Rock of Ages

Director: Adam Shankman
Starring: Julianne Hough, Diego Boneta, Tom Cruise, Russell Brand, Paul Giamatti, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Malin Akerman, Mary J. Blige, Alec Baldwin, Bryan Cranston
Running Time: 123 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ (out of ★★★★)

In the opening scene of Rock of Ages, "small town girl" Sherrie Christian (Julianne Hough) is traveling on a bus to L.A. with a suitcase full of records with big dreams of becoming a famous singer. It's 1987. And you'll never guess which classic 80's power ballad's piano riff start to play. Yes, it's Night Ranger's "Sister Christian." The song, rescued from relative obscurity by director Paul Thomas Anderson in 1997's Boogie Nights, resulting in one of cinema's most memorable musical moments, and making a previously cheesy song all of the sudden seem exceptionally cool. The exact opposite happens in this painful sequence where an entire busload of passengers and their driver awkwardly join Sherrie in a sing-a-long of it that plays like a poor man's version of the Almost Famous "Tiny Dancer" bus scene. And for a few brief minutes we're reminded again why we all thought "Sister Christian" was so corny to begin with and why it should be illegal for it to accompany any scene not involving a coked-out, gun-toting Alfred Molina and firecrackers. I'll probably need about a dozen viewings of that sequence just to cleanse myself of the song's silly cameo in this.  

Of all the problems with this limp effort, that opening scene symbolizes its biggest. The movie isn't just unfunny, poorly paced and performed, but seems to have genuine disdain for its audience and the musical era it's supposedly celebrating. We'd be kidding ourselves by not admitting that the 80's had some awful music ripe for parody, but it's certainly not THIS bad. Maybe it was unintentional, but because the comedy doesn't work and the tone is off, I came away believing those involved in the making of this musical have very little affection for the music. There's even less respect for the plot and characters, both of which exist only as an excuse to cram in as many tunes as possible into a two hour film. There's medley after medley, as "Sister Christian" leads into "Just Like Paradise" and "Nothin' But a Good Time" as Sherrie meets Bourbon Room barkeep Drew Boley (Diego Boneta), also an aspiring singer, who convinces the club's owner Dennis Dupree (a mulleted Alec Baldwin) to hire her as a waitress. With the club deep in debt and its future uncertain, Dupree along with his assistant and eventual lover Lonny (Russell Brand) find a potential solution to their financial woes by enticing aging, hedonistic Arsenal frontman Stacee Jaxx (Tom Cruise) to play at the Bourbon. It's a gig his manager Paul Gill (Paul Giamatti) hopes will ignite his client's fledgling solo career. He also sees potential in Drew, whose rise up the rock ranks causes a major rift between he and Sherrie.

None of these stories work because director Adam Shankman doesn't seem to care if they do, using them only as vehicles for abominable cover songs that bare little resemblance to what's actually happening on screen. But the most inexplicable sub-plot comes in the form of the Mayor's wife leading a religious crusade against the evils of rock, despite the entire music scene and time period being presented as nothing but squeeky clean and G-rated. And you've never seen anything quite like an angry Catherine Zeta-Jones dancing atrociously in a church singing "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" while Bryan Cranston's Mayor Whitmore is tied up and spanked by his mistress, confirming that the wait for those final Breaking Bad episodes just might be more excruciating than we thought. Even the one thing everyone seemed to agree works, Cruise's performance as Stacee Jaxx, strangely didn't connect for me all the way because it's just too obviously inauthentic and calculated. He often comes off as Tom Cruise playing Tom Cruise playing a washed-up rock legend in a storyline that seems more designed as career rejuvenation for the actor rather than the fabricated musician. It's essentially a extended celebrity cameo. When he's interviewed by Malin Akerman's mousy Rolling Stone reporter for what's supposed to be 8 minutes, it feels more like 8 hours because the entire sequence goes nowhere with roundabout questions, awkward silences and mumbling.

Sandwiched in between the never ending interview is Cruise covering Bon Jovi and Foreigner and doing surprisingly okay. His voice doesn't have much character and isn't particularly strong, but he gets the job done just fine. The same could be said for everyone else in the cast, with the obvious exception of Mary J. Blige who clearly the pipes to sing the hell out of these songs and does. It's mostly true that Cruise is the best thing in this, but but there isn't a moment where you're unaware he's giving a performance. Julianne Hough, previously so delightful in last year's Footloose remake, has all the air sucked out of her in this, doing what she can to rescue a thankless character whose voice seems too chirpy to be signing 80's hair metal. As the lead, it's to her credit that she somehow comes out of this unscathed, and maybe also to Diego Boneto, who's so bland and lifeless opposite her that I sometimes forgot he was even in the movie at all. But it was great to see a Tower Records store again, even if they never actually sold guitars. I liked that the filmmakers thought they did.

