The mid-1980s were a period of seismic change for DC Comics. It seemed as if the contributions of the brightest and most innovative talents of the time – Frank Miller, Alan Moore, Marv Wolfman, and George Perez to name just a few – were transforming comic books into a modern metamorphosis which blended the richly iconic qualities of the past with the promising drama of what was to become the future. There were two tales in particular which appeared to enjoy such a blend. Both ran for twelve issues, and both are constantly in print to this day. From April 1985 to March 1986, Wolfman and Perez depicted the Anti-Monitor bringing decay to DC’s Multiverse, and it required a cluster of heroes from across multiple Earths to team together to save it. And then from September 1986 to October 1987 ran a darker strand of storytelling – a tale in a hardened universe on the brink of nuclear destruction, where heroes are not super, and where the events of the world revolve around a God-like creature once as human as you or I. Crisis on Infinite Earths was the culmination of Multiversal adventures spanning back to Fox’s Flash (vol 1) 123 (Flash of Two Worlds); Watchmen was the culmination of a growing trend of realism as writers explored the reality of super heroics and any effects on the geo-political climate of the time. Both stories sold astonishingly well, and while it is more than possible to explore the similarities and corresponding themes of such stories, any effort would be rather pointless. After all, despite being born of the same publisher, the worlds of Watchmen and the mainstream DC Universe were never meant to meet. Once Alan Moore was told to create original characters – the likes of which Rorschach and Doctor Manhattan are perhaps the most acclaimed – after futile attempts to breathe new life into the Ditko creations of Charlton Comics, such as the Question, Blue Beetle, and Captain Atom to name a few, Watchmen had no link to DC’s world. That is how it remained for decades. However, slowly but surely – no doubt to the disdain of Moore – worlds began to collide…
Doomsday Clock – a 12-issue maxiseries published sporadically from January 2018 to February 2020 – is the product of Geoff Johns’s grand plan for the DC Universe, spanning back to his grand New 52 run on Justice League (vol 1). Joining Geoff Johns is artist Gary Frank, whose work is present on every page of this monolithic tale. Already a story destined to enjoy reprints for years to come, I’ve read this story in its two original hardcover collected editions.
I couldn’t help but feel a degree of worry before heading into Doomsday Clock. That isn’t just because a maxiseries of this size rarely fails to be imposing or full of promise, but because of its premise. Alan Moore’s Watchmen stood out for a variety of reasons – its odd charm when depicting a sense of gritty realism previously unseen in the medium, its array of characters and the sluggish speed of Moore slowly pulling back the curtains to reveal the origins of these tragic faces, and the twists-and-turns which led to a genuinely clever, if unbelievably silly, monster-featuring conclusion. But above all else, Watchmen stood out because Moore created a unique world. This was a universe in and of itself, a world so striking similar to ours but different enough to be entirely gripping. Thanks to such absorbing characters and plotting – and Moore’s very best efforts in expanding upon his world by including products of prose in the final pages of each issue – Watchmen stood out because of its bold difference. Integrating such a beast into an even larger conglomerate, especially one where it seems that any kind of independence is virtually impossible in an era where crossovers are constant, seemed difficult to desire.
I’m sure much of that is what Alan Moore believes too. But truthfully speaking, since these characters were so successful and Watchmen continues to be loved in people’s hands, on their phones, and on the big screens across the world, it was always inevitable that the independence Moore wanted for them wasn’t going to last. In 2012, DC launched Before Watchmen, a series of prequel stories exploring the backstories of characters from the Minutemen. Following that, only a few years later as the New 52 drew to a close, Geoff Johns depicted a godly figure, shining bright with blue energy, vaporise the surviving members of the Crime Syndicate into ashes. This was the first hint that Doctor Manhattan was no longer restricted to his own universe. Geoff Johns continued to tease with DC Universe: Rebirth in 2016, and then The Button in 2017, whereby the badge belonging to the deceased Comedian is found in the Batcave. So, it’s always been clear that eyes were going to be back on the characters from the world of Watchmen. Thankfully, Geoff Johns brilliantly weaved its return with skill, intrigue, and genuine excitement. Therefore, we can head into Doomsday Clock with interest, knowing that something titanic is about to commence.
