Welcome back, today I wanted to write a bit about Doomsday Clock, written by Geoff Johns and illustrated by Gary Frank. It is the DC event series from 2017 to 2019 adapting the annual DC Comics “Crisis” model into a sequel to Watchmen.
Yes, that Watchmen.
I haven’t had a lot of time to read comics regularly as of late, such is the nature of my day job, freelancing, and project schedule. However, this weekend proved to be an exception and I had time to relax. I decided to finally watch the second part of the animated Watchmen adaptation of MAX, and it made me think about Doomsday Clock, a series I never finished because, unsurprisingly, I found myself busy and it didn’t hold my attention at the time
But hey, no time like the present to catch up, right?
DC’s Doomsday Clock – Gross IP Exploitation or Metacommentary Sandbox?
I re-read the first four issues of Geoff Johns and Gary Frank’s Doomsday Clock and still see a lot of things that I dislike. But, I am also one to talk about things I find genuinely interesting. For example? The fourth issue is brilliant. I’ll write more on that another time.
As a comic nerd, I have a great respect for Watchmen. It is a masterful work, though not without its problems. The worldview presented within is of its time and there are elements of the work that don’t hold up in certain regards of metaphor and messaging. It is still a major highlight of comics history and while I don’t consider it inherently untouchable, it is clear why so many adaptations and additions to the text fail to work.
The text is of the singular voice of Alan Moore and his perspective on history, society, and culture. That is not to dismiss the brilliant work of Dave Gibbons, of course, who is also of vital importance to the success of Watchmen, but Moore’s unique vision drives the meaning one pulls from the comics. Without Alan Moore, Watchmen does not work.
Dave Gibbons has shepherded the story in his way as the only one of the creators still willing to be engaged with the story in any way. Gibbons is a co-writer, but the tone and voice are so very much Moore. As great as he is, he can’t quite steer these post-Moore Watchmen projects in a way that evokes the specific mindset of Moore that suffuses the original work.
Doomsday Clock suffers a great deal from this. It does get close, at times, to Moore-ish language, plotting, and meaning, but far more often it stumbles, too content in trying to follow an idea of Alan Moore, rather than thinking like Alan Moore.
A Sequel to Watchmen? Really?
I’m not inherently opposed to a sequel to Watchmen, as it is a rather interesting alternative reality that initially ends with the Sword of Damocles hanging over alternate 1986. Who wouldn’t tempted to at least revisit that world if they had the option, especially as a creator? My initial thought wouldn’t be to tie it to the yearly Crisis storytelling of the DC Comics universe. My impulse would not be to play it straight, either, but such is the case with Doomsday Clock, a story that jettisons satirical exploration of the comic form of its era and instead arrives as a complicit cog in a vanity project.
But, we have what we have, and there is some attempt to provide the book with some depth, to varying successes. We will see that unfold into a rough thesis across 12 issues, but the first four? Kind of a mess, again, except for issue #4.
The comic feels as though It’s mainly about trying to play the greatest hits of Watchmen, merely out of marketability over narrative sense and respect for storytelling. It’s not all doom and gloom, however. The new Rorschach is a smart metatextual expansion and evolution of a character who is more of a meme than anything now. Also of interest is the usage of Doctor Manhatten and Ozymandias.
But really, the main appeal to this series is the juxtaposition and mirroring between the quasi-Charlton universe of Watchmen and the then-contemporary metastory of the DC Universe. Warts and all, there is still stuff to enjoy.
Metaphorical Meat
For what it is worth, the central crisis and parallels of Doomsday Clock are entertaining and an interesting, if somewhat masturbatory conceit that is established in the first four issues. Just as the heroes are outlawed in 1977 in Watchmen, there is a costumed avenger crisis in the contemporary DCU as the world comes to terms with the reveal of “The Superman Theory.” Not only a fun nod to the super-man who built DC, but it also creates a ticking clock of an impending disaster that echoes Watchmen. World War Three is not based on ballistic missiles, but the metagene.
The Superman Theory is one of the elements I enjoy in the storytelling of Doomsday Clock. However, at times, the main comic narrative feels too much like an uneven tug-of-war between the big faces of the universe and cramming in as many superheroes and villains as possible. I understand the desire to ensure every hero gets their 5-seconds of face time.