Musicals aren't supposed to be boring. Worse yet, the 80's music scene was gritty and over-the-top but the film goes out of its way to be anything but, playing it safe and never straying outside the lines. Shankman's right that this material can only be treated as goofy comedy but at many points I was confused as to what we were supposed to find funny, or whether it was unintentional or not. At other even less successful points, it plays like a depressing drama. This had all the ingredients to be successful, but this seems like another case of the stage production being transposed to the screen without the adjustments to make it seem cinematic in any way other than adding movie stars. It doesn't look or feel like the 80's and the streets don't even look like streets, but sets. In this way it resembles the almost equally unsuccessful adaptation of Rent, which was at least somewhat saved by an engaging (if dated) story to fall back on.

In the best musicals, the music informs and mirrors the script, almost as if it's organically sprung from it. This is just song after song after song with no breathing room for the story or characters. If there's a silver lining it's that it's easy envisioning Rock of Ages evolving into some kind of cult guilty pleasure like Xanadu or Grease 2 with moviegoers at midnight showings dressed in 80's clothes and throwing things at the screen. It has that same fascinatingly awful quality and evokes a "What Did I Just Watch?" reaction that kind of makes you want to experience it again just to confirm the ridiculousness. If only it were more fun. That I could still easily re-watch it may reveal more about my affinity for the era and its music than anything else. But at least that's something. Audiences probably wanted to love this too, but the movie just seems too embarrassed with itself and the music to truly let them in.

Wanderlust

Director: David Wain
Starring: Paul Rudd, Jennifer Aniston, Justin Theroux, Alan Alda, Malin Akerman, Lauren Ambrose, Jo Lo Truglio, Kathryn Hahn, Ken Marino, Michaela Watkins
Running Time: 98 min.
Rating: R

★★ (out of ★★★★)

Watching Wanderlust I was overcome with the strange feeling I've seen it before. Comedies with the name "Judd Apatow" stamped on it, either as writer, director or producer are pretty common these days. They've also become interchangeable, following a  safe, standard formula without ever flying too far off the rails. Lessons learned, man-child grows up, couple grows closer blah blah blah. This time, despite only getting a producing credit, his recipe is still there. Wanderlust adheres strictly to it but what makes its execution especially disappointing this time around is that writer/director David Wain and actor/co-writer Ken Marino are capable of so much more. MTV's The State, Wet Hot American Summer and most recently the hilarious Childrens Hospital on Adult Swim, have proven it. At this point they're masterminds in their genre who should be making a movie that makes fun of this movie, so it's no coincidence this one's best moments come when they do just that.  If it's okay with you I'm just going to pretend that everything that did work is due to them and what doesn't can be attributed to Apatow dragging them into his office, pointing a gun to their heads and screaming, Didn't you see Knocked Up, Funny People and Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Get Him To The Greek and Bridesmaids? We're doing this MY way. We're gonna make MONEY!" It probably didn't go down exactly like that but that imagining such a scene is funnier than many of the uninspired events that transpire in this film isn't encouraging.

Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston co-star as married couple George and Linda, who end up having to sell their recently purchased "micro-loft" apartment in New York City due to George losing his job and Linda's documentary ("An Inconvenient Truth meets March of the Penguins") being passed on by HBO. The scene of Linda's presentation to the cable executives is an example of one of the little comedic asides that  work. It's always the random, seemingly throwaway stuff that creates the most laughs, which is typical of Wain's writing. That's also true of their detour to stay with George's arrogant brother Rick (Marino) and his wife Marisa (SNL castoff Michaela Watkins). Rick is such a jerk and his scenes so squirm-inducing I'm convinced only Marino, the most underrated comic actor around, could have made this funny instead of mean-spirited and ill-placed. Things settle into a more familiar (and somewhat disappointing) groove when George and Linda arrive at a hippie commune called Elysium, which is run by the free-spirited Seth (Justin Theroux). The other inhabitants include his girlfriend Eva (Malin Akerman), nudist Wayne Davidson (Jo Lo Truglio) and its cranky owner Carver (Alan Alda). Almost immediately, the uptight, sarcastic George has problems fitting in while the flakier, more open-minded Linda forms a close bond with Seth, endearing herself to the residents of Elysium. What's supposed to be a break from the stresses of everyday life soon threatens to tear their marriage apart.

