You don’t understand. You all think I’m trapped in here with you, but you’re all trapped in here with me.

Rorschach vs Dr. Manhattan. Who wins?

This marks my fourth experience with this story. My first full grasp of the real villain, tho.

I’m 19 when Zack Snyder’s Watchmen (2009) hits theaters. My dad is 53. We go together.

Experience #1) Watchmen: The Theatrical Cut (2009) [162 minutes]

Neither of us knows there’s a graphic novel. I’m just excited for R-rated superheroes. We don’t know what to expect.

He drives, buys our tickets and stays awake the whole runtime. Noteworthy.

We don’t discuss much afterward. It shook us. Neither can say we loved it. Dad doesn’t dislike it – he just can’t explain what there is to like.

I can’t say I enjoy it either.

I don’t understand why it’s so dark, or why nothing feels satisfying. Who has powers? How do we intuit such details as the story unfolds?

Years later, I read the graphic novel.

Experience #2: Watchmen (Moore & Gibbons 1986) [414 pages]

A 10-star book. Still sad, but less bleak. Beams of sunshine peek through. It’s an intricate character study which raises philosophical questions and challenges moral ambiguity.

Provides a unique meditation on the topic of sexual violence. How memory transforms thru time. Events reframe across retellings.

Only one character actually has a “super power.”

Soon after reading, I rewatch Snyder’s version with a friend.

Experience #3: Watchmen: The Director’s Cut (2009) [186 minutes]

Suddenly, the inspired magnificence illuminates.

The truth: Watchmen is rich and powerful, demands revisiting.

Don’t expect love on first watch, especially without context. The story is tragic, philosophically heavy. The world has concrete rules, but not obvious parameters. Dr. Manhattan informs Laurie of something she’ll soon admit – and then appears surprised when she does. How’s that work?

I still wonder. That alone justifies this animated duology. Watchmen’s material warrants a full return.

A key difference between the graphic novel and Snyder’s film lies in the ending, a change that irks purists.

But Snyder’s entitled to artistic license. His film is nothing if not reverent. Much of Watchmen (2009) recreates the source material frame-by-frame, panel-by-panel. Capturing the stillness of the graphic novel with uncanny precision. Each cinematic composition is a living comic panel, frozen in tone, mood and arrangement. It’s a historic achievement in adaptation.

Most fan criticism stems from Snyder’s refusal to depict the novel’s original conclusion.

The animated version does. We see the squid. Watch it land.

Experience #4) Watchmen Chapters I & II (2024) [84 & 89 mins]

The animated two parter can be considered a product of its live action predecessor; a further grounding of the narrative in realism. Brute savagery and elaborate fight choreography are de-emphasized for the sake of more intimate character interactions.

A more tender form of the story is revealed. Favoring relationship fodder like the mutual respect between Dan & Rorschach. Less intrigue, perhaps, than the graphic novel. But a much clearer telling is the result.

A Dr. Manhattan one can more easily sympathize with. His personal agenda, use of subterfuge and potentially sinister intents are distanced from the spotlight. This Jon’s more dutiful puppet.

Nite Owl & Silk Spectre II

Between halves, the narrative focus shifts – from Blake and Osterman to Dreiberg and Juspeczyk. Here, richer traces of redemption emerge.

They form the emotional core of Chapter II. The film even inverts their relationship: it’s Nite Owl who is found bare-butt, musing. He’s the one who struggles in bed.

Another inversion of traditional gender roles: Laurie’s apathy toward the escalating situation – her avoidance – suggests a certain cowardly carelessness. Dan, on the other hand, can’t run or hide.

His intuition tells him they’re nearing a point of no return. His body won’t cooperate with basic self-interest. Unlike Jon, Dan’s identity is rooted in being an individual within a collaborative community.

Midair Intercourse

Only after rescuing civilians from a burning building do Dan and Laurie consummate their connection – hovering in Archie, Nite Owl’s airship. Remote. Removed. Secluded from all else. An impossible act to witness.

Sometime after, Dr. Manhattan phases back to Earth mid-flight, entering Archie directly from Mars. That would require near-omniscience – yet he’s clearly unaware of Laurie’s current location, thoughts or behavior. He isn’t monitoring her. Jon only sees what he wants to. He burrows into quantum abstraction to avoid the harsher duty of self-governance.

Laurie, meanwhile, is searching for the missing piece to her jigsaw memory. She’s never been the most sympathetic character – nobody feels bad for Superman’s girlfriend – but here, her pathos becomes clear. She makes the courageous decision to speak to Jon on Mars. Her intentions are noble, unromantic.

She frames it as a mission for the people of Earth. That’s how she puts it to Dan – just before seemingly abandoning him. But she’s also attempting to take agency of the situation. Instead of being forced or commanded to go to Mars, she chooses to go.

I do wonder how events progress differently if she insists Jon speak with her on respectful terms. At a pre-arranged time & place (on Earth) the following day.

Patrick Wilson

A modern treasure. His impact on the animated Dan is tangible. One moment – just a single word, “No” – echoes his original performance. It hits with the same emotion and beauty.

An ironic mirror of Jon’s single-word protest, “Don’t,” from Chapter I. Do not instead of No. A command, not a lament.

Adrian Veidt

Few panels from the graphic novel depict him with any level of insecurity.

Chapter II contains his most human depiction. Maybe the most effective execution of Veidt yet. I finally understand the origin of his arctic fortress. His lynx. The squid.

Adrian’s finest moment is a final exchange with Jon.

He asks a question.

Without answering, Jon turns away and phases off planet.

That silence – that is the only moment Jon behaves virtuously.

Unintended Evil

In Chapter I, we watch Jon’s disaffection, his inertia, his refusal to act unless moved by another hand. He speaks his objections only after it’s far too late. Vietnam is just a smaller-scale version of Earth’s fate.

Jon is, in fact – unintentionally – the greatest villain in Watchmen. He is discord. Unfeeling and detached. Never acting, only reacting. In only the manner he sees fit.

The animated version brings that most clearly to the forefront. Tho it sands away a more sinister edge, his lack of empirical wisdom is laid bare.

Rorschach, by contrast, represents order. Reason and decency. Even when he quarrels with Dan, he is the first to apologize for speaking in a manner offensive to a friend.

He is the most morally committed. Dan and Rorschach represent two forms of virtue – human compassion versus brutal clarity. Theirs is the slightest of divergences. Antagonism at its pettiest.

When events become so twisted our most heroic heroes fall to superficial squabbling; it is Rorschach who rises above.

If nothing else, Watchmen Chapters I & II illuminate this arc quite clearly. While delivering a simpler, more practical edition of the narrative. For the first time, Rorschach’s quiet victory shines out from the story’s core.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

TLDR? Check IMDb or Letterboxd for briefer thoughts.