(This beast began as the post I promised last week. Now that I’ve played hooky all my points about the uniqueness of Watchmen‘s narrative mode seem more salient in light of their absence from the film. So I decided to fold my review into the half-composed post. But for the record I still never get around to discussing my larger theory of Manhattan as readerly proxy.)
Some books teach you how to read them: Ulysses, Gravity’s Rainbow, JR, and Infinite Jest spring first to mind. From a purely formal perspective Watchmen belongs in their company. It does to the conventions of comic narrative what Joyce did to realism, Pynchon did to pulp, Gaddis did to dialogue and Foster Wallace did to sentiment. All the techniques discussed in the following had been used in comics before—there is nothing new under the oxen of the sun—but never in the service of creating a new breed of reader. Consider the following sequence of panels from the funeral of the Comedian:
The first three panels transition moment-to-moment. Such transitions slow down the action by forcing the reader to observe actions divided into their constiuent parts. They typically depict a realization on the part of the character which the author wants the reader to linger over (for example) or a demonstration of how fast or powerful someone is. But the “action” that Moore slices into its constiuent parts consists of “listening while standing still.”
For a hack like Mark Millar the amount of dialogue squeezed into the slow zoom of those panels would stretch credulity. But Moore is no Millar. (How better to compel readers to pay attention to a face than four consecutive panels that zoom in on it?) Moore wants the reader to focus his attention on the expression Ozymandias wears and the pat content of the eulogy. The payoff of the latter is dialogue-driven and immediate; the former, however, pays off in a way only comics can. When the moment-to-moment transitions give way to the scene-to-scene transitions in the third and fourth panels the change in Ozymandias’s expression is as subtle as it is important:
As the scene moves from the present to the past the vacant expression Ozymandias wears in the third panel gives way to weariness in the fourth. Pay attention to the eyes: somehow neither the mask nor the adhesive with which he glued it to his face can hide the bags beneath his eyes in the fourth panel. The moment observed by the steely eyes in the third panel brims with resignation and despair . . . and yet those eyes reveal nothing but cold resolve. Whatever flashback the reader witnesses will involve some sort of transformation from the man in the fourth panel into the man in third. Ozymandias later confirms this suspicion:
That meeting catalyzed Ozymandias. It changed him into the man who could do what he eventually did. While serving witness to the burial of a brutal man, Ozymandias remembers the moment he realized his ends were incommensurate with his means. And though he recalls his despair in the fourth panel with resolve in the third, remembering the moment in which he decides what he must do brings him no joy:
The scene-to-scene transition out of the flashback is a mirror image of the one that brought us in. The memory of the moment he sternly turned to genocide causes a swell of unwanted emotion and his mask cracks. Seems like juxtaposing the magnitude of the scheme he set in motion and the hardening of heart required to do so saddened him. His eyes soften once deprived of the contrast the regal purple of his mask provided. Devoid of the flushed conviction that drove him to this moment, the corners of his lips turn down. The past is the past and cannot be undone. Unless you happen to be Dr. Manhattan—about whom more momentarily. Now to the film.
Zack Snyder’s dogged dedication to the panel makes those moments in which his film deviates from the book all the more apparent. My first (and minor) complaint is that he shoehorned the Twin Towers (formerly located in Lower Manhattan) into what had been in the novel a shot of the Chrysler Building in Midtown Manhattan:
Enlarge if you can’t see the Twin Towers to the right of the priest’s umbrella. I’m not such a stickler for fidelity as to be annoyed by the fact that Snyder buries the Comedian in Jersey City instead of Weehawkin or Hoboken. (The establishing shot puts the Midtown skyline on the left side of the screen, so we must be looking at Manhattan Island from New Jersey instead of Brooklyn.) But I am bothered by the fact that Snyder moves the Twin Towers in order to keep them in-frame both in the establishing shot and the long-shot of the priest approaching the grave. This undue attention to the Towers continues throughout the film. When Dan Dreiberg first arrives at Adrian Veidt’s office, the Towers are clearly visible through the window. One of the ubiquitous Veidt Industries blimps creeps from the left side of the screen to the right and is seemingly aimed directly at the Twin Towers. (Avoiding even the appearance of a collision is likely the reason for the second continuity error listed here.) If Snyder had done something meaningful with 1 and 2 World Trade Center that would be one thing. Sticking them in as many shots as possible is little more than an undignified grasp at an unearned gravitas.
My second (and more significant) complaint is that for all his literalism, Snyder completely punts the unique formal elements I discussed above. All the transitions that distinguish Watchmen from its lessers are gone. For example, during the funeral he cuts from a close-up of Ozymandias (shot straight-on) to the flashback of the inaugural (and only) meeting of the Crimebusters from the Comedian’s perspective. That they are now called the Watchmen and helmed by Ozymandias instead of Captain Metropolis matters less than the fact that Snyder chucked the original transitions (which focused on mourners engaged in acts of remembrance) in favor of transitions that focused on what the Comedian did.
Why is this significant? Because it demonstrates that Snyder never grappled with his source material in formal or structural terms. The narrative techniques that contributed to his own sense of the book’s significance went unrecognized; in their place is the kind of fanboy literalism that compels people to write open letters to Peter Jackson accusing him of assaulting Tolkien. Snyder recognized the genius of Watchmen but never learned where it originated. As Dana noted, the narrative itself is as inherently compelling as a novel about a man who spends the day trying not to think about the affair his wife is having. Put differently:
The experience of viewing Watchmen resembles what it would be like to watch an adaptation of The Bloomsday Book.
(Note: I chose to air these complaints because I haven’t seen them out there yet. I could’ve complained, for example, about the pornographic violence and listless pornography. Who charges fight scenes with erotic energy but shoots sex scenes as if they were moving diagrams of a V8 engine? That would be Zack Snyder. I have many more complaints of this sort, but as you’ve already read variations of them elsewhere, I see no need to pile on.)
87 comments
March 10, 2009 at 8:57 pm
Josh
Sweet Jesus, are you serious? A freaking zoom was groundbreaking in comic books? In 1986?
March 10, 2009 at 9:11 pm
Josh
And what is this bit about “the former, however, pays off in a way only comics can”? How could you not get exactly the same effect in film or TV?
March 10, 2009 at 9:20 pm
Vance
The change in expression is subtle to negligible (about like the Kuleshov effect, I think). What I notice in the last frame is that Gibbons has made the face slightly more superhero: no more mussed hair or corrugated brow, and the jaw slightly stretched downward, with a steeper V.