Theroux's character and performance is easily the most humorous aspect of the movie, especially his obsession on abandoning what he thinks passes for modern technology (faxes, floppy discs, VCR's, 2-way pagers). It's the by far the funniest running gag, made that much funnier by the Theroux's oblivious delivery of it. There's also a sub-plot involving a local news team that gets some laughs, as does the use of hallucinogens and the complications of George and Linda's newly "open" marriage. The more obvious stuff, like Jo Lo Truglio's nudity and evil developers plotting to build a casino on the land, doesn't. That this feels like the seventh time comedy regulars Rudd and Aniston have have been paired together when it's actually the second (I think) is indicative of a larger problem. Rudd's talented enough to be headlining in any genre but seems stuck playing the sad sack husband in every other comedy released every year. He's likable as always, but deserves better, or maybe at least something that's radically different. An entire book could probably be written on the stops and false starts in Aniston's career-long quest to become a full-fledged "movie star," and this role's a great example of why that title still eludes her. After a strong, against type comedic turn in Horrible Bosses, she's back to playing the same, tired Aniston part of either the girl-next-door or bland wife. This time she's actually both so it's back to business as usual for her. But none of the actors are really to blame. You could have plugged anyone into the roles and the result would have been the same, if not a little worse, since these two at least know their way around the material.

David Wain is incapable of making a movie that's completely bad, but this must be the closest he's come. The most frustrating aspect is that many of the jokes work, but they're at the mercy of a story structure we're all too familiar with. It probably would have worked better if it had literally no story at all. Maybe just a series of random, sketch related vignettes or segments stretched out to 90 minutes about life on the commune. It's amazing how many little, random details are funny, but are squeezed into a story that's too safe and predictable. It's R rating can be attributed to nudity and little else. Considering the talent involved, Wanderlust should be much better than it is. Not to mention crazier. Everyone involved should probably take it as a  compliment that expectations were high enough for this to be classified as a genuine disappointment.

The Proposal

Director: Anne Fletcher
Starring: Sandra Bullock, Ryan Reynolds, Malin Akerman, Mary Steenburgen, Craig T. Nelson, Betty White, Oscar Nunez, Aasif Mandvi
Running Time: 108 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

The Proposal is harmless fluff you wouldn't lose any sleep over skipping, but if you happened to catch it, you wouldn't be completely wasting your time. You'd only be partially wasting your time. But life is short and there are tons of great movies out there, so the latter option seems less inviting the more you consider it. There were only two tasks this film needs to carry out well to succeed and it really nailed one of them. Unfortunately, it was the least important of the two. The important one it fumbles badly. In creating a reasonably believable workplace situation and even selling a really absurd scenario it excels, but in depicting an actual romance and getting us to care what happens to the characters supposedly involved in it, the movie is a failure. That failure is most glaring in its crazy final act, where they try to cram all the emotional legwork that should have been laid out earlier into the last 15 minutes.

While the two leads are sufficient and at least one of them is likable, they lack romantic chemistry, which isn't a problem easily corrected by crazy screenwriting hijinx. I've accepted the golden rule in romantic comedies that two characters who hate each other are supposed to fall in love and realize there's no use even complaining about it anymore. I only ask that it occurs believably (at least by dumb rom-com standards) and they eventually seem right for one another. That never happens here so considering the entire story rests it, the film falls short. On the bright side, it does still have its moments, even if nearly all of them are supplied not by the two stars, but 87-year-old Golden Girls actress Betty White.

Magaret Tate (Sandra Bullock) is the demanding and driven editor-in-chief of the Boston-based publishing company, Colden Books. Her loyal assistant, aspiring editor Andrew Paxton (Ryan Reynolds) hates her guts, as does everyone else who works in the office. Realizing she's his only meal ticket to the top of the publishing world, Andrew puts up with her often bitchy behavior, which to the script and Bullock's credit, never really crosses an unreasonable line. That's a smart decision that ends up saving the movie from being much more dreadful than it would have otherwise been. The big problem arises when Margaret fails to file the necessary paperwork to obtain her green card and she's threatened with deportation to Canada unless she can come up with a scheme fast. That scheme involves blackmailing Andrew to become engaged to her and trying to dupe the very suspicious government representative (Denis O' Hare) ready to interrogate them on their relationship. With only one weekend to learn everything about each other before the big interview, they fly to Andrew's parents' (Mary Steenburgen and Craig T. Nelson) house in Sitka, Alaska for his grandmother's (Betty White) 80th birthday celebration.