Upon opening and reading the first few pages of Doomsday Clock 1, Johns transports us back to that world which seemed, for a time, saved. Naturally, having read Watchmen is basically essential before heading into this, but Johns brings us up to date with where this world has gone. At the end of Watchmen 12, millions had been killed because Ozymandias unleashed a great monster upon New York City. However, that monster was a fabrication. Ozymandias aimed to bring a world – then torn between the powers of the USA and the Soviet Union – together after it seemed destined that a nuclear holocaust would become reality. Doomsday Clock takes us six years into the future, and, in a nutshell, it’s all gone wrong again. Ozymandias's deceit has been revealed, and the world is back on course for nuclear war. There are riots on the streets, civil unrest, and everything else in-between. Naturally, it lacks the same bite which featured in Moore’s writing, but it’s gripping and establishes a deep drama instantly. Perhaps Johns makes it feel even more like Watchmen through the story’s main protagonist. It is a shock to find Rorschach alive, and even a little irritating. I always prefer it when characters stay dead, especially ones who leave an impact. But it becomes clear that is a new Rorschach, and one on a mission. The mystery builds as Johns spends the first issue setting the scene. That mystery fuels interest. It’s Rorschach who breaks out a unique duo from prison. Alongside this new Rorschach, Marionette and Mime are the only characters from the Watchmen world who aren’t created by Moore and Gibbons. Cleverly, Johns holds back the origin stories of such new characters, but it’s good to see some fresh faces in a familiar world. But throughout, we are teased with the return of famous characters. It doesn’t take long for Ozymandias to appear with, yet again, a plan to rescue this seemingly doomed world. How people have the gall to trust him is beyond comprehension. However, he is on the quest for Doctor Manhattan – he left the Watchmen world after that maxiseries because he wanted to go a less depressing world. And where has he gone to find it? The DC Universe – perhaps Doctor Manhattan isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.
Crossing the two universes over is naturally a big event to say the least. When the two universes begin to meet in Doomsday Clock 2, there is a sense of thrill and excitement. Ozymandias, Rorschach, Marionette and Mime use an altered version of Nite-Owl’s ship to travel to the DC Universe. The same thrill that was in the pages of Fox, O’Neil, and Conway during those titanic JLA/JSA crossovers can be felt here. The suspense is real. And upon reaching the DC Universe, Ozymandias and Rorschach split ways to search for the two most powerful and influential souls of the world. The former searches for Lex Luthor, while the latter hunts for Bruce Wayne. Again, this is a modern recreation of an old-style JLA/JSA crossover where the heroes part ways to beat the villains. The outcome is broadly the same here - it ends in failure, but the point stands. That sense of excitement as the two universes collide feels familiarly palpable.
As with Watchmen, Doomsday Clock revolves around the potency of its personalities. While the likes of Ozymandias and Doctor Manhattan have evolved and changed to some extent, Rorschach, along with Marionette and Mime, are completely clean slates for Johns to do with as he pleases. On the surface, the latter two appear more interesting. Marionette and Mime are not successors or apparent-carbon copies of previously seen characters. Their backstory – delivered with drama and tragedy in Doomsday Clock 6 – is perhaps predictably dark and cliched, especially when it comes to similarities over troubled childhoods, bullies, and the mob. However, with her flair and his threatening silence, they make for an iconic duo. Plus, their clashes with the established faces of the Watchmen world make for some entertaining scenes. Overall, most readers would tire of them were they to feature for too long, but they don’t detract from the original characters whatsoever. However, their drama feels superficial compared to the plight of this new Rorschach. At first, it would be incredibly easy to dismiss him. With his journal-writing and masked-appearance, he seems little different from his predecessor. The last thing anyone would want is a naff recreation of a genuinely memorable and well-constructed character like Rorschach. Over time, it becomes clear that Johns hasn’t lumbered us with such a character.
