The final part of my analysis for Alan Moore and Zack Snyder's respective vision for Watchmen, where I take on The Black Freighter, Ozymandias, and Dr. Manhattan.
The Tale of the Black Freighter
“God has damned me. God has damned us all. Truly, life is hell, and death's rough hand her only deliverance.”
The Tale of the Black Freighter is the most forgotten piece of Watchmen’s puzzle, but it serves just as much of a purpose in the narrative. Woven between the Watchmen struggling in their lives in Moore’s novel, and told like a chapter book in Snyder’s film, this tale deeply embodies the trenches of the current state of the world the comic is shelved in. What’s most striking about this story is the ghostly imagery. It may not be the most exciting element of the story with a first glance, but on a second sight, this tale is littered with visual subtext that directly relates to the other characters in the story, and simultaneously explores the horrifying depths that the Black Freighter towers over.
Beyond the technical craft put on display, the grizzly voice work by way of Gerard Butler brings this story to life with agony. A man stranded at sea who has seemingly lost sight of himself as he tries to return back to his village where his family is soon to be slain by the crew of The Black Freighter. The Mariner is a man being tugged between damnation and salvation. Having lost his crew in a battle against The Black Freighter, he carries the heavy burden of the men he failed, and the possibility of losing his family to his failures as well. This story follows the path of a man floating along with a fractured tether of morality trying to pull him into the depths of his own psychological and physical failures. What does this say about The Mariner, and equally, what does it say as a reflection of the world of “Watchmen”?
Similar to the plotting and story of Watchmen, The Black Freighter is told in increments throughout each chapter in the graphic novel, and sporadically throughout the film. As one could expect, as the story moves along they both escalate to a riveting, and jaw-dropping ending. The Black Freighter’s world seems hopeless just as it does in the world outside of the pages. Caught in a tide of overbearing cynicism from the mass public, the rise of superheroes and superpowers paved the way for the age of the hero, and began to tear down the era of pirates along the way. A lot of Watchmen is about choices, the ones characters make that greatly define them as it greatly impacts the world around them. This goes hand in hand with the comic-book as both The Mariner and the Watchmen make choices that have consequences for their actions; but did the existence of the Watchmen inspire The Mariner? The owner of the newspaper stand selling the comic-book passes off a remark along the lines of, “Pirates are old news, superheroes are the new thing, why aren’t you reading about or paying attention to that?” To which the kid replies with something like, “I’m interested in it; what does it matter to you anyways?”
With the world’s infrastructure crumbling around them, the youth of the world is still driven to lose themselves in any entertainment they can consume. Considering pirates and epic, swashbuckling tales were the cream of the crop long before superheroes entered public consciousness, there was a time when those tales were optimistic, exciting, and hopeful. They worked as a means to give people something to lose themselves in to give them a reason to be hopeful again. Which, considering the ending of The Black Freighter, may be why the kid reading it is upset at the morally conflicting and abrupt ending of the book. It doesn’t give an optimistic answer or view on the world and its character. It rather takes the typical hero of the sea and redefines what it means to take on the burden of that mantle. Perhaps, like our own reality, the world of Watchmen inspires its sources of entertainment to be a reflection of the world they currently live in. Considering The Mariner and The Watchmen are the heroes of their own stories, or rather anti-heroes under some circumstances, both the novel and the film visualize two different eras of heroes that inspired people across sagas full of sea shanties, tights, capes, and massive sea vessels. Perhaps the ending of The Black Freighter is a condemnation of its heroes, the consequences of their actions, and at the end of the day, the only people with blood on their hands are the ones we look towards to protect us.
Adrian Veidt / Ozymandias
“The Comedian was right. Humanity's savage nature will inevitably lead to global annihilation. So in order to save this planet, I have to trick it... with the greatest practical joke in human history.”