March 10, 2009 at 9:24 pm
Josh
Huh. I had to look up the Kuleshov effect on Wikipedia before I had any clue what that clip was supposed to be demonstrating; Mozzhukhin’s face looked identical to me each time.
March 10, 2009 at 9:26 pm
Vance
Yeah, I think montage no longer works the way it did at the dawn of film. In Scott’s example, it’s the text/story shading the bland features of Veidt.
March 10, 2009 at 9:26 pm
Vance
(that is, not montage; but a contagion like what Kuleshov demonstrated)
March 10, 2009 at 9:38 pm
Urk
Because it’s not the same effect? Because you can move backwards and forwards through the temporal dimensions of the narrative more freely without getting de-centered from where you are in the ongoing story line? Because you have to fill in the gaps between representative frames yourself and therefore have to decide while your reading it how much difference in space/time there is between any given one panel and the next, which is something that a smart artist/writer can manipulate? Because at any given point you are looking both from one panel to the next and at the layout of the whole page or even at a subset of the panels on the page, and/or moving back and forth between any of these views, each of which can and should be accounted for, as for instance in the way Jaime Hernandez or Jack Kirby, just to pluck names off the top of my head, composes pages? Because you’re reading the words instead of hearing them?
But yeah, the panelized equivalent of a long, slow zoom in on someone who isn’t performing any visually significant action isn’t something that that the visual economy of comic book storytelling has exhibited much use for. I understand though that that kind of device might be more often used in other mediums, that are you know, other mediums.
March 10, 2009 at 9:45 pm
Kurt Montandon
Uh, the Twin Towers might simply have been an emphasis on the fact that the movie takes place in the 80s, rather than pretense on the part of the director.
Sometimes a cigar, etc. …
March 10, 2009 at 9:47 pm
Josh
Because you can move backwards and forwards through the temporal dimensions of the narrative more freely without getting de-centered from where you are in the ongoing story line?
Honestly, I don’t understand what this means.
Because you have to fill in the gaps between representative frames yourself and therefore have to decide while your reading it how much difference in space/time there is between any given one panel and the next, which is something that a smart artist/writer can manipulate?
Same thing in movies and TV. The example that jumps out to me is from a late-second-season episode of Mad Men; there was one scene in particular (Jon Hamm’s character talking to the hot rodders, if you’ve watched the show) that left a lot of people confused about when in time exactly the action was supposed to have happened.
I understand though that that kind of device might be more often used in other mediums, that are you know, other mediums.
Meh. A visual medium is a visual medium; there’s nothing special about comics that makes zooming particularly unsuited to them. And it’s surprising to me (although maybe it shouldn’t be) that comic artists hadn’t picked up on such a basic technique for so long.
March 10, 2009 at 10:05 pm
grackle
And it’s surprising to me (although maybe it shouldn’t be) that comic artists hadn’t picked up on such a basic technique for so long. I may be wrong, but it I seem to recall most of these devices in the Marvel comics of the late ’60’s.
March 10, 2009 at 10:43 pm
Uncommon Priors » Is Scott Eric Kaufman* always this insufferable? Are all lit-bloggers?
[…] second post in SEK’s Watchmen series starts with one of the most ludicrous tape measure remarks** I’ve ever seen. I’ll […]
March 10, 2009 at 10:45 pm
Vance
And to follow up on the title of the post, rather than its content: I also enjoyed how the unwatchable film became an unreadable novel (via) (of course).
March 10, 2009 at 11:21 pm
Urk
“Because you can move backwards…”– that was my pretentious way of saying that, because the page sits there in front of you can glance forward and backward from the point in the narrative that you’re reading and compare minor and major changes and details. You can look back and forth over the ways that his expression changes in those panels without losing the ongoing narrative tension, because the panels sit ans wait for you in a way that film frames don’t. Or at least that’s my comparative experience. Sure, you can run your DVD backwards and forwards and repeat scenes, but it’s more awkward and, for me at least, changes the experience of watching the film. You can also stop every few words in a book and ruminate on how the individual sentences or words do or don’t hang together, but you’re alot less likely to keep track of the story In comic reading that same kind of movement, on a tiny scale, is often part of the experience and instead of interfering with the experienc eof narrative tension, is an expectble part fo the process of ingesting the narrative. Maybe I’m the only one who does this? I don’t think so tho.
I love Mad Men, tho I missed alot of season two for various readings. Trying to catch up now because the reruns are on after the toddler goes to bed. So i don’t remember that scene, but I know they do alot of smart things in the storytelling in that show. But it’s a different medium: it’s experienced differently even tho there are obvious analogues. I didn’t meant to suggest that films didn’t do similar things, or cause similar effects, but that ongoing uncertainty-and-confirmation is less necessarily part of the film commercial experience whereas it’s a tiny but ubiquitous part of comic reading.
I really don’t understand the idea that “a visual medium is a visual medium.” comics, movies, books, laser light shows,–all different. the realities of how comics are read, and the economics of what kinds of stories were told and how much space there was to tell them made certain treatments of certain actions less likely to be useful and therefore less likely to be employed. A zoom into a subject _not doing anything visually compelling per se_* might be a “basic technique” in film but it isn’t basic to comics because it wasn’t fundamental to the kinds of stories historically told or particularly efficient in the telling of those stories. Using differently shaped and sized and arranged panels as part of a full page composition is basic to comic book storytelling, but there isn’t an analogue to that that that i can even think of that’s commonplace in film. and that doesn’t make comics special, it just means they’re different.
*it’s not the zoom itself that he’s saying is atypical of comic storytelling, its what action is “zoomed in on” or, in SEK’s language, which more accurately describes what we see if we look at the page instead of pretend we’re watching a film, “the “action” that Moore slices into its constituent parts.” It’s the action, (or lack thereof) not the slicing, that’s atypical of commercial comic book storytelling.
March 10, 2009 at 11:25 pm
Sifu Tweety
This is super fun. This is like if Spider-Man had a crappy marriage and spent all his time sitting in front of the TV bitching kind of fun.
I love that Ozymandias’s expression doesn’t change in that whole thing where he’s at the funeral and then the flashback. Scott’s playing with the whole genre of blog posts about superhero comics that got made into movies. It’s like he’s the reader, and here we all are, you know? As Scott? Reading way too much into a comic book? Or a comic book movie?
I don’t mean to make fun.
That is a total lie.
I don’t think Scott should stop with these.
That is not a lie.
March 10, 2009 at 11:31 pm
Urk
dude, I’m not reading anything into anything, I’m not even talking about content, I’m just talking about the differences between reading a comic book and watching a movie. I’m not the only person that these are different experiences for, right? That sees different visual strategies having different utiliities n different mediums, right?