This small town in Alaska would be better referred to as "MOVIELAND U.S.A." It's one of those quirky places found only in romantic comedies, but rarely in real life where kooky townsfolk reside and involve themselves in bizarre traditions that add to the local flavor. When Margaret begrudgingly arrives we watch her struggle with her luggage for a half hour before coming to terms with the family dog, participating in quirky family rituals and going to the local strip club. Through it all, we discover (not too surprisingly) that Margaret is a lonely woman who's thrown herself into her career because she has no family or man in her life, as if those are the only acceptable reasons a woman would have for doing such a hideous thing. Her blackmailing plan may be taking an unexpected detour when she starts to feel something not only for this family, but Andrew. If you've seen the posters or DVD cover, you know where this is going, but what's surprising is how clumsily it gets there.

It would be opportune to talk about the chemistry between Bullock and Reynolds...if there was any. Well, at least there's chemistry of a professional kind because the two are believable as employer and employee which is refreshing given how often workplace scenes are botched in movies like this. I appreciated that Peter Chiarelli's screenplay didn't cave in to idiocy and present Margaret as a cartoonish caricature along the lines of Meryl Streep's Miranda Priestley in The Devil Wears Prada. Someone could watch this and probably recall bosses they had who were far worse than Margaret and Bullock wisely plays her as a demanding, successful woman who behaves like this because she feels she has something to prove. You could see how she could possibly have the respect of the office and not just merely their fear and disdain. The character isn't doing this for evil thrills, which would have cheapened the entire story. Bullock is really great in these early scenes and so is Reynolds, playing the only assistant I've seen in a comedy who's actually excellent at his job.

It's unfortunate that the qualities that make Margaret a believable boss of a major company are exactly the same ones that make her blossoming relationship with Andrew ring false. Margaret does still come across as a total bitch and Bullock isn't the kind of actress capable of selling the miraculous transformation this script calls for. And while I commend the movie for going against the grain in casting an older woman opposite a younger man, and am impressed Bullock hasn't gone under the surgeon's scalpel to get roles, she just looks too old for him. That wouldn't be distracting if the character of Margaret had a youthful energy about her but she doesn't at all. She's a depressed grouch. So the film unintentionally distorts the story into one of a likable guy in the prime of a his life being blackmailed by his older, boring boss. Even in rare moments when the chemistry is there they never seem to be more than buddies and Reynolds (who I normally like) almost seems impossibly likable, to the point of blandness. The leads aren't necessarily the problem, although both have delivered far better performances in the past. A couple of the supporting players fair worse.

As Andrew's father, Craig T. Nelson accidentally stumbled in from the set of a dark family tragedy, misinterpreting the disapproving dad as a verbally abusive alcoholic that would be better received in a sequel to Affliction than a romantic comedy. It's completely inappropriate for the lighter tone of the material, hitting a dark, sour note. A sub-plot is introduced involving Andrew's ex-girlfriend, "Gertie" (a totally wasted Malin Akerman) that doesn't go anywhere even though all signs indicate that it should. During the long wait for the story to reach its predestined conclusion I did laugh a few times. Betty White really seems to be the only performer who realizes exactly what kind of movie she's in and her reactions to the absurdity around her, as well as her comic timing, are right on the mark. What's funniest is that as an airhead she seems smarter than just about every other character. A running gag involving a local resident (Oscar Nunez) who seems to hold all the jobs in town, is admittedly ridiculous, but funny for what it is.

The ending of this film is such a mess I'm not sure I could explain it if I tried and the execution is so sloppy that I actually had problems figuring out what was even happening in the last 15 minutes. Due to the lack of chemistry and poor writing it's unclear whether Andrew has any feelings for Margaret, and an even bigger question whether they're reciprocal, which makes an already contrived ending seem like it's completely out of left field. There isn't so much as a tiny spark between them the entire picture so both actors have to work extra hard in the final act to sell a bunch of nonsense. That's never clearer than in the predictably cringe worthy final scene. I actually found myself rooting against the couple getting together at points because they seem so mismatched. That's not exactly the reaction you hope to have watching a romantic comedy.

