Watchmen (1986-1987)

Another well-known limited comic series written by Alan Moore in the ‘80s and adapted into a film in the 2000s, which I finally picked up after reading V for Vendetta.  For me, a major difference in the reading experience here was that I hadn’t already seen the film adaptation of Watchmen – it’s one that I just never got around to, but now that I’ve read the graphic novel, I’m sure I’ll be checking it out sooner or later.

In the mid-80s of the US in a slightly-altered reality, the days of the caped crusader have gone.  After the passage of the Keene Act, most so-called “superheroes” have been forced by law into retirement, with the exception of a few costumed heroes who are allowed to work for the government.  Among them are the Comedian, an amoral rogue with mercenary leanings, and Dr. Manhattan, a scientist who acquired incredible, godlike powers in a nuclear accident, the only legitimately-powered person in the book.  When the Comedian turns up murdered, Rorschach, a shadowy figure who never gave up the masked vigilante life, begins to suspect that someone is deliberately going after heroes.  He approaches a number of associates from the old days in the hope of getting to the bottom of the mystery.

There’s some really interesting stuff going on here.  I like that most of their characters don’t have powers.  The story explores superheroes more as a social phenomenon than as comic-book marvels, and the various ways it shows the incorporation of retired heroes into everyday life and society is intriguing.  It also looks at the sort of things that drive an “ordinary” person to put on a costume and fight crime, and it dwells excellently on how the creation of Dr. Manhattan really changed the nature of the superhero game and made many of the characters question what it still means to be human, let alone what their purpose as heroes is.  I love the retired hero concept and all that goes along with it, from secret crusading to tell-all books.  The plot is dense but engrossing.  I feel like it holds together pretty well and peruses its major themes with complexity.  Most of the characters are interesting in a dystopian comic-book noir way (in other words, messed up, tragic, and/or morally compromised.)

Unfortunately, I’m even less impressed with the female characters here than I was throughout much of V for Vendetta.  There are two female heroes, a mother and daughter who used the same persona and hypersexualized costume in two different eras.  The mother, Sally, seems to have gotten into it mostly for fame and now acts like a cross between Norma Desmond and Momma Rose, equal parts faded star and overbearing show mother.  The daughter, Laurie, was groomed to take up Sally’s mantle and never seems to have been all that interested in being a hero.  The sexual entanglements of both characters over the years seem to get the main focus in their plots.  I like Laurie better than Sally – there’s a nice scene in which she reminisces about her favorite part of crusading, a particular patrol route she used to take at night – but the way her character is used throughout the book still leaves kind of a bad taste in my mouth.  An unfortunate mark on an otherwise pretty engaging book.

Warnings

Graphic comic-book violence, sexual content (included attempted assault,) language, drinking/smoking/drug references, and thematic elements.