March 10, 2009 at 11:34 pm
Urk
uh, that should be “commercial film experience” instead of “film commercial experience” in the middle of my long-winded answer up there.
March 10, 2009 at 11:46 pm
Sifu Tweety
I think it’s fairly shallow to claim that Zach Snyder did anything less than replicate the experience of reading a 12 issue limited-edition comic book as it was released monthly in 1986. I mean, sure, he amped up the not-being-a-comic-book-ness and he definitely exploited the having-a-kind-of-shitty-soundtrack that you can get to with movies and, sure, admittedly, he’s a master of not-really-getting-it in a way that — for all his many fine qualities — Alan Moore has never quite achieved. Alan Moore: noble failure at failing to get his own comics.
Actually, if I may? I bested Alan Moore in that arena. True! I thought Tales of the Black Freighter was a tiresome aside.
Suck it, Snyder!
March 10, 2009 at 11:50 pm
ari
I tried reading Watchmen a few months back. Because, you know, all the kewl kidz told me that it was great and that the movie would come soon to a theater near me. And honestly, it might be great. But I couldn’t get into it. Probably my problem and not the book’s. Still, I wonder if it’s a time-bound cultural something-or-other. Nah, it’s probably me. I’m the time-bound* one.
* In which time-bound stands in for “old”.
March 10, 2009 at 11:51 pm
ari
I note that the clock on our site didn’t spring forward. I hope it wasn’t late for brunch.
March 11, 2009 at 1:03 am
SEK
(I’m posting my reply to that hipper-than-thou link to Pitchfork or whatever here because that site sucks at HTML. I’m sure that’s just another reason I suck, but what can you do? I’ll respond to the reasonable people here tomorrow.)
Christ almighty, did I not just write a world-humilitating post about the world-historical necessity for charitable readings? But whatever. Onto my insufferableness!
First, of course I’m a pretentious fuck who uses all three names for extremely pretentious and impractical reasons. Please ignore the fact that I wrote that in 2005 and continue to believe your insult was either timely or insightful.
What the fucking fuck?
Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. Q.F.E.F.D. (F.F.)
Gratuitously name-dropping the top three unbearably hip and unreadable lit scene novels (if we count everything by Gaddis as one) in recent history.
I missed your earlier slagging of my sensibilities, so I wasn’t privy to what I needed to know not to offend them. (But that’s neither here nor there.) Your designation of novels published in the ’20s, ’70s, ’80s and ’90s as “unbearably hip” points to exactly what’s wrong with people who like novels from the ’20s, ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s: namely, that they weren’t written in the bearably hip ’00s, ’10s, and ’30s through ’60s. From the faint words I hear from high aloft in my ivory bower, those are the most bearably hip novels ever written, and everyone who loves them has been scientifically proven to be better than everyone who loves books from the ’20s, ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s. I apologize for assuming otherwise . . . or for naming the four novels that anyone who’s studied 20th Century literature (a.k.a. my field) would know intimately. I know I’m lording it over the peasants with my appeal to the lowest common professional deminator in my field, but what can I do? I should’ve referenced four authors no one’s ever heard of if I wanted to make a basic fucking point to an intelligent audience. Why speak in the lingua franca when I could’ve impressed everyone by referencing an obscure imagist whose works have been out of print since 1931 or, better yet, a personal translation of a manuscript by a heretofore unknown literary genius! Why why why did I reference something I could reasonably expect my audience to be familiar with when I could’ve slapped them with my impressively sized dick!
Like where SEK draws all kinds of conclusions from an almost completely imperceptible-to-the-naked-eye change in the expression of one character’s face between two panels.
By which you mean the ones I specify, and which are based clearly on the panels I describe? You’re championing the lazy reader here: “Hey, I didn’t see it the first time my eyes half-looked at the page. Damn it, you fucking egghead, this is almost-completely-imperceptible.” Of course, the fact that you admit they are perceptible—that once I forced you to linger over the panel instead of skimming over it like so many unbolded words in a textbook you actually perceived them—that totally invalidates their existence. Look, if you’d rather not have the obvious pointed out to you, the solution isn’t to write willfully ignorant screeds about people on the internet who point obvious things out to you; the solution is to pay some fucking attention to what you’re reading so you don’t get angry when people on the internet point out all the obvious shit you missed.
Honestly, it amuses me that you’re upset because I paid attention to the images in a comic book. It’s not like I’m performing alchemy here. I’m simply paying attention.
“There is nothing new under the oxen of the sun.” The oxen of the sun? What, scarab beetles aren’t good enough for you? Was this supposed to be witty, or just a shameless attempt to display minor erudition? Also, the erudition is fake.
God, you caught me here. I referenced one of the most famous chapters of a book you haven’t read and I just mentioned and linked to. You caught me there. I was so trying to be impressive with mighty erudition. Just for you—you and repetence, that is—I’ll link that link again, just so every can see how uppity my erudite ass is. Can you believe I had the nerve to make a pun about a chapter in a book I just mentioned? For shame, self, for shame.
March 11, 2009 at 1:23 am
SEK
Sweet Jesus, are you serious? A freaking zoom was groundbreaking in comic books?
Because I was asserting there that the zoom alone was what was impressive there . . . and because I didn’t already mention that the techniques themselves weren’t already well-established, or that Moore was fiddling around with previously established techniques. Am I unwittingly trolling my own blog or are people just having some serious problems with hair triggers tonight?
How could you not get exactly the same effect in film or TV?
Because you can’t. The spoken word runs together in pauseless sentences. The written word, superimposed on an image, hangs there permanently. Take parallel scene in the fourth book where Manhattan arrives at the studio and some kids try to mug Dan and Laurie and read what Manhattan’s handler says aloud. How long did it take you? Four seconds? Now pay attention to the page in front of you. Make your eyes do what Moore wanted them to—cross from the panels on the left to the panels on the right. Now how long did it take you? Sure, if you s-s-s-s-s-l-l-l-l-l-o-o-o-o-o-w-w-w-w-w-e-e-e-e-e-d-d-d-d-d down the voice track, you could stretch out the viewing experience to approximate the reading, but then it wouldn’t work as a viewing experience, now would it?
(Also, what Urk said.)
Uh, the Twin Towers might simply have been an emphasis on the fact that the movie takes place in the 80s, rather than pretense on the part of the director.
So long as they’re motile, I don’t see why we don’t include them in every film made between ’73 and ’01. That guy over there, the one making a film about the drug trade in Miami in ’84, I think it needs some Twin Towers. And what about that lovely coming-of-age story about adorable kids in Iowa? How would it not be improved by planting some Twin Towers in Des Moines? I mean, it was the ’80s . . .