This did reasonably well at the box office and I can actually see why. It's a fun time if you're willing to shut your brain off and enjoy it for what it is. Not much work is usually required for me to shut my brain off, but the absurdities in this screenplay, exacerbated by two leads who don't click romantically, prevented this from being something even I could rally behind. In many ways it's very emblematic of the troubled territory Bullock finds herself in as an actress. She's past the point in her career where she can continue to take the kinds of parts she did in the '90's but it isn't enjoyable seeing her playing bitchy characters either. She's too likable for that. Her residual name value and the likability quotient of Reynolds was enough to get audiences to see it, but The Proposal turns a dumb premise that could have been fun into something far dumber than it needs to be.

Watchmen

Director: Zack Snyder
Starring: Patrick Wilson, Jackie Earle Haley, Malin Akerman, Billy Crudup, Matthew Goode, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Carla Gugino
Running Time: 162 min.
Rating: R

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

For months I've been kidding people that I planned on reading Alan Moore's seminal 1986 graphic novel, "Watchmen" before viewing the film. I say kidding because anyone who knows me knew I had no plans to do such a thing. I never read the book BEFORE seeing the film on which its based, wanting to always go in completely fresh. It's a policy I'd implement even if I weren't reviewing movies and one that's always seemed to work well, so there's little reason to change it. The last thing I want to to do is turn into one of those whiners who complain that "the book was better." And when you consider just how many movies I see and how many of them are based on novels, it's safe to assume that my perception and possible enjoyment of these films would be substantially altered (if not ruined) by reading the books they're adapted from.

I've never been more pleased with this policy than after seeing Zack Snyder's take on Watchmen, especially given all the controversy its adaptation has caused. This supposedly sacred text, long considered "the Citizen Kane of comics," has always been labeled more or less unfilmable and when the shocking news broke that it would be attempted, irate fanboys were up in arms. So isn't it ironic that Snyder went out and made a movie that would only appeal to those who thought it shouldn't have been made? Then it's released and he's publicly dragged through the mud for being too slavishly true to the source material. Poor guy can't win. Having not read it I can't comment on how true it is to the novel (though I've heard it's VERY) but it does play like an insane amount of effort was put into capturing the look and visuals, even if deep ideas don't always come along for the ride.

In its over two and a half hour theatrical version it's a sprawling, sometimes brilliant mess as frustrating as it is unforgettable, without making the slightest effort to be accessible to casual viewers unfamiliar with the novel. And that's the double-edged sword of a "faithful" adaptation. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Yet in spite of all its attempts to alienate me I strangely became absorbed in it all anyway. For what its worth, the film drips in stylistic cool, is unmatched in visuals and production design and earns its R rating. None of this is a surprise considering it comes from the director of 300, who isn't exactly known for his subtlety.

There are definitely glimpses of a masterpiece in here and for the first 10 minutes it sure seems destined to be one. But there's still this nagging feeling (made much more evident in the director's cut than the theatrical one) that something more emotionally resonant could have been unearthed with tighter, more focused direction. Even someone completely unaware of the source could tell this was a very tough work to translate to the screen and Snyder deserves credit for at least having the guts to try, as divisive as the results may have been.

The film opens in an alternate 1985 where Richard Nixon is serving his fifth term as President and the threat of war with the Soviet Union is a very likely possibility as the "Doomsday Clock" counts down toward Armageddon. We're introduced to a group of superhero vigilantes known as the Watchmen who have been outlawed by Nixon since 1977, their costumes retired and identities kept under wraps. Only two still remain under government employ: Dr. Manhattan (Billy Crudup), formerly scientist Tom Osterman, created as a result of a nuclear accident and possessing the power to control the universe. And the brash Edward Blake/the Comedian (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) whose gruesome murder in the film's opening scene sets the plot's wheels in motion.

The exiled, ink blot masked Rorschach (a brilliant Jackie Earle Haley) suspects foul play and recruits the very reluctant Dan Dreiberg/Nite Owl (Patrick Wilson) back into action. Joining them is Dr. Manhattan's assistant and girlfriend, Laurie Jupiter/Silk Spectre II (Malin Akerman), who faces the thankless challenge of living up to the legacy of her superhero mother, the original Silk Spectre (Carla Gugino in retro pinup mode). The final member to again suit up is Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias, the "smartest man in the world," who revealed his identity to the public, using his name to make billions funding scientific research. Rorschach is determined to uncover what he believes is not only a massive conspiracy to wipe out the group, but something with more disastrous results for the entire human race.

