a little bit weaker and less prepared than he really is. I think if he had been running that meeting, he wouldn't have set up a cheesy little paper map with labels and pushpins. I also think he wouldn't have invited the Comedian at all.


Dan's flashback was quite faithful to the comic, and I wouldn't have any complaints about it were it not for the use of "I'm Your Boogie Man" by KC and the Sunshine Band. Unlike "99 Luftballons," there is no deeper meaning to this song — it's simply about a radio DJ who plays fun, danceable music. Using it during a big riot is an odd choice ... unless it's like how Snyder used "Unforgettable" during the murder scene. Just because you're doing the opposite of what the audience expects, does not mean you're being deep.


I don't have any complaints with the Moloch scene. The flashback to Blake's murder during Rorschach's monologue was fairly cheesy, but I'm kind of used to it by now. By the time Laurie shows up at Dan's apartment, the stiffness of these characters has become rather obnoxious. This is what comes from using comic book panels as your storyboard. And when you insist on using as many lines from the book as possible, you end up with some rather clunky dialogue — especially when the lines are used at different points in the story. Over and over again, it is apparent that Snyder is not thinking hard enough about why a certain scene or line needs to be in the movie. He's just obsessively cramming in everything he can.

Anyway, Laurie shows up at Dan's door and once again, Åkerman is portraying no emotion. I'm beginning to wonder how much of it is her fault and not just Snyder's. In the comic, Laurie makes it clear that she's in a bad mood and intentionally chooses to walk down an alley inhabited by gang members so she can have an excuse to beat someone up. This movie omits that detail, presenting Dan and Laurie as innocent passersby ... who defended themselves in the most over-the-top way possible. Snyder relishes in the gore, delightfully showing bones bursting through skin. Just like with Blake's murder, he endows his heroes with near-superhuman strength, having Laurie kick a man so hard, he goes flying like a sack of potatoes into a dumpster. And then she straight-up kills a man by viciously stabbing him in the neck and putting him in the path of gunfire, where he's shot several times in the back.

When I read the comic, this scene made me see how unhinged and dangerously violent these so-called heroes were — and these were supposed to be the most normal ones! But I don't get that sense at all with this movie. It really feels like Snyder is just showing off how strong these "heroes" are.


Dr. Manhattan's press conference would have been just fine if it hadn't paraded out Janey Slater as if she were on a Jerry Springer show and dramatically ripping off her wig. But it was genuinely unnerving when Dr. Manhattan lost control, and it's a lot cleaner to have him teleport directly to Mars. His out-of-order flashback of his life was practically perfect, too. Snyder works best in montages and brief snippets.


After that well-done scene, we're treated once again with the unbearably bad Nixon impression on the set of Dr. Strangelove. At least the Henry Kissinger impersonator (Frank Novak) was good.


The attempted assassination of Adrian was unfortunately preceded by a tedious moment of him strong-arming several fossil fuel executives and needlessly rambling on about his backstory. This could have been an opportune moment to actually make Adrian look good and heroic, but Goode plays it so coldly and with so much anger, that he's basically shouting to the audience that he's the bad guy.


It's at this point that Snyder's bleak color palette has become too much for me. For most of the movie, it's understandable, given that everything's taking place at night and in the rain. But some moments just need to be colorful. Like the bright, red neon sign in front of Moloch's apartment. In the comic, that thing obnoxiously turned every other panel red. But here, Snyder dulled it down to a mild yellow that makes no impact on the surrounding environment. This leaves everything bland and boring.

Anyway, the necessity of expediency unfortunately (once again) made Rorschach look smarter than he is in the comic. Instead of wasting an entire day watching a garbage can for a note from Moloch, this Rorschach investigated the apartment of Adrian's would-be assassin (off screen) and learned he worked for the same company Moloch did. This makes Adrian's trap a little more implausible — he now would have had to count on Rorschach actually being a good detective, and accurately deduce where and when Rorschach's investigation would take him.

