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| Scene from Watchmen (2019) |
Welcome to a new column called Channel Surfing, in which I sporadically look at current TV shows and talk about them. These are not ones that I care to write weekly recaps for and are instead reflections either on the episode, the series, or particular moments. This will hopefully help to share personal opinions as well as discover entertainment on the outer pantheon that I feel is well worth checking out, or in some cases, shows that are weird enough to talk about, but should never be seen.
For decades now, there has been one rule of thumb: Alan Moore's "Watchmen" comic is unfilmable. It remains out of the most acclaimed graphic novels in history, but its size is one of the few hurdles that come to make a faithful adaptation. In fact, the sole film version from 2009 gained a certain notoriety for releasing multiple versions of the story on top of its theatrical one. It's not just what's drawn on the page. It's the intermittent stories full of exciting side stories that make "Watchmen" such a fun story, but inevitably impossible to create a cohesive vision of what Moore wants. Even if Zack Snyder's film got closest, there's still those who believe otherwise.
That's what makes the chutzpah of Damen Lindelof all the more exciting. The producer previous adapted Tom Perrota's "The Leftovers" for HBO and turned it from the most depressing, soul-draining drama on TV to one of the most comedic, abstract explorations of grief by the third season that included an episode aboard a sex boat (really). Lindelof is not a producer who simply sticks to script. He's more interested in what he can branch out from, and that's part of the fun of HBO's new series Watchmen, which will disappoint those expecting a literal adaptation of the film, but will likely excite those wanting a 21st century take on its many themes.
The story takes place predominantly in the aftermath of "Watchmen." Everything that's happened in Moore's story has already passed. This is now a world that must come to terms with those consequences, and part of it comes with legalizing the belief that masked vigilantes are dangerous, and Rorschach may or may not be a white supremacist. So much of the world feels built on what's already known, though it's not essential to understand to appreciate what the show is doing. Yes, it will make small things like references to Veidt, Night Owl, squids, and even the iconic happy face all the more satisfying, but this is striving to be its own story exploring the legacy of the Watchmen not from the generation that the graphic novel saw as elders, but as the young upstarts who tried to keep things in order. It even goes so far as to make History Channel-style reenactment shows praising their achievements.
At the center is Angela Abar (Regina King), who fights crime as Sister Knight: a figure dressed entirely in black who works with a team that uses state of the art technology to explore the psychology of their suspects. To watch a man name Looking Glass (Tim Blake Nelson) interrogate a man about his involvement with a hate group is one of the show's earliest moments of awe. In a room with 360-degree television screens, he speaks in a monotone and asks questions as images flash. His silver mask causes them to appear like his own form of a Rorschach test. It's trippy, and most of all prove what Lindelof brings to this show. He's more interested in how crime in a post-superhero world has evolved and borrowed from itself. It's an enjoyable experience full of small mysteries, such as baby squids falling from the sky. It's treated as a common occurrence, which only makes the whole experience all the eerier.
It's also a more eccentric show than anyone could've predicted given the original's gritty tone, wallowing in misery that uses humor sparingly. Here there is an odd sense of eccentricity in moments such as the episode-long use of the Rodgers & Hammerstein classic musical Oklahoma. Not only is the title a reference to a song, but an early scene takes place at an event that Angela refers to as "Black Oklahoma" and the show ends, albeit in a more morbid tone, with "Poor Jud is Daid." Of course, it helps that the series takes place in said state, but even then it's the one kooky element in a show that relies more heavily on establishing crime procedures and characters of varying backgrounds who are likely to impact the rest of the story.
Given Lindelof's penchant for exploring more mature themes underneath the premise (see: The Leftovers), it makes sense why he chose to make the show at such a lopsided angle. It may isolate fans expecting something literal, but in a way, it's more about how "Watchmen" impacts the modern era, how the world has evolved (or hasn't) in those decades since Richard Nixon had four terms and New York was destroyed by a sadistic, powerful man. It's possibly a more fitting story to tell in the modern political environment than rehashing who killed The Comedian. Nowadays it's about how (to quote William Faulkner) that the past is never dead, it's not even past. It's still with us, and it will be exciting to see what Watchmen brings to the show.
It helps that King, fresh off of an Oscar win for If Beale Street Could Talk, already is bringing a new wrinkle to the mix. She is a mother who was previously shamed as a cop because of her lack of anonymity. For all intents and purposes, everyone things she retired. All she did was put on a mask and fight with more maneuvering. She looks awesome in the outfit as if she could knock you out with just a side swipe of her arm. The third act of the episode features an exciting exploration of King's time as Sister Knight, fighting a criminal while hiding behind cows and her partner Judd Crawford (Don Johnson) flies the old Nite Owl ship before piloting it into the ground. It's enough of a callback that it entices audiences of the old and new collaborating. Seeing as this is the flashiest moment in the episode, one can expect this to be more character-driven than sheer spectacle. By the end, it's easy to understand why Angela still fights for justice. She almost needs to.