(I’m seriously of the opinion that some people were skimming tonight.)
A visual medium is a visual medium; there’s nothing special about comics that makes zooming particularly unsuited to them.
No, it isn’t; yes, there is. If nothing else, you have to admit that the experience of reading comics is necessarily different from the experience of watching films. For a-very-relevant-example, Rorschach’s narration in Watchmen. In the book, his journal’s a perfect natural narrative device; sure, it’s written in shorthand, but it’s a journal! In the film, Rorschach reads his shorthand aloud, which is exactly the same thing as writing shorthand in a journal. What’s natural on the page doesn’t sound at all odd when written, er, read aloud . . .
. . . but I agree: other than their many differences, comics and films are exactly the same thing.
Sifu, I’m tired. I’ll deal with you tomorrow. (shakes fist emphatically)
March 11, 2009 at 3:38 am
Tom E
Since Urk seems to be the only person on Scott’s side today, I’ll try to jump to his defense.
Uh, the Twin Towers might simply have been an emphasis on the fact that the movie takes place in the 80s, rather than pretense on the part of the director.
Sometimes a cigar, etc. …
No. A post-2001 film which climaxes in a horrific act of terrorism (squid or no squid) cannot just have shots of the Twin Towers in order to establish period. (Cf. the final shot of Munich). This would still be true even if every single Twin Towers shot was taken straight from the comic (which they are not). Snyder, clearly, has no idea what he’s saying by slapping the Twin Towers all over his film, but he knows that it must mean something significant. I mean, dude, symbolism!
Also, can we have a moratorium on quoting Freud’s “just a cigar” line every time someone dislikes an interpretive reading? I mean, images are loaded with all sorts of cultural/historical/sexual/what-have-you baggage. Pretending such baggage doesn’t exist is, well, wrong. You can’t just draw editorial cartoons about Obama-era politics with a monkey and scoff at how sensitive people are when they say the cartoon is racist. I trust we can have discussions about literary/cultural texts without everyone getting all upset about close readings.
Meh. A visual medium is a visual medium; there’s nothing special about comics that makes zooming particularly unsuited to them.
I can’t really add anything to this that Urk or Scott haven’t already said, but….really? Guernica and Saving Private Ryan are both “visual media,” but would we ever conflate their formal aspects in such a way to say that Picasso and Spielberg’s portrayal of bombings share the same basic elements? No? But they’re both visual!
Look, people. Scott is using his understanding of comics to describe a particular way that Snyder’s film fails as an adaptation: namely, Moore & Gibbons’s comic has important formal innovations and nuances (which are so tied to the comic medium itself that the book has earned the moniker “unfilmable”) which Snyder does not notice or seem to care about. There are many other ways, which Scott alludes to, that Snyder fails in his adaptation, but a basic lack of understanding of how the comic works is definitely one of his chief crimes.
March 11, 2009 at 6:34 am
Simon
I think the twin towers are included mostly for exactly the reason you intimate: to make the viewer think of Veidt’s attack as a kind of 9/11. Snyder drives it even further when Jon and Laurie are amid the ruins. They stand before a slurry wall nearly identical to the one at the WTC, but of a kind that would make no sense at Times Square.
March 11, 2009 at 6:46 am
Anderson
I’ve been staying out of the Watchmen stuff, because (1) I haven’t seen the movie and (2) the comic, while displaying some of Moore’s usual invention and allusion, is ultimately trite. The politics and morals are not much more sophisticated than Frank Miller’s in The Dark Knight Returns.
So I’ve never been quite sure what the fuss is. Surely Moore has done better work. Are we just reliving our adolescent enthusiasms, or is Watchmen really a masterpiece on anything other than a formal level?
March 11, 2009 at 7:19 am
URK
Well, I don’t think it’s trite, but I don’t think it’s his best work. I think it’s a kind of unfortunate piece to try to adapt to film because it’s about comics, including the reading of them, their role in culture, their genre tropes, their economic history, their creators’ political sensibilities- etc. Sure you could make a film that really was about (superhero) films in the same way, but I don’t think that there’s a chance in hell that a major studio would fund or distribute a film that was as preoccupied with messing with film conventions in the way Watchmen messes with comics’ conventions. What happens is that the trite elements, and I’ll grant you that they’re there, get moved over without the met-commentary on their triteness or its implications.
March 11, 2009 at 7:25 am
Sifu Tweety
I’m on Scott’s side, just in a sort of puzzling way that involves making fun of him on the Internet.
Ozymandias’s expression definitely doesn’t change in that one sequence, though.
March 11, 2009 at 7:43 am
Anderson
What happens is that the trite elements, and I’ll grant you that they’re there, get moved over without the met-commentary on their triteness or its implications.
Okay, I can see that — it’s the rule in film adaptations of literature, surely. So maybe we’re on the same page, that the excellence of Watchmen is more a matter of its formal innovations (the ironic interspersals of the prose texts and Black Freighter comic, for ex).
Presumably for instance the irony of the transformation of the “break into the Grand Evil Genius’s remote HQ and foil his mad scheme to destroy/conquer the World!!!” conclusion into “yeah, well, maybe the world needs a little destroying and the G.E.G. is right after all” would need a deft touch to have the film audience pick up the irony. Maybe Johnny Depp should’ve been in the cast. Or make, say, Michael Keaton a superhero … oh wait …
March 11, 2009 at 8:13 am
URK
We’re pretty close to the same side here I think, tho maybe i’m more affected by what the book does well than you are. I don’t like to boil down all that meta-c0ommentary, some of which I think is ethically ambiguous and intentionally troubling into “formal innovation.” I think of it more as reflexive ethical critique through/of form or somesuch highfalutin’ nonsense.
March 11, 2009 at 8:48 am
Tom E
I’m not sure who your last comment was directed towards, URK, but I’m assuming it was me: I totally agree with you that the comic is a “reflexive ethical critique through/of form” and that the ethical ambiguities are central to the whole project. A number of commenters seemed to have a problem with the formal reading aspect of it, however. Namely, with the issue of reading comics differently than one reads a book or watches a movie, an issue you rather eloquently dismantled. So, anyway, we agree, and my comments are mostly just superfluous additions to yours. But, damnit, this is The Internet, and I will have my say!
Over at Acephalous, CF said, I don’t know that I read Ozymandias’ expressions precisely as you do (the more I stare at his face in any panel, the more I see his expressions as just various kinds of affectlessness, a face that moves but doesn’t change intent) but the possibility for multiple readings is an obvious requirement of good storytelling so, sorry, Snyder.
