Changing the World One Apocalypse At a Time

R. Fiore has an essay up on tcj.com about the Watchmen book and comic. He argues, in part that the movie’s weaknesses are those of the book.

the entire movie depends on an idea that became obsolete within a few years after the book came out, which is that nuclear war was such an imminent absolute threat that the only decent course was non-resistance to totalitarianism. What this in turn depends on is a failure to understand the difference between nuclear war and every other kind of war, which is regardless of who was left hobbling, the respective high commands could not hope to personally escape the consequences. Even if they were sheltered during the blast, all the comforts and riches of their capitols would be blasted away. But what really makes the whole idea empty is the belief that conflicts between peoples aren’t genuine, and that they could all be swept away by an imaginary bogeyman. This is an idea as juvenile as any that ever appeared in a comic book.

So first, I don’t think Watchmen is pro-totalitarianism (V is another story). Ozymandias and his final solution are undercut and questioned repeatedly, both by other characters and by the narrative itself. Rorscach and Dr. Manhattan both suggest, for different reasons, that destroying New York may not have been worth the candle, and the final page of the book indicates that the fate of the world hangs, not on Ozymandias, but on some moron with ketchup on his shirt. (If you want to see me natter on about this topic at greater length, you can read this and also this).

I have problems with several of Fiore’s other points as well. For example, if I understand his argument aright, he seems to be under the impression that, because nuclear war would kill everybody, the people in charge of the nuclear buttons would never actually press them. The whole cold-war paranoia thing was just a big dumb mistake; nobody was ever in any danger, since mutually assured destruction was absolutely fool-proof. The lesson of the end of the Cold War was that we never had to worry about the Cold War to begin with.

Fiore’s correct in some sense — if our leaders were rational, we needn’t have worried about nuclear war. The problem, of course, is that they weren’t particularly. I’ve read a bunch of accounts of the Cuban Missile Crisis (most recently one by Garry Wills) and I’m pretty convinced that John F. Kennedy was enough of a preening prima donna that he would have sooner destroyed the world than lose the news cycle. Thus, avoiding nuclear holocaust depended on…Khruschev. As it turned out, Khruschev was more level-headed than even a glass-half-full, turning-dog-turds-into-lemonade, off-to-join-the-Peace-Corps-and-frolic-with-the-happy-natives kind of optimist had any right to expect. But just because things worked out doesn’t mean that people weren’t right to be a little nervous.

I also disagree with Fiore’s contention that Watchmen misunderstands history and people. I mean, yes, obviously, the fake-space-alien-uniting-the-world is not especially probable. Among other things, the plot in the comic relies on the existence of psychic powers broadly distributed among the populace. And a guy who can catch bullets. And the existence of teleportation technology. Watchmen is many things, but a realistic narrative it is not.

But Fiore, obviously, is talking about more than that. He’s arguing that it’s ridiculous and childish to believe that conflicts between people can be swept aside by “an imaginary bogeyman.” He’s saying that miracles not only can’t happen, but wouldn’t work anyway because people are too set in their ways. Ultimately, Fiore seems to be skeptical not just of miracles, but of change.

Like Fiore, I don’t really believe in miracles, and I have my doubts about change. But I’ve been reading Terry Eagleton, who, as a Marxist, has a certain commitment to miraculous social transformation, and he does make you think. In his memoir The Gatekeeper, he discusses at length a Carmelite nunnery where he served as altar boy as a child.

What was most subversive about [the nuns], however, was their implacable otherworldliness. There are tough-minded types who believe that this world is the best we can muster, some of whom are known as materialists and the rest as conservatives. Whatever they call themselves, the hard-nosed realists who claim that there is no need for another world have clearly not been reading the newspapers…For [the nuns], the flaw of the world ran so deep that it cried out for some thoroughgoing transformation, known in their jargon as redemption. Short of this, things were likely to get a lot worse.