Rorschach’s search for Bruce Wayne naturally takes him to Wayne Manor and to the Bat-Cave. Throughout Doomsday Clock 3, Batman listens to Rorschach’s tales of this alternative world facing destruction and he even presents him with the original Rorschach’s diary to prove of it. How the new Rorschach managed to obtain this diary is never clear, but it is more than enough to make for one of the best cliff-hanger endings to an issue. Batman tells Rorschach that Doctor Manhattan is in Arkham Asylum. This intriguing mystery is all part of a rouse however, as Batman traps Rorschach within the asylum’s walls. The following issue chronicles Rorschach in Arkham Asylum, but it more so focuses on Rorschach in the Fitzgerald Mental Home in the Watchmen world. It’s here where we discover that Reggie Long is no clone of Walter Kovacs. Reggie Long is in fact the son of the therapist who aimed to treat Kovacs during the original Watchmen series, a faint link between the two Rorschachs which doesn’t feel too disruptive. As ever, Reggie’s life is tragic. His parents were among the millions killed by the alien façade created by Ozymandias. Such a tragedy traumatised him to the point of insanity. Those scenes throughout Doomsday Clock 4 of Reggie in the mental home are richer with the presence of the elderly Moth-Man, a Minuteman back in the day whose backstory is – surprise, surprise – tragic. Johns writes those scenes so well and with such impact that Rorschach is easily the most interesting of the new creations from the Doomsday Clock saga.
Meanwhile, Ozymandias’s route is slightly more pedestrian. He locates Lex Luthor and tells him of the disaster of the Watchmen world. Luthor believes Ozymandias to be insane, but suddenly, Johns drops another bomb. Luthor is shot by none other than the Comedian. No one really expected him – the man to die before even the first issue of Watchmen began – to return. But he is back and throughout, his role isn’t too dissimilar to a drugged-up Vietnam war hawk. Accompanying his guns and love of shooting is his rough sense of humour. He lands Ozymandias in hospital. Throughout these earlier issues, Johns unleashes surprises and questions but for now we only get teases of possible answers.
Doomsday Clock is a tale of two worlds. During the middle issues, Ozymandias – after recovering and escaping from public slight – is on a mission for Green Lantern’s ring. With this power – and with a genetically modified and enhanced Bubastis, his love and pet – Ozymandias can force Doctor Manhattan to appear and pled with him to rescue his old world. While the pathways of Ozymandias and Rorschach naturally merge back together, Mime and Marionette go on a very different adventure. Why Ozymandias risked bringing such insane characters into his plan is confusing, but during the first half of the series, you’d be mistaken for thinking they are part of the mainstream DC world. They cause chaos in Gotham City and anger the Joker, who then suddenly becomes very fond of them, and they collaborate almost like long-lost-siblings in a half-hearted attempt to kill Batman.
While these scenes are entertaining, you cannot help but feel like they are scenes of glorified filler. The same applies to the Comedian. His comeback, although certainly surprising, lacks much bite. Aside from shooting a few unfortunate souls and adding some attitude to scenes of dialogue, his only presence in the story is to prove that Doctor Manhattan – with the ease in which he can bring the deceased back to life – is a god.