It was inevitable that with the success of The Dark Knight we'd be seeing darker superhero films and it's a credit to Snyder's direction that as messy as this is it doesn't suffer as badly as you'd expect in direct comparison to Nolan's film. A lot of that could probably be chalked up to the fact that Moore's story (or however much of it survived in David Hayter's script) is just so bizarre and original that it's forced to be judged on its own terms. Like The Dark Knight it asks the intriguing question of what would happen if superheroes really existed. What would they look like? What would they do? How would they affect society? But unlike Nolan's film, the tone sometimes comes across as campy, while still finding a way to entrench itself in a kind of pseudo self-seriousness. What really needs to be said about a film that features a ship ejaculating? Snyder really struggles to effectively balance this tone from time to time because the material is just so challenging and he isn't quite there as a filmmaker yet. But he's close.

The big ideas that are present are front and center in the opening minutes of the film with one of the best title sequences I've ever seen. Unforgettably set to Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A Changin," the sequence somehow manages to be both movingly poignant and hilarious as the Watchmen and their superhero forebearers, the Minutemen, are shown via fake newsreel footage shaping the events of this alternate history. Give the studio credit for biting the bullet to pay for the use of the entire song. A fortune for sure, but worth every penny. It marks the first of many classic rock songs on Snyder's playlist (which also includes Hendrix, Simon & Garfunkel and Leonard Cohen) that will sometimes distractingly invade upon the picture at the strangest of times. At least he has good taste. Unfortunately, this groundbreaking opening sequence also sets up unrealistic expectations for what follows.

The film's structure is muddled and sometimes confusing, jumping back and forth between Rorschach's murder mystery investigation and attempts to draw the Watchmen out of retirement as we're given flashbacks and all their backstories. The device feels like something that could have been directly lifted from the novel and if it isn't I'll stand corrected. Through these flashbacks, some substantially more involving than others, we learn that they're less superheroes than deeply flawed, psychologically damaged people who wear costumes and are working through some major issues.

None except maybe two could even be considered the slightest bit likable with the worst of all being the film's victim, the cynical Comedian, a depraved rapist and murderer whose bleak outlook on the world isn't completely unlike Ledger's Joker. In his view, society created him and will have to live with the consequences. What little sympathy we initially felt upon his demise is quickly wiped away after we actually get to know the guy. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is terrifying and funny in a role that's larger in importance than screen time. While the characters are unsympathetic and difficult to like I did care what happened to them, and much of that can be chalked up to the other strong performances, one of which is possibly award worthy.

Jackie Earle Haley should give his agent a raise for having this be the big role to follow his Oscar nominated comeback in Little Children from a couple of years ago. Under the mask he's effectively scary as Rorschach but it's toward the middle section of the film when he's locked up and it's taken off, exposing Walter Kovacs, that we're given insight into the sociopath who wore it. And that's when the brilliant ferocity of Haley's performance as really takes over in string of memorable scenes. Billy Crudup, best known for playing a "Golden God" in another film is a blue one here and aided by some great CGI brings a unique calmness and low-key tranquility to Dr. Manhattan, who's essentially a prisoner of his own powers and we maybe see more of than we'd like. The most intriguing flashbacks of the film are to his life before the accident.

A nearly unrecognizable Malin Akerman has been cited by many as the weak link as Silk Spectre II and while she's unproven as an actress and this part was probably more than she was ready for, I thought she fared as well as could be expected. Those claiming she's so dreadful probably all read the novel and carry delusions of grandeur in terms of what they think the character should have been. Although it is kind of funny to think that the actress whose most notable work until now was in the awful Farrelly Brothers comedy The Heartbreak Kid beat out all others to land such an iconic role. But it fits, possibly because I haven't read the novel I have problems picturing another actress bringing more to the part (or the costume for that matter).

The relationship between her character and Patrick Wilson's Nite Owl is handled well with the always reliable, underrated Wilson proving once again that he's pretty much capable of anything, this time playing a paunchy, out shape dork afraid to come out of superhero retirement. It kind of reminded me how Clark Kent should be played, if he was to be played again. He's both literally and figuratively impotent with Dan being nothing until he puts on that costume. Wilson portrays that reluctant transformation perfectly.