This is a point that needs reiterating: Snyder could have found another way of shooting that scene – commenting upon Veidt’s moral progression while also ruminating on his past with the Crimebusters (or Watchmen, or whatever) – with some sort of “cinematic” technique that still maintained ambiguity and a space for multiple readings. He didn’t, which suggests he either a) doesn’t care about crafting a formally, as well as thematically, rich film, or b) more likely, in my opinion, he doesn’t know how.
March 11, 2009 at 8:48 am
Josh
Because I was asserting there that the zoom alone was what was impressive there . . . and because I didn’t already mention that the techniques themselves weren’t already well-established, or that Moore was fiddling around with previously established techniques. Am I unwittingly trolling my own blog or are people just having some serious problems with hair triggers tonight?
Oh, I was totally on a hair trigger. My amazement wasn’t at your statement itself, though, more at the implications for comics in general, in the same way that this
just kinda depresses me. Yes, it’s wonderful that comics finally moved on from lightweight superhero stories, but it’s also fucking sad that it took as long as it did. (This is roughly analagous to SF fans trumpeting Brunner’s interweaving multiple stories and viewpoints in Stand on Zanzibar: congratulations, you finally managed to figure out literary techniques that were at least 30 years old.)
March 11, 2009 at 8:55 am
grackle
This is an enjoyable reading of the comic book but I have two comments on assumptions either you or the reader of your critique might be making:
(1) I suspect the claims of Moore’s originality lie more in your own cultural biases than in than in any particular depth his work exhibits. You may be right but “…never in the service of creating a new breed of reader” is quite a claim that seems dubious at best. A long line of forebears to whom Moore is indebted come to mind – from Winsor McKay, Richard Outcault, George Herriman and Elzie Segar to Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. It is a tribute to the Zeitgeist that Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns appeared at the same time as The Watchmen. The play on the medium by its practitioners has been extensive throughout its history.
(2) I also suspect that the criticisms you are encountering lie in (some peoples’) convictions that you may be drawing overly broad conclusions and seeing rather more depth in the work than it warrents. Moore, himself, surely recognized that he was authoring a comic book and that he had no more pretensions than that. I am not trying to impugn comic books as art but to say that you have given yourself a Sisyphean task if you wish to convince much of the public that they need a PhD guide in order to properly enjoy a comic book. Accessibility is, after all, the point of comic books.
March 11, 2009 at 9:00 am
Josh
I really don’t understand the idea that “a visual medium is a visual medium.”
What I was trying to get at was that yes, of course reading a comic book is a different experience than watching a movie, but there are certain basic techniques they share, and I don’t (as should be clear from my last comment) take “oh, film and comics are telling different kinds of stories” to be anything other than an indictment of comics. (Yes, I understand the historical reasons why that’s the case, just as I understand the historical reasons why SF was so slow to catch up to “mainstream” literature, but in neither case is it an excuse.)
March 11, 2009 at 10:09 am
SEK
Sifu: It’s like he’s the reader, and here we all are, you know? As Scott? Reading way too much into a comic book? Or a comic book movie?
grackle: I also suspect that the criticisms you are encountering lie in (some peoples’) convictions that you may be drawing overly broad conclusions and seeing rather more depth in the work than it warrents.
I suppose I can’t assume that people have read material I don’t link to in a post, but if you honestly think I’m reading more into Moore’s panel than is actually there, read this or take a gander at Moore’s script for the opening panel of Watchmen (reprinted in Watching the Watchmen):
I stop there only because Gibbons only reproduces the first page. Given the level of detail present in my link and in the above, does anyone still think that the lines underneath Ozymandias’s eyes or the sternness of his expression were accidental flourishes? Given that the focus of these panels is Adrian’s face, Moore would’ve turned his anal-retentiveness to the depiction of it. Because if the comic wants us to stop and stare at his face—Moore places it in the center of the panel and frames it between the yellow shirt and hair— it only makes sense that he would pay more attention to the details of its depiction.
So am I doing a reading of the book? Absolutely. Is it as arbitrary and idiosyncratic as even my supporters suggest? Absolutely not. I’m paying close attention to those details the formal elements of the composition compel me to pay attention to. (I’m not, for example, focusing on the falling leaves in those panels.)
March 11, 2009 at 10:16 am
Sifu Tweety
I’m with you, SEK, except that his expression doesn’t change.
March 11, 2009 at 10:33 am
Vance
Yup. Makes me think of Queen Christina…
March 11, 2009 at 10:33 am
dana
Can I write a counterpoint to your piece next week, SEK? I think you’re wrong but I think you’re wrong in an interesting way.
Then, we can use our superpowers to fight.
March 11, 2009 at 11:08 am
SEK
Keeping in mind that the area around the eyes is one writers and artists pay very close attention to, let’s do a little experiment. Here’s a composite of the third and fourth panels with the fourth at 25 percent opacity. Here’s another with the fourth at 75 percent. Do they look identical? According to nerds, they shouldn’t.
March 11, 2009 at 11:10 am
SEK
(And Dana, of course you can!)
March 11, 2009 at 11:21 am
Anderson
but if you honestly think I’m reading more into Moore’s panel than is actually there
What Moore *wanted* to be there, and what actually *appeared* there, are two separate things.
“Never trust the teller; trust the tale,” as Lawrence said.
March 11, 2009 at 11:46 am
JPool
Scott,
I don’t think anyone thinks that Ozymandias’s eyes or expressions are arbitrary or that Moore probably didn’t spend countless all caps pages describing them. They simply read and respond to them differently than you do. I haven’t read the comic myself so I don’t know how I’d read the panels you reproduce in context, but in isolation I simply don’t see what you see. That doesn’t mean that it’s not there for you or that it might not be what Moore intended us all to see. Where I reject your analysis is in believing that there is one true meaning to text/images, that this is equivalent to what the author described/intended for the visuals, and that this can be uncovered if only one examines the images carefully enough.
Off topic but related to your post on teaching, and possibly Josh’s comment about comic innovations, do you teach any manga in your classes? I’m not a connoisseur, but in my experience there’s a much more open and experimental approach to visual structure and representational style. Put another way, how would teaching an anime like FCLC or a film like Uzumaki compare to Watchmen or The Dark Knight?
March 11, 2009 at 12:07 pm
Urk
but Josh, it’s not like there’s just this one universal pool of visual techniques that one medium uses well and the other uses poorly. You’re critiquing a technique within comics in terms of how advanced/basic a technique _that you deem analogous_ is in film. You’re indicting the medium in absolute terms when any meaningful comparison here is relative. You’re using filmic terms (“zoom”) for something that looks like a zoom to you because you’re more familiar with film than comics.
