The internet is full of people reviewing Watchmen who manage to do so without spoilers. Not me. The following assumes that you have either read or will never read the original graphic novel and that you have either watched or will never watch the film.

Director Zach Snyder was fully aware of the impossible task before him when he took up the reigns on adapting the critically-acclaimed but "unfilmable" Watchmen graphic novel. He readily admits that his motivation was out of love for the comic and fear that it would end up in the wrong hands:

If I made it, I had a chance to not screw it up. If I did screw it up, at least it was me who screwed it up. But if I let them take the script they showed me to someone else to screw up, it would have been my fault. So I had to make it.

Homage to the original is apparent in every shot—many of which are lifted straight from the panels of Dave Gibbons, the original's artist and artistic collaborator for the film. Alan Moore, the original's writer who asked to not be associated with the film in any way (not even a writing credit), must admit it's a loving rendition... though his ability to find fault with his novel-turned-film V for Vendetta surprised me.

Unfortunately, it's in this rigid formalism—a simultaneous love for the original and fear of "screwing it up"—that the film loses its way. While unafraid to make changes for the sake of coherence and duration (gone is the artist's colony and thus the giant squid, gone too is Adrian Veidt's climactic autobiography and thus the Gordian Knot tapestry), after the nearly three hours that remain have come and gone we're left wondering about its purpose and relevance. Why, other than a desire to make the best adaptation of Watchmen ever, was this movie made?

The original had a strong unifying voice: the true confrontation of an evil requires such a deep understanding that it can lead to becoming the evil oneself. Most notably, we see this theme in Adrian Veidt's quest to end the mass destruction of nuclear war resulting in mass destruction. It's also present in the dedication to fighting crime turning Walter Kovacs into a criminal under the Keene Act and in supporting characters like the criminal psychiatrist Dr. Malcolm Long tortured by truly fathoming the evils he studies. All of these transformations are underscored by the story-within-a-story, Tales of the Black Freighter, featuring a character so determined to save a village from pirates that he kills innocent people and desecrates the dead. While I don't blame Zach Snyder for leaving out the Tales of the Black Freighter (although I'm looking forward to the extended DVD which includes it), I do blame him for leaving out the conceptual focus it represented.

Perhaps I'm asking for the moon. Shouldn't I be tearfully happy with such a faithful replication of the comic I loved so much in high school that I xeroxed panels and scotch-taped them in my locker for motivation? Is a middle-ground between Zach's Old Masters reproduction version and the "modern-day, War on Terror, PG-13 monstrosity open to a sequel" that producers initially demanded too much to ask for? Although, with the 80s anxiety of a world on the brink of nuclear war no longer a pervasive experience, doesn't something have to replace it as the emotional heart shared between the audience and the characters we're watching?

For instance, let's say we wanted to focus on modern distrust of corporations (although a cliché to be sure). There's ample source material from the original. In the film, the smoldering hole left by Ozymandias' masterstroke resembles a modern day Ground Zero, complete with humming trucks labeled as Veidt Enterprises. It's there the attempt at relevance ends, short of any 9/11 Truth allusions, even though such conspiracy theories actually hold true in this universe and the original even provides a crank news service in the New Frontiersman.

Or let's say we wanted to investigate themes of sexuality. Several homosexual characters were left out entirely (though a smoking hot Silhouette plays a larger role in the opening credits than throughout the original) and Rorschach's homophobia is underplayed. The original suggests non-traditional sexualities as motivation for several characters donning costumes in the first place. The film does connect adrenaline-fueled superheroism and sex, but plays it for laughs (dodging the original's question, "Did the costumes make it good?"). A shame, as a film about sex as the unspoken ambition behind becoming a superhero may have had the same deconstructive effect on modern movie superheroes that the original had on 1980s comic book ones.

In the end, Alan Moore is having the last laugh. Perhaps he's just a cranky old man who likes to complain... or perhaps he knew something that the rest of us had to watch the film before we understood. Watchmen was complete as a graphic novel. It's long and complex and treats its characters and the world they inhabit with depth and grace and... movies can't. If the movie version is to be merely the original writ large on the silver screen, then why watch the Watchmen when you can read it?