Watchmen - Episode 9: See How They Fly
HBO's revitalised and rebooted 2019 Watchmen series has finally come to a much-anticipated close in an underwhelming and flat dud of an evasive climax. In other words, the casual epitome of a Damon Lindelof series finale that loses all traction and impact when push comes to shove.
There are two significant issues here with the finale of Watchmen: the mythology and the impact of a structure. The former is more of a personal gripe but one that still affects the overall series response. The series and comic book has constantly reinforced that Dr Manhattan is an indestructible, altruistic god. Graphic Novel writer Alan Moore has Manhattan serve as the property’s most haunting and substantial character, with his lack of emotional conflict and objective viewpoint, with significant traits that transcend the material into something entirely different to the quintessential comic book character of the 1980s and 1940s. What makes the character’s arc all the more tragic and eerie is he is ultimately trapped in this trajectory for the time span of infinite.
Lindelof ultimately undercuts Moore's anti-establishment and oxymoronic propaganda with a character who is now capable of the ability to feel and who, ironically, becomes politically active. Bizarrely, Dr Manhattan now stands on a political spectrum after the chaotic and defining world moment of supposed world peace in 1985, a moment in which the political world spurned said character to a fate of mass prejudice and exile. It all comes across out of place with the storyline feeling more indicative of using any excuse to play the twist card rather than an authentic character trait that.
The Watchmen property also repeats on multiple occasions that Jon Osterman is a permanent void of the universe. Ozymandias, the greatest mind the world has ever seen, failed to destroy the god-like power at the height of his dynamism and money. Yet here, Dr Manhattan is obliterated in the space of no exposition and reason of nothing but necessity. The character’s ultimate demise is something that feels far too easy and unearned in a two-episode ninety-minute running time. This brings the relevancy of the second problem the series finale has in the impact of a structure.
Lindelof has burned his ultra committed audiences on multiple occasions during his TV properties and thus, here is no different. A singular, intimate season with no loose ends were promised and for the most part, Lindelof delivers. However, per his baiting style of structure and hours of fatty, irrelevant impact, the writer begins to tie all the shows knots together in one hour rather than the nine he had to do so. With that, the show becomes unbalanced and stuttery. There is so much here that is rushed without sound dignity in order to provide the smallest and most meaningless of details, pure greed of self-indulgence rather than a service to the material. The viewer begins to question what matters and what doesn't but not in the contextual conviction of what the show wants to provoke, but whether their time has been well spent.
This is a show that has had the most monumental of dips and slumps, ranging from a dull and underwhelming start to an outrageously brilliant and effective middle ground, but as sadly predicted in previous reviews, it fallen foul to a disappointing and wholly anticlimactic trope of indecision and ill focus — even with the best intentions. If anything is cementing the fact that Watchmen still may be an unfilmable property it is purported to be, it is this series. All said and done, it is clear that such a property needs a visionary behind the helm and Lindelof was never up to scratch, with every outstanding element here never in the right place at the same time. A second season on the same terms as this must be unequivocally ruled out if a showrunner like Lindelof is involved; a TV aesthetic and mind needs to be avoided, with a central feature film authority a necessity if this show is given a second season. The mind of Terry Gilliam or Michael Mann is screaming to sail this boat and if given the artistic freedom and strict sentimentality to the material, it could be a fine recipe of success.