The man behind it all, Ozymandias, King of kings. Just the thought of tackling a character this monumental is intimidating, and having spent months away from this project caught in front of a blinding, golden statue, greatly humbled me. The genius of Ozymandias is that his role is significantly smaller in terms of screen and page time, yet his presence or devious plans creates all of the drama that the other characters have to face. Which creates a villain that continuously has a role even if they aren’t a prominent physical presence. Many great villains sit under this umbrella, but Ozymandias stands apart because of his relationship with the world and his monetary worth. As he states in the film’s finale, he isn’t some typical comic-book villain that’ll create a loophole for the heroes to jump through to beat him. Veidt freeing himself from the shackles of being a masked vigilante under the Ozymandias moniker opened up opportunities for him to take advantage of a world descending into chaos.
As the world began to ask less of masked vigilantes with the arrival of Dr. Manhattan, this was Veidt’s opportunity to use that as a means to increase his capitalistic ventures. As I mentioned in the first half of the essay, Veidt ends up monetizing himself by finding worth in being one of the only people to reveal their true identity. The first Nite Owl, Hollis Mason, being one of the first. For Hollis, he also capitalized on his reveal and the world’s obsession with caped crusaders by writing the book, Under the Hood. An autobiography of Hollis’ stepping stones into becoming the Nite Owl, and the formation of the Minutemen. Hollis is obviously a bit more humbled than someone like Veidt who took a similar opportunity and turned it into something bigger, and in his own way better.
We see Veidt’s signature “Nostalgia” cologne marketed everywhere, his toy line is on the brink of distribution, and his empire is nearly built, he just has to place the final piece. When all the threads have merged to Antarctica and Veidt is revealed as the murderer of the Comedian, everything falls into place. For having spent all of his time hiding behind the scenes and earning the good will of public perception with the staged assassination attempt, Veidt is able to follow through on his plan of shifting the public’s perception of heroes and what we ask of them. In the novel a giant space kraken appears and it proposes, “Even in a world with superheroes, not even they could save us from something like this.” Whereas in the film, nuclear explosions around the globe present the idea that, “these heroes gifted with all this power won’t always be there when we need them the most.” Veidt uses this as a means to use catastrophic tragedy as a resurrection of American ideals, and the death of the superhero. Creating this idea that superheroes aren’t a backboard, nor should they ever be. We can only look to the sky to solve our problems for so long, and the real villains manipulate our perception of what we believe we need during a specific era. This is noted by the shots of corporate America being rebuilt thanks to the funding of Veidt Enterprises. The stock in Adrian rises, as the stock in superheroes, most notably Dr. Manhattan, plummets. At the end of the day, corporate America capitalized on an opportunity, the empires have completed their rise to power, and the public kneels toward their newly risen kings.
Jon Osterman / Dr. Manhattan
“All we ever see of stars are their old photographs.”
To formulate a sequence of words, sentences, or paragraphs for a character like Dr. Manhattan is undoubtedly the toughest task I’ve taken on as a writer. The rays of blue he emits are as blinding as they are cool. A vivid and titanic avatar for our morality and tether to the world around us that dwarves our search for inner peace and purpose. The birth of Dr. Manhattan is a sequence that does something that most superhero stories can’t, or don’t do, and that’s taking it’s exposition and making it something beautiful to look at, and also something that asks us to derive meaning from its images and dialogue, instead of doing the work for us. Billy Crudup and Alan Moore do tremendous work here, and the dialogue is astronomically well written and performed. However, it’s Philip Glass’ Prophecies and Pruit Igoe from his score for the film Koyaanisqatsi that turns this sequence into something more than anyone could have imagined. It’s a piece of music that perfectly compliments the melancholy, tragedy, romance, and fear of Dr. Manhattan’s origin story into the burning figure of blue matter. Here we begin to understand the thesis of Dr. Manhattan and the burdens of becoming a literal god. He ponders over an old photograph of he and his former romantic partner Janey, recognizing a time when all that made sense was life’s simplest sensations. A touch, a glance, a moment of happiness, a perspiring glass of beer, before becoming something that is unable to find value in life’s finest moments that keep us connected to our reality. For him, the endless corners of knowledge, foresight, and hindsight prove to be a detriment when trying to reconnect with his former humanity. How can he when he is capable of all things, as well as being able to perceive time in the past, present, and future in a single moment?
