Martin Carr reviews the seventh episode of Watchmen…
From Blaxploitation homage to Balboa boxing soundtrack via the Godfather of Soul, Watchmen has it all. Intricately detailed infomercials give way to multiple protagonists who merge, meld and exchange timelines without leaving the room. Past and present are revealed simultaneously whilst the conundrum of Doctor Manhattan overshadows everything. Compassion towards others within contemporary society is questioned beneath a cloak of elaborate vocabulary and wide eyed innocence.
In a time of worldwide transatlantic communication Watchmen pulls no punches in pointing out big brother elements and flagrant memory manipulation. Information is filtered, revelations revealed and ultimately our judgement is subjective. If episode seven does anything it carries on the cross examination of individual identity as viewed through the window of contemporary society. From videotaped titles through to ludicrous court room scenes and oversized calamari, Watchmen revels in the ridiculous whilst dissecting our divisive preoccupations.
Outside of the Millennium time piece it remains carnage while secrets hide beneath more than skin deep disguises. People talk in their sleep, nuclear bunkers are stockpiled with cavalry corpses and certain reflective individuals are absent without leave. Elsewhere flatulence serves as a defence strategy and Jordan Peele gets respect, while marionette theatres, suicide bombers and sedated pachyderms weigh in before we hit euthanasia.
Those who believe death is the final adventure may have to re-evaluate after this, whereas fans of Life On Mars from the Bowie back catalogue will never hammer in another nail without pause. For those who doubted whether Watchmen could maintain that batting average consider yourselves silenced. After six flawless episodes which ruffled feathers, redefined narrative structure and reimagined the tried and true without resorting to tricks, things just kicked up a notch. This series is now hours away from becoming an academic touchstone for future screenwriters everywhere.
Those who have yet to experience will look on with ‘An Almost Religious Awe’ as these writers continue passing comment on America whilst engaging, entertaining and challenging those savvy enough to pay attention. For everyone else there are explosions and at least one semi naked actor strolling through a paddy field.
Martin Carr