The return of Doctor Manhattan himself is a moment teased and built-up to with great suspense. It’s very DC for his return to be aided by two rather obscure characters from the Multiverse – Johnny Thunder, now 102 years old, and Saturn Girl, a Legionnaire from the future. They become useful tools for Ozymandias and, with a Green Lantern (the power source of the original Green Lantern, which just so happens to be lying in an old, abandoned factory) and Bubastis. The climax of events comes in Doomsday Clock 7. Doctor Manhattan reappears; Ozymandias begs. And that’s when the truth is revealed. Ozymandias’s desire for peace is genuine, but the means in which he has done so are - as ever – deceitful and evil. Despite his initial rage against Ozymandias for the role he played in the death of his parents, Reggie was manipulated by Ozymandias; he lied to Rorschach about his guilt and terminal cancer, a false verdict aiming only to attain sympathy and support. Doctor Manhattan reveals that Reggie has been lied to. His father didn’t befriend the original Rorschach; he was mentally destroyed by Kovacs. Any hope for a better world was destroyed by Kovac’s insanity. Such a dark turn reveals the true menace of both Ozymandias and the Watchmen world. Just as Moore did with brilliance, any hope of a good ending or better world is crushed by the ugly truth. For the remainder of the story, Reggie is a former shell of himself, bearing the mask of the man who destroyed any goodness within his father. Doctor Manhattan sees no reason to return to that dark world. For all intents and purposes, which is where the Watchmen side of events come to a close. The story continues for Doctor Manhattan, but as for the others, they play little role in the following events. I can’t help but feel a degree of disappointment. Johns built some of these characters up flawlessly, and to see their stories either fall into depression or vanish into irrelevance is sad. Why did the Comedian need to come back? Why did Marionette and Mime really need to be created, if they were to add little much of significance? Why doesn’t Reggie get the redemption he deserves? These are all questions left unanswered. But we can all relish in the poetic plotting of Geoff Johns and the failure of Ozymandias. Alan Moore built Ozymandias up with his murderous deceit, and it was Geoff Johns who brought the killer back down to Earth.
This may be a controversial or unusual judgement to make, but when you compare the two strands of writing in Doomsday Clock – the first being Ozymandias’s quest for Doctor Manhattan, and the second being the collapse of the DC Universe’s faith in superheroes – I must say that the second plot is by far the more interesting and indeed dramatic. There have been dozens of stories over the years where the public have lost faith in superheroes – Legends in the mid-1980s quickly comes to mind – but none of them make for as much of a page-turner as Johns’s story here in Doomsday Clock. It’s amazing to think that Invasion!, the three-issue miniseries from 1988, continues to enjoy such a colossal impact on the DC Universe. That is when the concept of a meta-gene was established – a gene inside only a small number of human beings which give them a superpower during a moment of trauma or great stress. When you think about such an idea, it all clicks into place. How else could Barry Allen have survived that lightning strike? Many superheroes got their powers by accident – or did they? That’s the question surrounding the second half of Doomsday Clock.
Readers of Watchmen may remember – perhaps very fondly – that at the end of each issue were a number of pages of newspaper articles, magazines, or top-secret documents which added great new content and lore to the Watchmen universe. Alan Moore wrote this brilliantly well and you can really obtain some great insights into the details of that troubled world. Geoff Johns does the same too. From articles from the Watchmen world chronicling the downfall of Ozymandias in 1992, to the troubled backstory of Moth-Man, to the unsolved murder of a Hollywood actor named Carver Colman, these pages are rich with additional information. One such article is about a growing belief in the Supermen Theory – that the US government are purposefully creating metahumans – heroes and villains and plan on using them for military might or even warfare. Such an idea seems like a classic crackpot conspiracy theory. However, when you think that 97% of metahumans are American, and that throughout the history of DC Comics, we have seen heroes emerge from secret government agencies using technology either alien or hidden from public view (or both), then we as readers begin to question it too. Perhaps that’s why the plotting of Doomsday Clock 6-12 – the core issues focusing on the Supermen Theory, public anxiety which transforms into rioting, and then a kind of civil war between metahumans – is so effective. Even us loyal readers question our heroes.