Fiore is one of those realists; he thinks the world is what it is. Moore, on the other hand, is suggesting that transformation is possible through a kind of apocalypse. Not Marxist revolution or Christian salvation, but something analogous; a global scale cataclysmic event, killing millions and shifting earth’s concept of its own place in the galaxy.

Contra Fiore, I think that such a massive event would actually really shake people up. 9/11 wasn’t as transformative as some like to claim, but it did succeed in concentrating a lot of minds. And the even Moore suggests would be much bigger — many more dead, and the sudden revelation of a hostile alien race. The only comparison would be the first European encounter with the Americas, which had massive psychological, spiritual, economic, and political consequences, to say the least. If you don’t think a bogeyman on the scale Moore propounds would be enough to change the world, it’s hard to say what would. Certainly, if you’re that assured of stability, it’s hard to see why you would think (as Fiore seems to) that George Bush could have made much of a difference one way or the other.

Moore does suggest that his particular miracle would require gallons and gallons of blood. His willingness to look at that unflichingly and unsympathetically is why Watchmen doesn’t end up endorsing violence or fascism. The revolution may really not be worth it; utopia isn’t necessarily grace.

The funniest thing about both sides of this argument, maybe, is that we know now that both Fiore and Moore are too pessimistic. Fiore argues that the cold war conflict was intractable; Moore argues that it could only be worked out by piling bodies like cordwood. And what happened instead (as Fiore at least should know)? The Cold War ended very rapidly and with (as these things go) little loss of life. Of course, the world isn’t all hunky-dory (and Moore didn’t say it would be.) But things do change, and not always for the worse.

Watchmen is, among other things, about the possibilities and perils of radical political change. It’s not a political treatise; it doesn’t present solutions to the problems it raises. But I don’t think it’s wrong in arguing that those problems could, perhaps, require transformative change, and in further suggesting that, for better or worse, such changes do occur. Fiore says that the plot of Watchmen is hard to believe, but, as Terry Eagleton notes the story of humanity is itself “grossly improbable.” The cynical view that tomorrow will be like today is in fact the most hopeless naivete — more naive, even, than trusting in our leaders not to kill us, or in believing that the fears of our parents were unreal because they no longer happen to be ours. Things do change, in large ways and small. The future is like the past only in being different from the present. Moore got that, which is why, even though its yesterday and tomorrow aren’t ours, Watchmen still seems up to date.

Very skeptical about the Comedian

Now that I think about it, I don’t believe the Comedian would be so shocked by Veidt’s master plan. Kill 5 million people to scam the world into a new era of peace? The Comedian didn’t mind Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Dresden or the bombing of Vietnam, all mass killings of innocents for higher goals. In fact most people don’t mind those deaths, not unless they’re forcefully reminded and hectored a bit, and even then …

Of course Veidt’s body count is higher, but the Comedian doesn’t mind shooting a woman pregnant with his own child if she gets in his face. If the ordinary person is, at most, regretful and occasionally troubled by politically motivated aerial slaughter, then I would expect the Comedian could keep his soul together in the face of even an extra-size jumbo slaying like that engineered by Veidt. At least I don’t see any reason to assume otherwise unless you feel like doing Alan Moore and his script a favor. It’s quite a big gimme at the heart of a classic.

UPDATE: Another note of disgruntlement about the Comedian. His keynote line goes as follows:

“What happened to the American dream? You’re looking at it — it came true.”

I guess the idea is that America’s all about kicking ass when the other guy can’t kick back, and a case could be made highlighting that particular strain of the American experience. But I’ve always seen the phrase itself, “American dream,” used this way: In America you can work in a factory and earn enough to raise your kids in a house and then send them to college so they can become middle class. The idea managed to be true for a couple of decades but has since hit the wobbles. Still, nothing to do with shooting protesters.