The arrest scene wasn't too bad. I'm becoming quite numb to Snyder's slow motion, intense closeups and random speedups. But I do wish Snyder made it more clear just how violent Rorschach was with the police. In the comic, he throws sugar into an officer's eyes — that's omitted here. And his grappling gun made such a quiet sound, you'd never believe it actually hurt anybody.

I will say, however, I am glad that this film's brevity put Rorschach's psychiatrist in a better light. I hated how Moore portrayed Malcolm Long and now we don't have time to see him waffle around idiotically and become shaken to the core by a couple of scary stories. Of course, Snyder oddly chose to not make those stories as scary as they could have been. The young Walter didn't shove a cigarette in a boy's eye. And the adult Rorschach didn't savagely burn the kidnapper alive. This just further confirms my theory that Rorschach is Snyder's favorite character and he wanted to present him in the best light possible.


I don't have any other complaints until the scene of Dan and Laurie deciding to suit up. I loved how the comic showed how awkward and silly it is for a middle-aged man to pull on tight sweats and a ridiculous cape. But Snyder skipped over that, cutting to a fit, trim Nite Owl posing triumphantly with a swelling orchestral score, just like we've seen in every single Batman movie. That costume is impossible for a man to put on by himself, which I think really undercuts one of the main elements of this story.

And, of course, I have to complain about Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah." Apparently, Snyder deliberately chose that song because it's ironic and ridiculous. But that choice creates a major whiplash in tone, as it directly followed the triumphant act of heroism accompanied with composer Tyler Bates doing his best impression of John Williams or Danny Elfman. Look, if you want to show how ridiculous these people are, then do it. But if you want to make them cool and heroic, then you need to do that. You can't have it both ways. And abruptly bouncing around between competing tones is a weakness of Snyder's I've noticed in other movies, most notably Man of Steel.


Just like how Snyder never misses an opportunity to show a sex scene, he just can't resist ramping up the violence to absurd levels. Slicing off a man's arms — while he was still alive — was grotesque and unnecessary. Plus, it didn't happen like that in the comic. Snyder just had to be as "shocking" as possible.

I will admit that Rorschach collecting his mask in the prison is more convenient. But having him put in on in front of Dr. Long and shouting, "What do you see?!" is incredibly cheesy. And so is the extended fight scene of Nite Owl and Silk Spectre in the prison hall. They pull off so many impossible kicks and flips, while taking down a never-ending barrage of prisoners. It just goes on forever.


Everything's pretty brief and serviceable until we get to Dan hacking into Adrian's computer. Him guessing the password in the comic might have been fine back in the '80s, but not in 2009. Especially with the password itself in large capital letters on the spine of one of three books sitting on the desk. Just because something was in the comic, does not mean it has to be in the movie.

A minor quibble, but I was rather sad to see Adrian's Karnak staff to be so ethnically diverse. In the comic, he intentionally only used Vietnamese refugees because they were expendable. And I also miss the haunting image of Adrian exposing a beautiful garden with flowers and butterflies to a harsh Antarctic snowstorm. But we did get a cgi Bubastis, even though she serves no purpose here, since Snyder omitted Adrian's cloning experiments. Just another example of Snyder including something from the comics without examining why it was there in the first place.


Speaking of Snyder omitting stunning visuals from the comics, I feel like he totally wiffed on Archy's flight to Antarctica. It was one of the most bright moments in the comic, but Snyder shuns bright light as if he were a vampire. So we're left with yet another dull and dark scene, with the inappropriately timed Jimi Hendrix version of "All Along the Watchtower." Yeah, I get that you kind of have to include that song, but not at this moment in the movie. And certainly not this upbeat, psychedelic version of it.