Similar to Ozymandias, Dr. Manhattan’s screen time may not be as prominent as Dreiberg, Laurie, and Rorschach, but his unexpected self-exile to Mars poses lots of danger for America and the nuclear war they may find themselves in. Dr. Manhattan is America’s deterrent. He was the government’s ace in the hole that secured a victory over Vietnam and Nixon’s unprecedented third term for his embracement of the superhero and how to utilize him where they see fit. This is where the tragedy of Dr. Manhattan really starts to take shape, because make no mistake, there is nothing wonderful about being a pawn on someone else’s board, especially when you can see the strings. This is how Laurie and Jon’s relationship takes form. They both see the strings. The reason why Jon connects with Laurie instantly is because Laurie represents the freedom that he no longer has after he became Dr. Manhattan. She has this youthful release from life and the luxury of choice, with emotions and pieces to fit in Jon’s missing puzzle. These characters are a wonderful compliment to each other, and their crumbling relationship can’t be diluted to simple miscommunication errors. The complexity within Jon is something Laurie is seeking to understand, and how she is able to understand herself through Jon is a part of the process. Jon’s attempt to reconnect with his humanity has a spark with Laurie, but it flickers out because he is a government controlled super weapon. These two mutually share that feeling of being controlled by the government, yet they’re on their own respective paths of detaching those strings. Laurie yearns for a palpable connection through Daniel, and Jon’s distance comes from trying to be the person he was without understanding he no longer can be. They drift apart because they can’t find the catharsis they need within each other. That comes from somewhere else.
Tragedy strikes across the globe and Dr. Manhattan can’t stop millions from dying because he was outsmarted by Ozymandias. We wonder how a living god with the ability to see all phases of time is outwitted by technology. The understanding here is that Dr. Manhattan failed to see Ozymandias’ plan taking shape because of his attempts to rekindle something that is no longer there. His humanity. Jon’s second chance at life was born from technology, and his experience on Earth, throughout various caverns of time thereafter is spent trying to uncover the details that define our humanity in relation to him being a deity. His downfall of being a living deity comes from technology that essentially usurped his power as an all seeing eye. Jon’s story now comes full circle. Jon’s journey with becoming distanced from reality to try and understand his purpose in time comes at the expense of realizing what forges people are their relationships with each other, not with themselves. Ozymandias uses this to his advantage by utilizing humanity’s relationship with technology to his advantage by trumping what Jon lacks. This is Ozymandias showcasing that he has used man’s ability to manipulate technology in their favor to ordain a future that Jon won’t be able to prevent. Jon’s weakness is Ozymandias’ strength, and that is why he wins. He forces Jon to relocate to Mars because he failed millions of people. People he never understood because they don’t understand how miniscule they are within the totality of the universe. Jon’s inability to understand people like he did the watches that he grew up working on is why he fails millions of people, but most importantly, himself.
In its entirety, Watchmen could be boiled down to a story about being tasked with carrying the mantles of oneself through the burdens of humanity. For Jon this weighs even heavier because he only carries the mantle that humanity has bestowed upon him without understanding their burdens. He emits this glowing blue aura of energy that emits a radiance of calm, until that radiance is put into question when he allegedly gave cancer to everyone he ever had a palpable connection with. Until it's revealed that that narrative was manipulated by technology as well. That mantle he carries is crumbling in the same way that we wonder why God allows bad things to happen if you participate in relevant faiths. This apathy birthed from this revelation plunges America into a riot as the Doomsday Clock reaches midnight without their deterrent in sight. Humanity’s own condemnation of Dr. Manhattan through their concerns is what put Jon in a place where he wondered if we were worth saving at all. The people in America have become so reliant on deities (and heroes) anchoring their burdens that they failed to see the technological advancements rising up behind the curtains. Subsequently this is why Jon’s foresight is hazy. He, in his own way, spends his time condemning humanity’s lack of perception in relation to his abilities, and is why he was taken advantage of at his weakest point. Dr. Manhattan’s ghosts of his humanity peek through here for a time. The boy who made watches with his father, grapples with the machinations of time as he reflects on how America created their own downfall; through their fears of the unknown by naming him after a project that was supposed to deliver the ruthlessness of God to their opponents, not themselves. Technology destroyed Jon Osterman, America created Dr. Manhattan, technology defeated Dr. Manhattan and reformed America’s infrastructure. A country no longer driven to understand gods, but to reach deliverance through the promises of technological advancements and how they manipulate our humanity.