Maybe the best way to think about it is that film and comics share (unevenly) some “vocabulary.” And then there’s a larger pool of “words” that are inexact cognates, and some that are deceptive because they seem like cognates but are in fact different, partially because whatever the vocabularic similarities are, the two mediums “speak” in different grammers. So you can’t indict a speaker from group A for misconconstructing a sentence via the grammatical rules used by group B. Or at least you can’t if you want your argument to make sense.
It’s. not . a. Zoom. Maybe if you start there, what i’m saying will seem more sensible.
But you’re also I think conflating your indictment of comics formal properties (they existed for decades without discovering the zoom!)* with an indictment of their most common subject matter. Now I admit that the two are linked, and I said as much, but if you’re making the argument it seems like you’re making (comic’s formal properties are primitive because they’re subject matter is retrograde) then I’d ask if you’re willing to make the same connections in film? Because I think that film is full of examples of formal innovation executed in the service of total dreck or (Birth of a Nation) worse.** Most film noir is really just (beautiful compelling) gangster pulp, right? How many musicals really tell stories whose subject matter and onscreen action (divorced from their technical grammar) speaks deeply of the human condition?
Now, I’d grant that , if you do a historiographic comparison, you have a fuller history of formal innovation and expertise (which I’m saying you have to judge relatively within each medium) in the service of stupid ideas in comics than you do in film. But it’s much closer to a tie than your suggesting, and more importantly, the relationship between content and form is characteristic, not qualitative. Stories that benefit from the use of slow zooms in on minutely changing action aren’t necessarily absolutely better or worse than stories that don’t.
There is a kernal of truth in the idea of comics “catching up” with film in terms of quality of content, but even then there are plenty of outliers: Herriman’s Krazy kat is published two years before Birth of a Naiton premieres, justt as a for instance. In either case, the absolute comparison between retrograde stories told in a primitive fashion and compelling serious comments on the human condition told in a sophisticated fashion simply doesn’t hold up.
March 11, 2009 at 12:28 pm
Urk
oops
* Again, it’s not (what you call) “the zoom” that’s the innovation, it’s the subject and communicative purpose of (the arrangement of panels that you call) “the zoom” that’s innovative.
Anyway, most of what I’m saying is that if you proceed from an indictment of comics as a medium, for whatever reason, and assume that no familiarity or specialized knowledge is valuable in understanding them or judging their formal innovations, then your opinion of their formal innovations is likely to deliver you right back to that indictment. I think that’s like picking up a book and complaining that it’s not loud enough, and then getting into an argument over whether this was an unusually quiet book or not while proudly proclaiming that it wasn’t worth knowing whether books were generally loud or quiet. If you’re happy with this, then I’m obviously not going to change your mind, so I’ll go back to grading papers.
But it’s not a zoom.
March 11, 2009 at 12:33 pm
SEK
What Moore *wanted* to be there, and what actually *appeared* there, are two separate things.
Do people really think English Ph.D.s are unfamiliar with the intentional fallacy? Because we’re not. That said, comics is an unusually collaborative medium. As the procedural information in Watching the Watchmen attests, Moore wrote, sent the script to Gibbons, who mocked up panels; Gibbons then sent the mock-ups back to Moore, who approved or didn’t, then sent them back to Gibbons; then Gibbons did the panels proper, sent them back to Moore for approval, and he either did or didn’t send them to John Higgins, who did the watercolors, sent them to Moore, &c. (Yes, there’s still much more “&c.”) Point being, all that collaboration adds up to a distillation of authorial intent much different than what we have with literary works proper (even if you factor in an editor). Put differently:
Thomas Wolfe may’ve asked his editor “Do you know what I mean?” Alan Moore could ask Gibbons “Did you draw what I told you to?” Much different collaborative terms.
I don’t think anyone thinks that Ozymandias’s eyes or expressions are arbitrary or that Moore probably didn’t spend countless all caps pages describing them. They simply read and respond to them differently than you do
Well, Sifu kept saying “his expression didn’t change,” which is why I went the opacity route: even if you read the changed expression differently, it’s important to recognize that it did change, that the squint in the third panel becomes baggy eyes in the fourth, that the tightly drawn lips in the third panel point down in the fourth panel, &c. I linked to the McCloud bits on expression because they’re such a part of the comic language: many working artists have emotional charts like McCloud and—if I may—Darwin drew up. I’m not saying facial expressions are innate, only that there’s a tradition that the majority of American comics follow . . . and that manga doesn’t. As for whether I teach any manga, I don’t. But only because my current research has me landlocked in the 19th Century with little time to learn new things. Not that I don’t learn new things when I teach—that happens—but I’m working with pre-screened and pre-prepared material at this point. If I delved into another tradition, I wouldn’t be able to teach anyone much in the way of relevant vs. irrelevant detail.
March 11, 2009 at 12:34 pm
SEK
if you proceed from an indictment of comics as a medium, for whatever reason, and assume that no familiarity or specialized knowledge is valuable in understanding them or judging their formal innovations, then your opinion of their formal innovations is likely to deliver you right back to that indictment.
Well said, Urk. Well said.
March 11, 2009 at 12:47 pm
SEK
(Also, I’d like to apologize to Josh for assuming he was referring to me. That linked post had me a little, shall we say, tetchy last night.)
March 11, 2009 at 1:07 pm
Anderson
Okay, then we can reconstruct the instructions for the panels in question, which evidently went something like this:
SECOND PANEL CLOSER IN NOW, VEIGHT’S FACE CLOSER IN, BAGS UNDER EYES SUBTLY HINTING AT IMPENDING PLAN TO AVERT NUCLEAR WAR VIA MASS MURDER … RESIGNATION SHOULD BE EVIDENT BUT HOLD OFF ON DESPAIR UNTIL THIRD PANEL, MAYBE MAKE BAGS UNDER EYES WHERE READER CAN NOW SEE THEM WITH MAGNIFYING GLASS … THIRD PANEL, EVEN CLOSER, VEIGHT’S FACE NOW TO OCCUPY 14% OF FRAME … VEIGHT RESIGNED *AND* DESPAIRING NOW, AS INDICATED BY FACT THAT HE IS NOW REMEMBERING THE POINTLESS DEATH OF HIS BELOVED CAT FLUFFY, HIT BY A CAR …
March 11, 2009 at 1:10 pm
Josh
Again, it’s not (what you call) “the zoom” that’s the innovation, it’s the subject and communicative purpose of (the arrangement of panels that you call) “the zoom” that’s innovative.