As with Moore in Watchmen, Johns blends the paranoia and widespread belief in this conspiracy theory with geo-political events. This has been a long-time coming. Geoff Johns himself, with his New 52 Justice League run, explored the government using superheroes for their own benefit. Over time, that distrust has decayed, although more evidence as to why it was already so widespread by the start of Doomsday Clock 1 would have been nice (just like Johns did with Infinite Crisis two decades ago, displaying the death of Maxwell Lord as a turning point). Either way, we see the beginning of two cold wars. The first is political – between the US and Russia – and the second is more of a metahuman drama, with Black Adam ruling his own country in the Middle East which proclaims itself to be a safe-haven for metahumans. Tensions rise throughout the early issues, but it explodes in Doomsday Clock 8. Firestorm is one of those constantly questioned about his origin. His merging with a scientist linked to a US agency make him a victim to constant speculation, especially from Russia. In an attempt to explain himself to Russia, he loses his temper and suddenly loses control of his powers. Within seconds, dozens of civilians are transformed into glass. That loss of trust in Firestorm is seismic enough, but really, it’s the fall of Superman which is most tragic.
As the original superhero, Superman has always been the most trusted of them all. Even to the Russians and enemies of the west, they don’t see him as America’s puppet (a judgement which perhaps ignores history to some extent). But with Doomsday Clock 8, as the Russian metahuman army attacks Firestorm for his accidental crime, Superman is forced to intervene. Those newspaper front-pages at the end of the eighth issue display the full drama of events – Superman has lost the trust he was always seemingly going to have. Meanwhile, every other superhero heads off to Mars to tackle who they believe to be behind all this drama – Doctor Manhattan. Doomsday Clock 8-11 is what you’d typically find in all DC crossover events going back to Crisis on Infinite Earths. All the heroes team up to fight Doctor Manhattan. Although it is a puny and naturally pointless affair, Gary Frank’s brilliance as an artist is on show and it adds to that tension and feeling of the epic tale unfolding.
It's also pointless because Doctor Manhattan isn’t behind all of this. The real mastermind is, once again, Ozymandias. Through manipulating the powers of Firestorm using Bubastis, Ozymandias is trying to get Doctor Manhattan to intervene and rescue both their own world and now the DC Universe. Doctor Manhattan is having none of it, but it’s through him where the root of final success actually appears. Throughout this story and in Watchmen, Doctor Manhattan is painted to be painfully logical and lacking any emotion. Much of that was literally vaporised in the awful accidental experiment which transformed him into a god in the first place. But Lex Luthor is alone in noticing that whenever Doctor Manhattan has appeared, in his aura always falls a photograph. It’s a photograph of John Osterman and Janey Slater in their days of pure happiness, years before John was transformed into Doctor Manhattan. It’s a love which still leaves a mark on the god, and Luthor has been collecting these photographs for some time. It’s this mystery which makes the confrontation between Superman and Doctor Manhattan all the more powerful.
A predictable writer would pen a fight scene between these two legends which causes unbelievable devastation. But that would be pointless. They have nothing to prove. Instead, it’s Doctor Manhattan revealing himself for what he is – a god who can change anything.
Throughout the story, readers would have noticed that some characters or groups of people either appear to be missing, or others have never heard of them. This is a timeline where the Justice Society never seems to have existed, hence why Johnny Thunder is lacking his Thunderbolt. Doctor Manhattan has changed that. He can easily change it back. During the latter issues, you can read his captions and notice how he treats the DC Universe and its characters like toys. They are so beneath him and he can change them. He has done the same to Superman – in this timeline, his adoptive parents were killed in a car crash when he was young. Naturally, such a revelation makes Superman not at all pleased, but he comes to his senses and realises that Doctor Manhattan, with such power, can do such good. He never commits moves for the sake of evil, but for questions of curiosity. Superman finds one of the photos of the young John and Janey nearby, reminding him of that love. That is one factor which changes Doctor Manhattan’s mind and makes him believe that the world could be saved. The other factor seems smaller but is actually hugely significant.