We watched the Watchmen, but how did we choose to do it?
All of these characters miraculously relate to one another in some capacity. All of them so uniquely defined, but there is a tragic relation to all of them. They all represent a different part of America’s humanity through sex, art, love, faith, capitalism, narcissism, and pessimism, through Alan Moore’s warping of the American Dream in its actuality. In an era that we’re living through now, I firmly believe that we can all point to a moment in our time that is personified through one of these characters. That is a sign of truly great, timeless storytelling as tragic as it is. What isn’t Watchmen, but an American tragedy? A handful of characters and respective stories searching for their purpose via larger than life relationships in a world being manipulated by capitalistic ventures in favor of hitting the reset button because we’re too far gone. Where do we fit in here? The characters have played their role, but now we have to respond. I don’t have the answers, but I do have a perspective. As we engage with storytelling on this level of trying to understand our participation with it, I figure that the best way to answer “Who Watches the Watchmen?” is less about someone specifically doing this, but why we all do it because of what we want from them. Accountability.
Accountability is something that has seemingly evaded much of the public’s consciousness in a political sense, but what is Watchmen without politics? It is inspired by failed politicians, false promises, hollow truths, and our strange obsession with burdening superheroes with returning the joy that has been stripped from our reality by those very people. I don’t think Alan Moore is a cynical guy, I believe he used superheroes as a way to rip down the curtains in front of America to elevate the significance of how important human relationships are in a world that has abandoned all forms of accountability. The Comedian is someone who took America’s twisted reality and provoked it. He didn’t try and hold anyone accountable. He accepted the reality for what it was and played by its rules in favor of himself and helped destroy the image of America that everyone else was already doing. For Daniel he tried maintaining peace and understanding where he could, but in an America tearing itself apart, there wasn’t a place for him when he was heavily outnumbered. Laurie is a woman living in a man’s world and they use her body to keep close tabs with their nuclear deterrent. Walter’s problems date all the way back to his youth being demolished by the filth that has infiltrated every corner of America. All of Jon withered away when the burdens of the American people buried what fragments of his humanity remained. Ozymandias manipulated all of what makes every one of these characters the most human version of themself (as dark as some of them may be) by provoking the very nature of each of their characters in benefit for his version of the American Dream. Ozymandias realized that ‘heavy is the head who wears the crown’, and all of these people who felt it was in their best interest to mask up to reinvigorate a part of themselves that was taken from them, comes from their existential worries. How their place in this reality is fading from existence without emboldening themselves with recognizable latex or a heroic symbol. Before they know it, they’ll look like everyone else around them without being burdened by the tragedies of them. Their superhero identity will be stripped away, but the humanity that was always behind that mask will remain no matter if it’s fully healed, or splattered across an ice cap in Antarctica.
I’m not saying superheroes can’t be fun as they zoom through the skies and topple a villain of the week, but I think it’s interesting to grapple with the idea that superheroes can’t always be there for us to eliminate the problems that plague us everyday. It starts there and develops into wondering how these avatars for various avenues of humanity can be held accountable for their negligence to the most important part of being human. Our relationships with one another and how we find solace in trying to do the right thing as the human race faces politically manufactured Armageddon.
“Heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor...I am Pagliacci.”