But where Doomsday Clock follows the path set by Watchmen, and best succeeds, is in the errata: News clippings, infographics, and excerpts from dirt sheets in 1950s Hollywood. Moore’s text blossoms with the errata, which came to its perfect execution across his League of Extra-Ordinary Gentlemen books but shines, too, in Watchmen. Doomsday Clock does an able follow-up to this.
Also, “The Black Freighter” of the original comic, the metatextual commentary of the main narrative and comics at large that runs within Watchmen has its analog in the case of Nathanial Dusk, noir detective, and the life and death of his actor, Carver Colman, in Doomsday Clock. Though, even then, Carver Colman’s story becomes entwined with the narrative in a way that “Black Freighter” never did – the only connection between that comic and the larger story is its author being involved in Ozymandias’ scheme as a scenario writer, for which is later murdered by Ozymandias to cover his tracks.
Carter Coleman and his films are integral to Doomsday Clock in a way that works for the story being told. Again, a rhyme, but not the same – but it works. It is in the spirit of the original text.
So much of Doomsday Clock is meant to echo the experience of reading Watchmen. For now, I’d like to turn to something that bothered me. It may be a little petty, I suppose, but when you try to follow up on one of the most important comics ever released, your stumbles are that much more noticeable.
The Grids Matter
Let’s start at one of the more admittedly superficial elements of the Doomsday Clock production that bothers me. The handling of panels, specifically. I have written a lot about panels over at The Duck. Panels are a key language of comics that can carry interpretive meaning in addition to controlling pacing and setting time and tone. The original Watchmen is very deliberate in its 3×3, 9-panel grid, with occasional panels that combine rows and columns. The sense of pacing presented in this 3×3 grid is a key element to why Watchmen reads so easily and why breaks in this structure read as so critical to storytelling.
Pages can span minutes, to seconds, based on the breakdown of action from panel to panel. There is an intuitiveness to managing this across a simple grid, and between Moore and Gibbons, they cracked a certain code of fluctuating time. From page to page, there is no getting lost as far as temporality from moment to moment.
Consider the death of the Comedian in the first issue of Watchmen. The pacing is immaculate. Deftly woven between the scene of the present, and followed through with a splashy panel that breaks the 9-panel grid.
This page is even more impressive as it covers two different moments, simultaneously. Past and present play out in such an intriguing way. An economy of storytelling.
Panel Language of Disruption on Reality
Doomsday Clock is not paced so well, at times resorting to a 4×3 grid, resulting in an overly messy 12-panel page (issue #3, page 12) where the minutia of the action makes the sequence far less snappy. Ozymandias’ acrobatic escape from the Comedian reads as choppy as opposed to the feat of prowess it is intended to be. This sequence could have easily been handled in the 3×3 grid. it would have felt better. Here it feels bloated.
And yes, I recognize that Watchmen issue #7, page 18 violates the very grid structure I am harping on, but it makes sense in this case because the disruption in the panel structure reflects the disruption and unease presented in Dan’s nightmare. The nightmare is a violent intrusion into order and rhythm we have been following for several issues; the uncanny made manifest in the very structure of the book. It is an unreality intruding on the reality of Dan/Nightowl II.
In the Doomsday Clock escape of Ozymandias, we are still firmly rooted within the reality of the setting; the presence of the intrusive new grid is a tonal mismatch with its predecessor, Watchmen. Though as the modern DC sweeps into the metanarrative presented in Doomsday Clock, there is an allowance for this change-up; as far as Ozymandias’ escape, it feels off-putting. It just doesn’t feel in line with what Watchmen was. Doomsday Clock is not meant to be Watchmen, but it sure tries to draw from the association. In that regard, this grid situation just rubs me the wrong way.
And with that, the reading log for this week is down. Let me know what your thoughts are on Doomsday Clock. I’ll post a follow-up as I continue to read it, especially as I move into the issues I hadn’t read. If you are after these comics, be sure to check out your local comic book shop.
Also, I am still down to write traditional reviews, so if you have key issues you want me to tackle, or create your own comics and want feedback, please contact me about it.