The mystery of Carver Colman has been flawlessly written by Johns and explored so delicately. A famous movie star who lied about his backstory and was being blackmailed before he was killed makes for a strange accompanying story to the drama of the Multiverse. But again, this is where Doctor Manhattan becomes involved. The first soul he encountered in this new universe was Carver Colman. His foresight into Carver’s future created a friendship between them both, but Doctor Manhattan did nothing when his murder came. But he used Carver as a test subject – letting him live, letting him have a different life – just to see the consequences. Throughout, Johns reminds us just how much of a god Doctor Manhattan is, and it’s through him that we realise that Superman is the central pillar to the DC Universe. We see that Superman can appear on Earth at different times throughout history, and that redefines the world around him. Were Superman to appear first in 1938, then the Justice Society is formed. But were he to appear in 1956, the Justice League is created instead. I like this idea; it makes for a clean way of explaining how this new Multiverse works while also leaving potential for more universes and events in the future. As conclusions go, I feel like Doctor Manhattan probably gives into Superman far too easily, and the ending is unbelievably clean. Simply put, Doctor Manhattan puts everything right just because he can. There are lots of questions left unanswered, but you can’t deny the drama of the second half and impact that it has.
What happens next? Ozymandias just seems to vanish back home with the rest of the Watchmen characters and their world does improve. What’s even more interesting is Doctor Manhattan’s fate. After all he has seen and all the power he has made, he exchanges it to begin life again as a child, calling himself Clark. It’s an ending which evokes a brief laugh, but also a smile. It’s a happy ending for Doctor Manhattan. Doomsday Clock is certainly a mouthful of a story, but it is perhaps the most defining DC story of the 2010s. And with such a gripping plot that really tugs at the heartstrings of loyal readers of the DC Universe, perhaps Geoff Johns has succeeded after all in his original goal. Perhaps, he has more than simply succeeded. He wanted a crossover between the DC Universe and the world of Watchmen. But after all that has occurred and all the drama, paranoia, distrust, and bloodshed, Johns has transformed the DC Universe into the Watchmen one. What’s more, the similarities between Superman and Doctor Manhattan become clear with each page. Both their universes revolve around them. For better or for worse, Watchmen has left a mark on the DC Universe, and vice versa.
The artwork and storytelling of Dave Gibbons was one reason for Watchmen’s great success. It had the flair and colour of a comic book, but the visual style of a film. It contained within its pages the right amount of suspense and drama to fuel the genius of Moore’s dialogue and captions. Clearly, Gary Frank wishes to emulate that same style of storytelling for Doomsday Clock. Largely, he succeeds. The page layouts and panels are so similar to Watchmen, but they are neither parody nor shameless rip-off. Frank has his own distinct style – I like to think of it appearing more like Brian Bolland than anyone else, but with a realistic yet subtle style of inking. The consistency of one artist greatly helps sustain the drama and power which Geoff Johns depicts within the pages of Doomsday Clock.
VERDICT
It’s easy to be apprehensive when reading Doomsday Clock, but overall it is an incredibly good read. Geoff Johns cleverly brings the two worlds together and it has the feel of an old-style JLA/JSA crossover from eras past. Although Johns makes very little of the preludes to this story – there is no mention of the Button, a confusing choice given the appearance of the Comedian – it’s good to see such old faces return and new ones leave an impression. I think the second half of the story with the focus on the Supermen Theory is better. There is a greater feel of drama and tension which leads to a good, if quick, conclusion. Comparing this to previous Crisis stories, this is certainly up there with Crisis on Infinite Earths and Infinite Crisis. While Watchmen puritans will likely not approve of this tale, such a crossover could have been far worse.
Doomsday Clock marks the 300th post on this blog. What an adventure it has been. From Morrison’s JLA and Grell’s Green Arrow through to Giffen/Dematteis’s Justice League and Robinson’s Starman, the number of comics reviewed is well into the thousands. Post 300 has always felt like the natural place to end the blog. After all, Doomsday Clock is also the most recent DC ‘Crisis’ event, and I have little interest in any of DC’s modern output frankly. But perhaps there are a few more stories I could look at. Keep your eyes peeled in 2025…
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