Watching For Watchmen’s Zach Snyder

published, Gonzaga Bulletin 2009

With the upcoming release of the highly anticipated, end-of-days epic Watchmen, film junkies and graphic novel gurus are abuzz with fervent expectation for what will most likely be an undeniably successful blockbuster hit. Zach Snyder, the man who brought you such gore-fests as 300 and Dawn of the Dead, unveils his newest brainchild to the world this Friday.

While many people know about Watchmen, many do not know director Zach Snyder as a household name. He is a relatively young Hollywood director, but, in his short tenure as one of the reigning directing giants, he has made his mark on both cinematic and commercial genres. Devoted followers credit him with a so-called “cinematic wide-screen style”, creating an intensely saturated aesthetic.

Snyder’s fansite characterizes his work as, “landscapes with a painter’s sense of light and color… combin[ing] powerful storytelling with a compelling sense of place.” It may come as no surprise, then, to know that Snyder studied at London’s Heatherlies School, where he was trained in painting. Later, he attended the prestigious Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California.

Like many directors, Snyder has accrued a following of disciples, devoted to his panoramic aesthetic and larger-than-life visual ethos.

One thing is for sure when watching a Snyder film, the viewer is immersed in what has been called a “big screen look,” which can be alternately engrossing and horrifying depending on the film. This also plays a part in his commercial work with noted companies like Gatorade, Subaru, Nissan, BMW and Budweiser, making the product the center of what critics have likened “a visual assault”.

Snyder is most well known for the Spartan epic, 300. Snyder’s visually gluttonous aesthetic features splattering blood and spit, as well as enough heads lopped off to make the French Revolution look like amateur hour. Unapologetically making little attempt to be historically accurate, Snyder pushes the viewer into a dream-like world of epic fighting between villains and heroes seemingly sizeable enough to move mountains.

Some critics panned 300 for almost numbingly frequent outbursts of bloody violence, taking away from the viewer’s ability to be fully engrossed in the film. Many viewers, however, do not care and have come to welcome Snyder as a purveyor of borderline pornographic violence with buckets of fake blood smeared from here to Thermopylae.

Snyder’s other famous work, Dawn of the Dead amassed a cult following of its own. While not a true remake of either George Romero’s 1978 horror Night of the Living Dead or the cult classic 28 Days, Snyder infused his same gory carnage. As the undead descend upon the last vestiges of “pure” humanity, Snyder presents us with cerebellum-hungry undead soccer moms and middle-management goobers, the unharmonious birth of a demonic, zombie fetus and rotting flesh galore. One critic characterized the zombies as, “deliciously rotting and pukey,” and one couldn’t agree more. Snyder’s job is done as the viewer walks out of the theater, stomach churning, on the verge of some reverse peristalsis of his or her own.

Not everyone is a Snyder fan and many critics agree that, aside from his visual style, he lacks an ability to direct quality screenwriting. Like a proverbial male model, a Snyder film looks great… but not so much with the talking.

Critics' opinions aside, it is undeniable that Snyder presents not just a movie but a visual experiential moment. With the debut of Watchmen on the horizon, Snyder’s choice to portray graphic novels as films is clear. His style melds the impossible and the possible, bridges fantasy and reality, and draws the viewer into shared sensory overload.

If you are one of the millions of people who will see the upcoming Watchmen, you will likely not be disappointed. Just as his other movies have, Snyder’s films will continue to awe, impress and disturb. Other movies simply beckon you to watch; Snyder’s films punch you in the gut, tie you up and make you forget your own name.