No, I get that, and that’s why I have an issue with it.
Anyway, most of what I’m saying is that if you proceed from an indictment of comics as a medium, for whatever reason, and assume that no familiarity or specialized knowledge is valuable in understanding them or judging their formal innovations, then your opinion of their formal innovations is likely to deliver you right back to that indictment.
You misunderstand where I’m coming from. I wasn’t proceeding from an indictment of comics as a medium, I was coming to an indictment of them, based on Scott’s and your assertion that the way this particular technique was used in Watchmen was novel and groundbreaking. It never would have occurred to me before yesterday that doing something so simple and well-established as zooming on someone standing still was a signal innovation.
March 11, 2009 at 1:21 pm
kid bitzer
in the literature on vision, there is a fair amount about “subjective constancies”, e.g. shape constancies that make a square table look square even when viewed in foreshortening as a rectangle; color constancies that make a shade of red look the same shade even against a variety of different backgrounds and lights and so on.
the interesting thing is that in all of these cases, there really are objective differences between the two perceptual objects. e.g., in the color cases, the wavelength values of the reflected light can differ quite widely. or the projection-shape of the penny at an angle really can be an elipse, instead of a circle.
but these differences, while clearly present, are not the kind of difference that makes a difference to our sense of constancy. our perceptual system adjusts so that we ignore the difference.
it may (though i’ve never seen it in the literature) that there are expression constancies as well, i.e. that we read “same expression” out of two visual patterns that can differ quite widely. if that’s right, then it is not enough to show that two pictures of a face differ in some way or another. they have to differ in a way that makes a difference, i.e. one that our sense of ‘expression constancy’ does not simply level into one expression.
March 11, 2009 at 1:29 pm
Sifu Tweety
I totally don’t see the bags under the eyes thing, at all. The eyes are drawn almost identically. There are slight changes in the forehead muscles and lips, yes, but I don’t remotely get from there to your reading.
That’s totally fine with me, as it happens.
March 11, 2009 at 2:07 pm
kid bitzer
i was trying to say what sifu said, only he put it better.
March 11, 2009 at 2:11 pm
Urk
“It never would have occurred to me before yesterday that doing something so simple and well-established as zooming on someone standing still was a signal innovation.”
Ok, but to make your statement make sense of , rather than ignore the differences between the two mediums, you might say: “It never would have occurred to me before yesterday that doing something [in comics that suggests something]so simple and well-established [in the medium of film] as zooming on someone standing still was a signal innovation.
then I’d say “welcome to the world of reading comics. they read differently than films show.” But then I’d also have to say that SEK isn’t saying that this is a groundbreaking, signal innovation as much as he;s saying that it raises and thwarts expectations based on how that device (which still isn’t exactly a zoom) is typically used in comics.
and, I assumed that you were preceding from that indictment rather than coming to it based on your stated low expectations of comics storytelling and your insistence on seeing that arrangement of panels as “a zoom” in film terms and critiquing it in terms of the historic use of zoom in film technique rather than the use of zoom analogous paneling in comics. You seem to me to be saying that you both didn’t know, and that you didn’t think that it was worth knowing. Which seems to me like preceding form an indictment.
and it’s not a zoom.
March 11, 2009 at 2:41 pm
SEK
VEIGHT RESIGNED *AND* DESPAIRING NOW, AS INDICATED BY FACT THAT HE IS NOW REMEMBERING THE POINTLESS DEATH OF HIS BELOVED CAT FLUFFY, HIT BY A CAR …
And in the end, it all comes down to the literary critic over-interpreting and reading the character’s mind . . . even when the critic simply identifies they very moment the character himself claims he came to a momentous decision. Moreover, even though the literary critic said as much in the original post—even though he linked to very panel in which said claim was made—charitable readers will accuse him of bad faith Freudianism because, well, because. Even better, he should do it by mocking the notion that the author in question might specify the thoughts in the heads of his characters, because he would never do that . . .
Nor would he ever indicate that he wants certain lines on certain emphasized . . .
I’m just another fanboy, over-analyzing what wasn’t meant to be analyzed in the first place.
March 11, 2009 at 2:47 pm
Anderson
Lighten up, my good chap. Over-analyzing is part of the fun of interpretation.
March 11, 2009 at 2:49 pm
Josh
and, I assumed that you were preceding from that indictment rather than coming to it based on your stated low expectations of comics storytelling
Wait a sec, what stated low expectations? I’ve only read a few comic books (actually, come to think of it, Watchmen and V for Vendetta may be the only ones, other than the occasional dissection on the Invincible Super Blog — wait, no, I’ve read Maus), so I really have no idea what the state of the art is or was in comics. To the extent that I’ve been referring to lightweight superhero stuff, that’s been me articulating my understanding of what you’ve been saying.
and your insistence on seeing that arrangement of panels as “a zoom” in film terms and critiquing it in terms of the historic use of zoom in film technique rather than the use of zoom analogous paneling in comics.
It looks like a zoom to me, I (perhaps mis-)understood Scott to be saying that it served a purpose in this case exactly identical to those of zooms in cinema (the example I keep coming back to in my mind is the closeup of Matt Damon at the end of Saving Private Ryan, and you haven’t really convinced me yet that it can’t or shouldn’t serve the same purpose in comics. (I understand now that the technique is used for other purposes in comics, but that’s where the indictment comes in: if comics artists were sufficiently blinkered as to not look at the wider world of visual art and rip off techniques from it, then that says unflattering things about them.)
March 11, 2009 at 2:50 pm
Vance
Wow, he’s as compulsive as Shaw in specifying what he can’t control.
March 11, 2009 at 3:11 pm
SEK
He can’t control it, but unlike Shaw, who put his work in the hands of directors and theatrical troupes, he can quality-control. (Probably one of the reasons he hates the very notion of his books being adapted to film.)
March 11, 2009 at 3:17 pm
dana
Did you mean to link to this post in your last, SEK?
March 11, 2009 at 3:40 pm
SEK
Yes. I didn’t feel like copying the whole chain of custody.
March 11, 2009 at 4:14 pm
essear
I’m with Sifu. Different forehead, different lips, different hair… but the eyes? They’re the same.
March 11, 2009 at 4:40 pm
MrTimbo
While being unable to shake the feeling that the following statement accepts various premises which I think are not valid, I think it bears mentioning that the historical development of a given medium is unique, governed by all sorts of elements that are not inherent to that medium. One top of mind example: if one medium is “richer” than another, it’s going to be able to employ more people in its practice, more people are going to see examples to emulate and improve upon, etc, etc, so even if you are unwilling to distinguish between comic “zooming” and “zooming” in film, it seems to me wrongheaded to denigrate the medium simply because it’s practitioners didn’t get around to a particular technique by an arbitrary deadline.
