Alan Moore, the mind behind the beloved, seminal pop-art masterpiece “Watchmen” once famously said that his graphic novel would be impossible to film, and has distanced himself from any attempt to do so.  It appears he may have been right.

There are two methods by which an adaptation must be critiqued, each directly related to the intent of the filmmaker.  If the filmmaker attempts to faithfully recreate the story in a visual medium, altering little or nothing from the original material then we must judge it against its source.  If the filmmaker intends to create a work sturdy enough to exist independently of its source then we must critique is as we would any other film.  Since director Zack Snyder has unfortunately opted for the former we must put the film in context with the original work released by DC Comics in 1986-87.

Acclaimed and adored for its originality, ingenuity, biting satire, and deconstruction of the American superhero, the graphic novel is a commentary–a meditation rather–on political, social, and military power at the height of the Cold War.  It is set in an alternate 1985 in which Richard Nixon, with the help of the God-like Dr. Manhattan, has won the Vietnam War and apparently the presidency indefinitely.  Masked vigilantes, an effect of, and partly to blame for society’s rapid decay, have been ordered off the streets by an act of congress, and nuclear war with the Soviets is imminent.

The novel arcs beautifully offering a groundbreaking, breathtakingly bleak, yet compelling descent into the abyss of humanity’s most primal tendencies.  It did for the comic book what “Seven Samurai” or “Citizen Kane” did for film effectively and powerfully deconstructing well-established social perceptions, innovating structurally, and subtly delivering a timeless and poignant message with expert precision.  Such ambition is not only lacking in the film, but is glaringly absent.

Adaptations will inevitably and forever upset fans of the source material.  That is a given.  But the troubling paradox of this film is that while it makes every effort to transfer the panels of the book to the screen with nauseating exactness it fails miserably in transferring any of the book’s nuance, complexity, subtly, or cleverness; in effect, missing the point entirely. It is dead on the screen–an expensive looking organism without a soul.

Alan Moore’s work uses violence only as a device to underscore the novel’s ultimate condemnation of mankind’s nonsensical hatred and conflict, and aims to tell the truth about it’s terrible social, psychological, and moral effects. The film, on the other hand, indulges in graphic, extemporaneous–even cathartic violence merely to excite and entertain. I can’t think of a more despicable instance of such mind-numbing entertainment. The sad irony is that Zack Snyder has unknowingly contributed to the very social degeneration and moral decay that Moore’s work abhors.

The tagline on the poster reads, “From the Visionary Director that Brought You 300.”  Merely copying an existing work, adding excessive slow-motion, and removing all meaning and soul is decidedly anti-visionary.

This film’s failure is not all Snyder’s fault.  Screenwriters David Hayter and Alex Tse lifted most lines from the novel verbatim; the problem being that while Moore’s dialogue is brilliant, it was never intended for the screen. The resulting film is a muddled amalgam of stories about delusional, ego-maniacal psychopaths in Halloween costumes uncharacteristically spouting off misplaced, throw-away lines of boring pseudo-philosophy.  Such dramatic failures often spell career doom for those involved.  The same will likely be true of those attached to “Watchmen” with only three exceptions: 1. Jackie Earle Haley will come away unscathed thanks to his brilliant turn as Rorschach once his ink blot-shifting mask comes off; 2. Billy Crudup’s career won’t feel so much as a hiccup because he’s virtually unrecognizable beneath the glowing blue CGI; 3. Alan Moore’s prophetic decision to stay a safe distance away from the project will preserve the reverence that surrounds his name.

When the opening credit sequence outshines everything it portends, you have a problem.