It take something pretty special to get me into a movie theater for opening weekend. Watchmen was in that category years ago. I knew the first time I read the book that if it ever made it to the screen, I’d be right there. And when it kept not happening, I was repeatedly saddened.
This was worth the wait.
It’s a long film, but I barely noticed. In fact, I could easily have sat through another 30-45 minutes of it and not complained. The script (though tweaked here and there) was very true to the book. The mood was wonderfully bleak. The special effects were gorgeous. There were things left out that I’d have rather seen left in. An actual explanation of Bubastis, for example. And occasionally, naked Dr. Manhattan was a bit distracting (But I think that’s more my hangup than a problem with the film itself. Stoopid internalized cultural nakedness taboo!).
And the cast? Jeffrey Dean Morgan: the Comedian incarnate. Patrick Wilson: marvelously nebbishy yet not unbelievably so. And Rorschach… What do I say about Jackie Earle Haley? Half the time, he scared the living hell out of me. The other half, I was identifying with him so strongly I was almost ill from it. He’s beyond perfect. “I’m not locked in with you: you’re locked in with me.” I didn’t know whether to cheer or hide under my seat.
Now I need to see it in IMAX.