That said, I think it’s also reasonable, just based on the feel of comics, that an artist/writer would not readily wonder what the effect might be of drawing three panels in succession which were minutely different — to say nothing of three panels in succession which were minutely different followed by a fourth which was similar but applied a new angle of difference.
March 11, 2009 at 5:04 pm
MoXmas
Without meaning to be a troll, looking at that moment in comics panels form, and thinking it’s a zoom — or as many reviews have said in similar terms, a storyboard — is probably exactly how you make a film like Zack Snyder did.
Also, thinking that comics have to catch up to films, when comics have been able to make a man flying look believeable from minute one back in the caves, and films have only been adequate at it in the last four years or so, still doesn’t mean that SUPERMAN RETURNS was all that good a film.
March 11, 2009 at 5:17 pm
kid bitzer
it’s true that “lascaux II: the return of spotty bison and a few outlines of hands” was a pretty crap movie.
March 11, 2009 at 6:17 pm
Urk
Hi Josh
comics artists/writers did/do look at the wider world of visual techniques and rip off techniques that were/are applicable and adapt them in various ways. And, vice versa (see Lichtenstein, Roy). But the differences in the ways that audiences take in the different mediums means that analogous strategies and effects* have different places in the mediums’ internal hierarchies regarding whether a given strategy is “basic” or ‘advanced” whether it’s ubiquitously or rarely used, what it’s used to communicate it, what kind of action typically follows it, etc. So Moore using that panelized-zoom thing sets up in the mind of many readers something more dramatic than what seems to be happening on the page. If you wanted really to analogize this to a film device maybe it would be more like ominous backing music transitioning inexplicably (at that moment) to a light happy scene. It’s a thwarting of expectations.
* I’m not using “techniques” here just because “techniques”-how an effect is accomplished–is actually what’s different here, if that makes sense.
And I gathered that you came into this without much regard for comics storytelling based on several things you said, starting with “it’s surprising to me (although maybe it shouldn’t be) that comic artists hadn’t picked up on such a basic technique “-specifically the “maybe it shouldn’t be.”
March 11, 2009 at 7:07 pm
SEK
I posted the other bit about Manhattan as a figure of the reader at my place. It needs hashing out and much revision before I push it over here. But if you’re interested . . .
March 11, 2009 at 7:39 pm
Josh
I’ll have you all know that this conversation made me go out and get a copy of Understanding Comics as well as Will Eisner’s Graphic Storytelling and Visual Narrative (and I will note that the back cover copy of the latter says that it will be of interest to both comics artists and filmmakers). Maybe after reading them I will better understand the zoom-that-is-not-a-zoom.
And Urk, “maybe it shouldn’t be” was an oblique reference to the disdain mainstream culture has traditionally had towards comics, a disdain that I don’t share but am aware of. I’ve heard (and done, in my day) enough whining from SF fans about how their beloved genre gets no respect to be wary of dismissing non-mainstream art out of hand.
March 11, 2009 at 7:51 pm
SEK
DON’T JOSH DON’T! (Send me an email.)
March 11, 2009 at 7:57 pm
Josh
Sent.
March 11, 2009 at 9:29 pm
URK
Sorry for misreading that, and being a little bit of a dick about it then. I haven’t read Understanding Comics in a long time, and I’ve never read the Eisner, tho I’d love too. Most of what i was arguing is my half-assed attempt to understand my own longtime reading experiences.
March 12, 2009 at 5:31 am
Anderson
Apropos of almost nothing, am I the last person on earth to see “Frank Miller’s Charlie Brown”?
Since I found it at Andrew Sullivan’s blog, I’m guessing the answer is “yes.”
March 12, 2009 at 5:52 am
dana
Anderson, I hadn’t seen that. And it’s wonderful.
March 12, 2009 at 8:06 am
JPool
Not to risk squid attack, but I’ve finally decided what my context-free reading of the difference between Ozymandias’s expression/face in the third and fourth panels is: He’s younger.
March 12, 2009 at 8:25 am
Vance
How very Occam! No risk of squid.
March 12, 2009 at 9:19 am
kid bitzer
the squid that can be treated as no risk is not the true squid.
March 12, 2009 at 9:24 am
Anderson
One cannot risk twice the same squid.
March 12, 2009 at 9:40 am
Josh
Hmph. I send you mail at your demand, Scott, and what do I get? Nothing.
March 12, 2009 at 9:41 am
essear
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the squid.
March 12, 2009 at 10:40 am
dana
One cannot step on the same squid twice.
March 12, 2009 at 11:11 am
Sifu Tweety
I send you mail at your demand, Scott, and what do I get?
No no, he responded. You just have to look very, very closely.
March 12, 2009 at 12:31 pm
Anderson
I like that, Essear. “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a OMIGOD IT’S GOT ME HELLLLLLLP!…”
March 12, 2009 at 12:43 pm
kid bitzer
this is just to say
i have been eaten
by the squid
that was in
the icebox
and which
was probably
saving
you for breakfast.
Forgive me
it was so vicious
so slimy
and so cold.
March 12, 2009 at 12:54 pm
Anderson
Wow. An improvement on the original, Bitzer.
March 12, 2009 at 1:06 pm
Jason B.
Holy FSM, kb, that’s inspired.
March 12, 2009 at 1:29 pm
“This is just to say” « The Edge of the American West
[…] 12, 2009 in history and current events | by SEK by kid bitzer I have been eaten by the squid that was in the […]
March 12, 2009 at 1:53 pm
eric
“Frank Miller’s Charlie Brown”
I prefer Saturday Morning Watchmen.
March 12, 2009 at 2:39 pm
essear
I like that, Essear. “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a OMIGOD IT’S GOT ME HELLLLLLLP!…”
Thanks, but it’s not very original; I think various Japanese animators already got to this part:
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a squid
Are one.
March 13, 2009 at 7:20 pm
Anderson
Doubt anyone’s still here, but I finally got to Watchmen tonight — not the story Moore told, but a pretty good movie on its own terms. Being superheroes won’t save the world, but if you like it & you’re good at it, might as well do it. Saving the world gets entirely too complicated — “heavy,” indeed.
(Hint to Moore — you want the movie to tell your story? Don’t stay out of the project.)
March 14, 2009 at 7:46 pm
Impossible Adaptation « A Record of Naught
[…] -Kaufman, again. (Tolkien link included in original.) (see “How to teach comics responsibly in a composition class” for an example of the techniques used in Watchmen.) […]