It's also a small shame that Snyder didn't include Nite Owl's hover bikes. Did he think they looked too silly? Or was he just trying to cut costs? Anyway, the big fight against Adrian kicks off in the most implausible way imaginable. Rorschach dives at Adrian, who spontaneously leaps five feet into the air, causing Rorschach to crash head-first into a row of televisions. Why, oh why did Snyder have this compulsive need to ramp up the action to inhuman levels?


I guess now's a good time as any to talk about the ending. First of all, let's discuss Snyder's execution. Even though he destroyed several cities, the only one he showed was New York (because that's all we saw in the comic). We get a cameo of Bernard and Bernie (although Bernie is way too tall and old looking). We also get a return of Dr. Long with all his inkblot tests stupidly falling out of his briefcase and floating around him. So many cheesy visual choices!

But the worst choice of all comes down to the story. Yes, I understand the temptation to avoid the psychic space squid that looks like a vagina. But the sheer insanity of that unthinkable monstrosity is the most important part of Adrian's plan! The world never would have united against the threat of Dr. Manhattan because this movie repeatedly emphasized the fact that he was an American asset. I think it's much more probable that the Soviet Union would have immediately attacked America after this, and much of the world would have fallen in line. After all, they were the government that trained and employed this super being.

I also don't think this plan would have been crazy enough to make the Comedian snap. Giving a few people cancer and then essentially dropping a handful of nukes on the world isn't really out of the realm of the Comedian's imagination. But actually creating a living alien with psychic powers and filled with the worst nightmares conceivable is something that would justify Eddie's response. And the response of everyone else, for that matter. Why would Dr. Manhattan so willingly make himself the scapegoat for this poorly thought-out plan?

And I hated the death of Rorschach. The perfect inkblot bloodstain. Dan falling to his knees, screaming like his lover just died. And then a cgi rendering of Rorschach's hat "artistically" falling from the sky. He wasn't that important! Why is Snyder treating him like the savior of mankind?

But to Snyder's credit, I am glad that he skipped over one sex scene — the incredibly random and awkward round between Dan and Laurie in Karnak. And I think it was nice to have Dan and Laurie in more opposition to Adrian's deeds — well, at least enough to punch him a few more times, but not enough to expose the truth to the world.

Sadly, Snyder cut out one of my favorite parts of the ending of this story. Adrian begs Dr. Manhattan to tell him that he actually achieved world peace, but Dr. Manhattan refuses, only saying that nothing ever ends. Instead, all we get is Adrian looking up at the ceiling with an emotionless face, while the overused Mozart's Requiem blasts away in the background. 

Later, Laurie got to say Dr. Manhattan's line — after a rather awkward reconciliation with her mother. And, of course, the necessary scene of Rorschach's journal being discovered — although Robert Redford was oddly replaced with Ronald Reagan. Then we cut to the credits, with an insanely upbeat, hard rock version of "Desolation Row" performed by My Chemical Romance, and I'm left to wonder what, exactly, I'm supposed to be feeling now. Did Snyder expect audiences to be cheering and celebrating at this point? Because that's what this song assumes.




If I were Zack Snyder's English teacher and this movie was his book report, I'd give him a B-minus. He clearly read the source material and knows it quite well. However, he doesn't understand it! He completely missed the whole point of the story and consistently undercut its message with almost every choice he made. And as far as adaptations go, Snyder most often took the coward's way out by not making any choices at all. Comic book panels are not storyboards for a reason. And this movie is perfect example of that.

Watching Snyder's Watchmen is not an enjoyable experience. And most of the world agrees — it only earned $187 million in the box office, essentially making it a flop when you factor in the budget to make and market it. However, it wasn't an absolute failure. The multiple extended editions sold fairly well and — most importantly to DC — it sparked a surge in sales for the original comic. And for that, I have this movie to thank. Without it, I probably never would have read Watchmen. 

So do I owe Snyder an apology for ripping him to shreds in this overly long blog post? Well, to borrow from Snyder's favorite character, I'll look down on him and whisper ... "No."