On the flip side, Matthew Goode projects very little in the way of charisma or intelligence as Ozmandias in the film's flattest performance. He just has no presence at all in a role that seems to have been written especially to convey that. It's the one part that feels like it was miscast and should have been filled with a bigger star capable of coming across as a larger than life personality. It starts to become an even bigger issue for obvious reasons toward the third act of the picture, resulting in an ending that comes across messier than it should. This, and an embarrassing caricature of Richard Nixon (realizing our worst fears of how stupidly he could be portrayed onscreen) are the two biggest faults of the film.

Snyder would have just been better off not showing the Nixon character or shooting the actor from behind since his physical presence is inconsequential to the story anyway. Actor Robert Wisden is less to blame than all the latex he's buried under which makes you wonder why they just didn't put a Nixon Halloween mask over his head and call it a day. Where's Frank Langella when you need him? But the funniest thing about this unintentionally hilarious depiction of Nixon is that it does somehow strangely fit the bizarre tone of the film.

When Watchmen ended I had no idea what I thought of it, which isn't rare for me. Usually when something like that occurs a second viewing is required. Except that second look came in the form of the over 3 hour director's cut which makes for a great point of comparison or a terrible one, depending on your perspective. I'm leaning toward the latter. Unaware of its gargantuan running time beforehand I was hoping this version would not only clear up questions I had about the narrative, but also enhance the overall experience as many director's cuts have done in the past. Instead it accomplished the exact opposite, diminishing much of the film's power.

Usually, I have nothing against director's cuts (my all-time favorite film is one) but there's just no restraint shown at all here. The seemingly minor flaws in the theatrical version are magnified and a story that didn't have the tightest focus to begin with became much more muddled with useless, excess breathing room. The additional 24 minutes ADD NOTHING. But beyond that, they actually take away from what was already there by piling on scenes that would only interest someone deeply familiar with the source material. In other words, drooling fanboys and no one else. Did I really need to see Hollis Mason's death? Of course not. It's a total waste of time. Those who read the novel are probably gasping at that statement but that's exactly the point: You read the novel. Many others didn't and a movie has to be made for them also.

While the theatrical cut finds a good balance in appealing to fans and newbies alike the extended version flies off the rails with self-indulgence, feeling like it was storyboarded to death to cram every little detail in. We get more of bizarro Nixon and a bigger dose of Rorschach than is necessary, especially in regards to his sometimes over-explanatory voice-over narration. The decision to use that in any version is a questionable call, but it seems worse in the director's cut, recalling that infamous Blade Runner voice-over debacle. Scenes that were wisely cut short initially extend well past their saturation point, which sometimes makes for a trying viewing experience.

NO MOTION PICTURE SHOULD BE 186 MINUTES LONG. It's cruel and unusual punishment, regardless of how dense the material it was adapted from is. It reeks of bloated egotism on the part of the director. And I'll think twice now before siding with a filmmaker who complains he wasn't allowed to "fully realize" his vision...IN OVER TWO AND A HALF HOURS! It's great to want to please fans of the novel and do the story justice but sometimes less should be more. Instead of locking Snyder and his over 3 hour cut in a cell and throwing away the key, Warner Bros. stupidly gave in to his con job by actually giving this unnecessary version a limited theatrical release earlier in the year. I've yet to revisit the original version since but after viewing the director's cut but it'll be interesting to see how it plays now.

Watchmen's release was accompanied with the tagline: "FROM THE VISIONARY DIRECTOR OF 300." That effort was disposable war porn but here Snyder comes one step closer to earning that "visionary" label. Nothing about this is forgettable or lacks vision, despite carrying that similar "style over substance" vibe. Luckily for Snyder I'm reviewing the FAR SUPERIOR theatrical cut which is only fair considering that's how it was released. And if you think I've talked about both just to avoid forming a solid conclusive opinion on the film, you're completely right. But I do know I'd see it again in a heartbeat and can't stop pondering the story or the characters, making me believe this could be one of those times where those telling me "the book is better" may be right.

Alan Moore took his name off the film just as he did V For Vendetta before it and you can't blame him. It's his baby and he has every reason to be protective. But after that, there's nothing he can do to control our reactions to it. I didn't even read the novel and can tell this makes for a fascinating study on adaptation and how hard it is to please everyone, even if you've stayed as true as possible to the source as possible. That Watchmen leads to conversations and analysis like that is the highest compliment it can get and proves why every work, regardless of stature, should be fair game for cinematic interpretation. Just don't expect me to read the book first.