It’s time once again to name the worst movies I had the misfortune of sitting through in 2009. There might be worse out there, but these are the ones I’ve seen. Enjoy, my friends, The Scott Condella shit-plate special. After all, I did this for you. Also, as a special gift, one of the entries will include multiple movies.

Attached to the beginning of Pixar’s latest film, Up, is a great short film. No, not Partly Cloudy (although that is diverting). The first ten to fifteen minutes of Up work on an entirely different level than the rest of the film. They encapsulate the life of a romance from its inception until the “death do us part,” in which an introverted balloon salesman named Carl sits alone after his wife’s wake. Their life was quotidian, poignant, and full of love. While the film ultimately celebrates the regular, down-to-earth adventure of a simple life, it’s the wildly implausible, imaginative feats of derring-do that can’t hold up to the cliched litany of everyday moments that comprise the film’s magisterial opening sequence.

Huge lot of comics fans that we are, the Playtime Staff sat down for a roundtable on Zach Snyder’s Watchmen (2009). Matt Kessen, our resident Watchmen expert was tapped to conduct the discussion, especially in regards to how the film differed from Moore’s graphic novel. The following takes place over the the week before and after the film’s release. If you are interested in continuing the discussion, feel free to jump into the fray on the forum.

Page One: Quis custodiet ipsos custodis? The Pre-Game
Page Two: Why I Am Not Seeing …

A surprisingly sturdy, mildly provocative 105 minute movie is hiding somewhere in Watchmen’s gangly two and three-quarter hours running time. Dense with shockingly unnecessary exposition, this story about the nature of heroism and identity indulges in a great deal of introspective character study between bouts of flamboyant brutality and fleeting moments where director Zack Snyder’s technical prowess and filmmaking ambition coincide. As a messy, sprawling adaptation, the product of marketing, focus-testing, and the instincts of a young would-be visionary still learning his craft, the inchoate professionalism of the production serves the film’s gargantuan ambitions and readymade stature, rather than completely defeating it. From the perspective of the film’s own history, it is a miracle that it got made at all.

Few comic book properties being adapted into the medium of film draw as much fantard enthusiasm, skepticism, and scrutiny as does Watchmen, the beloved graphic novel written by Alan Moore and illustrated by David Gibbons about ex-costumed vigilantes searching for answers after one of their kind is murdered, only to discover that it is a small piece of something bigger and much more terrifying than they initially thought.  The book has long languished in the depths of development hell, with directors such as Terry Gilliam, Paul Greengrass, and Darren Aronofsky …

It was almost immediately after the twelfth, concluding issue of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ Watchmen that the popular clamoring for a sequel began. It was no wonder; this comic series had achieved legendary status in the medium by its third issue, and to this day, only Art Spiegelman’s Maus compares to it in terms of wide public respect among graphic novels.1 Moreover, for all of the depth and intricacy of its symbolism, the subtlety and completeness of its characterization, it was a superhero comic. That people expected continuing serialization …