Unusual

As I understand it, a hangover is supposed to last a day at most. Mine has started its third day, and I have learned why I do not normally drink hard alcohol.  Like Bertie Wooster, I’m evolving various metaphors to express the hangover experience. A favorite: my skull is made out of crepe paper; the contents have turned to egg yolk; if I move my jaw while speaking, some of the yolk may escape thru the vent just over my ear.

My condition contributed to an unpleasant moment at the Second Cup. The place is lovely in the morning, lovely and quiet. But if one person speaks loudly, their voice is inescapable. This morning the person who spoke loudly was one of the girls on the cafe’s staff.  Normally she is uncommunicative and busy cleaning. But lately she’s changed gears, and it turns out she has a voice like an auto collision with words set to it. To try another line, if a car alarm could say, “I mean, what is that?” it would sound just like this girl. 
After a couple of hours, I shuffled over, excused myself, and intruded in her conversation. I tried the diplomatic approach: “Because of the acoustics here, your voice kind of bounces around.” Her, after a moment’s thought: “Okay! I’ll turn up the music.” To be fair, I don’t think she was being stupid, just rude in a quick-witted way. I shuffled off again, and from that moment she was quiet. Not that a lot of moments were left, since her shift was almost over. I had waited a long while, subjectively the equivalent of years.
Now I’m at a different Second Cup, more crowded and in some ways noisier, but the noise is ambient instead of being focused, and it doesn’t talk, just grinds coffee. But the yolk is still sloshing about, and I miss my old Second Cup. I’m going to try the old place again and if necessary ask one of the other kids on staff to act as go-between so that a settlement can be reached with the noisy girl. Because, make no mistake, the kids are still great
UPDATE:   The hangover symptoms I describe are “the worst,” according to the boy who was sweeping the hallway outside the bathroom at my fallback 2nd Cup. He confirmed that a hangover lasting three days is highly unusual, not to say unheard of, and suggested that I might be suffering an allergic reaction to hard alcohol. The allergy would explain a lot, including my uncharacteristic good sense in staying away from hard alcohol for most of my life.
UPDATE  2:  10:30 pm, Montreal time. Coming here to the Cafe Depot, I found Ganesh and Pariabas, two young fellows in my building, hanging out on the front steps with Kevin, another young fellow but not normally one of their buddies. Ten minutes of discussion on the origins of my hangover, why I had drunk so much, funny things said by various parties while drunk, what I should do to avoid hangovers (water), and how Pari had drunk half a bottle of scotch for three weeks without any side-effects because it was during a leisurely vacation somewhere and he had been in a good frame of mind.  I move on with the gratifying sense of having been the center of attention. Maybe that’s why my hangover sticks around; on the other hand, sitting down here I found that I lowered myself into place like an old man with vertebrae that might pop their strings and scatter on the floor; so the effects are real and they linger.
A cheerful note: my favorite barista is behind the counter; usually she works the day shift. She’s a pretty, dark-eyed, good-natured girl with a boyfriend who loves Watchmen. She likes it too, but the book is really his obsession, not hers; I guess that’s suitable, seeing as how he’s the guy. They read it because of the movie, which they both liked a lot. I take this as a testament to Alan Moore: in however distorted a form, his story breaks thru to a new audience. I was going to say “gets thru to a new generation,” but Roger Ebert and (God, again) Andrew Sullivan both liked the movie too.
UPDATE 3:  Now into day four. All that’s left is an ache over my right eyebrow, and I’m starting to think that’s because of the overstuffed chair I use at my fallback 2nd Cup. 
UPDATE 4:  My hangover was officially gone as of yesterday morning, when a Cafe Depot barista (not my favorite) remarked that I was singing. A four-day hangover — not bad!

Who Has Catalogued the Watchmen?

I’m doing a column on Alan Moore and Watchmen, and as part of my preparation I just went thru the comic and made notes about the various recurring images and symbols that pop up thru the length of the work. Has anyone else done this? It seems like an obvious step for some geek (aside from myself) to take, and I’d like to backstop my attempt with somebody else’s.