Watchmen in 2019 is not the show one would expect. It's far from a direct adaptation, yet its themes are bled into the wool of the series so well. It manages to create so much new material that it's not so much world-building but adding a few townhouses into the familiar. It's also a vehicle that looks to be among HBO's most exciting fantasy series of the modern era, possibly even more-so than Westworld. There's so much grounded in the human condition that shines through in the pilot that everything else in it manages to be a striking piece of the world becoming clear. It's an interesting and appetizing proclamation, leaving plenty to think about. It's not adapting a story, but building on it. How does the present connect to the past? What even will come from a world that already has featured baby squids and a half-dozen references to Oklahoma? Just about anything, and that's a great thing.
That's what makes the chutzpah of Damen Lindelof all the more exciting. The producer previous adapted Tom Perrota's "The Leftovers" for HBO and turned it from the most depressing, soul-draining drama on TV to one of the most comedic, abstract explorations of grief by the third season that included an episode aboard a sex boat (really). Lindelof is not a producer who simply sticks to script. He's more interested in what he can branch out from, and that's part of the fun of HBO's new series Watchmen, which will disappoint those expecting a literal adaptation of the film, but will likely excite those wanting a 21st century take on its many themes.
The story takes place predominantly in the aftermath of "Watchmen." Everything that's happened in Moore's story has already passed. This is now a world that must come to terms with those consequences, and part of it comes with legalizing the belief that masked vigilantes are dangerous, and Rorschach may or may not be a white supremacist. So much of the world feels built on what's already known, though it's not essential to understand to appreciate what the show is doing. Yes, it will make small things like references to Veidt, Night Owl, squids, and even the iconic happy face all the more satisfying, but this is striving to be its own story exploring the legacy of the Watchmen not from the generation that the graphic novel saw as elders, but as the young upstarts who tried to keep things in order. It even goes so far as to make History Channel-style reenactment shows praising their achievements.
At the center is Angela Abar (Regina King), who fights crime as Sister Knight: a figure dressed entirely in black who works with a team that uses state of the art technology to explore the psychology of their suspects. To watch a man name Looking Glass (Tim Blake Nelson) interrogate a man about his involvement with a hate group is one of the show's earliest moments of awe. In a room with 360-degree television screens, he speaks in a monotone and asks questions as images flash. His silver mask causes them to appear like his own form of a Rorschach test. It's trippy, and most of all prove what Lindelof brings to this show. He's more interested in how crime in a post-superhero world has evolved and borrowed from itself. It's an enjoyable experience full of small mysteries, such as baby squids falling from the sky. It's treated as a common occurrence, which only makes the whole experience all the eerier.
It's also a more eccentric show than anyone could've predicted given the original's gritty tone, wallowing in misery that uses humor sparingly. Here there is an odd sense of eccentricity in moments such as the episode-long use of the Rodgers & Hammerstein classic musical Oklahoma. Not only is the title a reference to a song, but an early scene takes place at an event that Angela refers to as "Black Oklahoma" and the show ends, albeit in a more morbid tone, with "Poor Jud is Daid." Of course, it helps that the series takes place in said state, but even then it's the one kooky element in a show that relies more heavily on establishing crime procedures and characters of varying backgrounds who are likely to impact the rest of the story.
Given Lindelof's penchant for exploring more mature themes underneath the premise (see: The Leftovers), it makes sense why he chose to make the show at such a lopsided angle. It may isolate fans expecting something literal, but in a way, it's more about how "Watchmen" impacts the modern era, how the world has evolved (or hasn't) in those decades since Richard Nixon had four terms and New York was destroyed by a sadistic, powerful man. It's possibly a more fitting story to tell in the modern political environment than rehashing who killed The Comedian. Nowadays it's about how (to quote William Faulkner) that the past is never dead, it's not even past. It's still with us, and it will be exciting to see what Watchmen brings to the show.
It helps that King, fresh off of an Oscar win for If Beale Street Could Talk, already is bringing a new wrinkle to the mix. She is a mother who was previously shamed as a cop because of her lack of anonymity. For all intents and purposes, everyone things she retired. All she did was put on a mask and fight with more maneuvering. She looks awesome in the outfit as if she could knock you out with just a side swipe of her arm. The third act of the episode features an exciting exploration of King's time as Sister Knight, fighting a criminal while hiding behind cows and her partner Judd Crawford (Don Johnson) flies the old Nite Owl ship before piloting it into the ground. It's enough of a callback that it entices audiences of the old and new collaborating. Seeing as this is the flashiest moment in the episode, one can expect this to be more character-driven than sheer spectacle. By the end, it's easy to understand why Angela still fights for justice. She almost needs to.
Watchmen in 2019 is not the show one would expect. It's far from a direct adaptation, yet its themes are bled into the wool of the series so well. It manages to create so much new material that it's not so much world-building but adding a few townhouses into the familiar. It's also a vehicle that looks to be among HBO's most exciting fantasy series of the modern era, possibly even more-so than Westworld. There's so much grounded in the human condition that shines through in the pilot that everything else in it manages to be a striking piece of the world becoming clear. It's an interesting and appetizing proclamation, leaving plenty to think about. It's not adapting a story, but building on it. How does the present connect to the past? What even will come from a world that already has featured baby squids and a half-dozen references to Oklahoma? Just about anything, and that's a great thing.
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