Don’t Italicize the Bolded

I’m reading the Atlantic’s piece about Alan Moore. It seems okay to me, nice writing and whatnot. But when he quotes dialogue, the author italicizes the words that were bolded in the original. I’ve seen a few people do this and the effect is always bad. A comics page is not the same as a text page. Words get bolded on the comics page only to break up the visuals; the emphasized words don’t jump out, they just give the eye enough traction to make it through bits of print that otherwise would be lost amid all the pictures. In straight text the words aren’t going to be lost; put words here and there into italics and they become a bit overbearing. So we get Dr. Manhattan, that limp, far-away personality with one eye on the tachyons, biting his words off like an undergraduate intellectual in mid-debate:

“Time is simultaneous,” he explains in the comic to his girlfriend, Laurie, “an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.

What do we call that? Misguided fidelity that produces a mistake.

Two Things I Thought I Knew

I’ve been reading about Watchmen, the book and the movie. In the comic, I always thought the Gordian Knot Company was a bit of a stretch as names go. Yes, the Gordian knot was impossible to untie, but you don’t really think of untying locks,  just opening them; to my mind, rope and metal are too different for one to easily suggest the other. Additionally, the legend of the Gordian knot is known but not widely known, at least not in the U.S. Not a likely name for a small-time consumer service company.

I figured Moore wedged the name in there simply to further his Veidt-Alexander parallels. But no. He said in 1988 that he just thought the name would be funny and that it was only as the book went on that he realized how it dovetailed with Veidt’s monumental self-esteem.
Next, the movie gives us Dr. Manhattan always surrounded by an eye-repelling blue-white glow. I thought the glow was one further effect of the film’s deadly CGI blight. Again no.  Peter Aperlo’s Watchmen: The Movie Companion tells us the glow comes from the little bulbs on Billy Crudup’s motion-capture suit. It was, what do you call, actual-source light or something. Only the big blue muscles were CGI.

Nobody Much Is Watching the Watchmen

Thanks to patford at TCJ’s message board, we have a link to this box office status report by Simon Brew at the site loudly named Den of Geek! The news is mediocre:

Seven weeks after its release, however, and Watchmen‘s legs have all but buckled. For the weekend just gone, its seventh on release, the film brought home $199,114. More worryingly, that makes for a total take of $106,848,750 in America. It’s the 358th most successful film of all time in the US off the back of those numbers, and in 357th is Batman & Robin.

Oy!

The current international take for the film, and this has been petering out too[,] … currently sits at $74,207,581, for a total worldwide gross of $181,103,123. For the sake of comparison, Batman & Robin drew over $130m overseas, for a total of $238m.

Out of Watchmen‘s receipts has to come the exhibitors’ revenues, marketing costs, distribution expenses and such like. And then there’s the film’s budget, with the most conservative suggesting that it cost $120m to bring the film to the screen in the first place. Off the back of box office returns such as Watchmen‘s, it’s perhaps unsurprising that we’re not going to be seeing a mass market R-rated comic book movie for a long time to come.

Fortunately, for Watchmen its real money spinner is yet to come. … it’s a film that’s going to have legs for many years on the home market, and Warner Bros will no doubt keenly exploit it with special and collectors’ editions en masse over the coming decade or so. Watchmen will not, when the final numbers are totted up, be a business failure for the studio.
However, tomorrow – Friday April 24th – marks the film’s 50th day on release, and it’s just a shame that it won’t be playing for that much longer …
Well, no, there I cannot agree. Watchmen is not a good movie, especially when viewed in a  theater with a big sound system. There is much pain and tedium built into the Watchmen-viewing experience. Yet I do believe the predictions of a long home-theater afterlife are correct. I know I want a copy, as long as I don’t have to pay retail. The Watchmen movie is bizarre and unique, and I still love the credits sequence.
Oh yeah, this link will start you on a magical mystery tour thru the posts Noah and I did about the film’s many shortcomings and isolated virtues.