Watchmen (2019): Season 1, Episode 8 - A God Walks into Abar - full transcript
Angela's mysterious past in Vietnam is at last revealed.
People who wear
masks are driven by trauma.
They're obsessed with justice
because of some injustice
they suffered,
usually when they were kids.
Welcome back.
Dr. Manhattan is here, walking
amongst us as a human being.
Are you the one who put that
idea in my grandfather's head?
Actually, he put it in mine.
In less than an hour,
they're going to capture
Dr. Manhattan,
and they're going
to destroy him.
And then, they're going
to become him.
That's the craziest shit
I've ever heard.
I just told you
Dr. Manhattan is here,
walking amongst us
as a human being,
and you never asked me
who he is.
Time to come out of the tunnel.
We always knew that this day
would come.
‐You're not yourself.
‐No, John. You're not yourself.
My name is not John.
I am so sorry.
Hey, baby.
We're in fuckin' trouble.
‐
‐
What?
Would you have dinner
with me tomorrow night?
No.
‐I brought you a beer.
‐You can see I'm a cop.
Yes.
And I'm telling you to go
and you're not going.
‐Did you tell me to go?
‐lt was implied.
If I can guess why you're
here drinking all alone,
‐will you let me join you?
‐Sure.
Why am I drinking all alone?
You're commemorating the
anniversary of your parents' death.
Have a seat.
Thank you.
So, who at the precinct
told you to come over here?
I haven't spoken
to anyone at the precinct.
‐Then who told you about my parents?
‐You did.
‐I did not.
‐You will.
In about
20 minutes.
‐But I didn't tell you yet?
‐Correct.
Then how did you already know?
I'm Dr. Manhattan.
Obviously.
You're dubious?
Oh, I'm not dubious.
I'm just wondering
why the actual Dr. Manhattan
is wearing
a Dr. Manhattan mask.
I don't wanna be recognized.
Is this a Zeus thing?
A Zeus thing?
The Greek god.
In all the stories,
he came down from Olympus,
trying to get laid,
but he turned himself into
a swan or something to blend in.
I'm guessing you
popped down here
to Saigon from Mars,
20 years after you
abandoned humanity.
That's not me on Mars.
‐Oh?
‐lt's a recording of me,
carrying out a series
of predetermined patterns,
like a computer program.
It's a decoy so that people
will think it's you on Mars.
Exactly.
Then where have you been
for the past 20 years?
On Europa.
‐lt's a moon of Jupiter.
‐Oh, that Europa.
And what were you doing there?
Uh, technically,
what am I doing there.
I don't get it.
The way I experience
time is unique,
and for you, particularly,
infuriating.
That said, I am,
simultaneously,
in this bar, having
a conversation with you,
and on Europa, creating life.
Ah.
And how does one create life?
I do it with a wave of my hand.
‐
‐
Dr. Manhattan:
It's 1985.
A gossamer sheet
of vapory atmosphere
thickens into an azure blanket.
Parched tundra becomes
fertile savanna.
Vast swards of green spreading
across the moon's arid skin
like a verdant rash.
A primordial ocean transmutes
into a liquid creation engine.
I step out onto
the amniotic lake,
a hatchery stocked
with miracles,
finned, winged, and hoofed.
You walk on water?
Occasionally, yes.
Cool.
You take Sunday off
when you're done?
No, the entire
process is complete
in approximately 90 seconds.
‐Typical.
‐I'm sorry?
A man creating life
in under two minutes.
Dr. Manhattan:
Oh, a sex joke.
‐That's funny.
‐Thanks.
So, what about Adam and Eve?
You create them, too?
Adam and Eve are
fictional characters.
On Europa, I did it for real.
I knitted their bodies from
the microbes in the water.
Two infants
that by virtue of
accelerated
biomechanical maturation
would soon become
a man and a woman.
I give them higher
brain function,
instantaneous speech,
self‐awareness.
And then I bring them
a place in which to live.
- ‐A manor house.
- ‐
You brought them a manor house?
‐Yes. I teleported it‐‐
‐To Jupiter.
‐Europa. It's‐it's a‐‐
‐Moon of Jupiter.
‐You mentioned that.
‐You're still dubious.
I'm just wondering why you
zapped a house across the galaxy
when you can make one yourself?
The manor is a special place,
a place I'm connected
to from my childhood.
I feel safe there.
Because you're
a child right now.
Yes, right now.
Angela: All at the same time,
you're talking to me here,
and you're creating life
on a moon of Jupiter,
and you're growing up
in a manor
in the English countryside?
Dr. Manhattan: Actually,
I'm raised in Heidelberg, Germany,
until my mother falls in love with
an officer of the SS and leaves us.
My father is
of Jewish ancestry.
Fearing for our lives,
he and I flee for England.
There are rumors that
the lord and lady of the manor
will take in those
in need of help
before we travel
to the New World.
Angela: Mm‐hmm.
When is this happening?
Dr. Manhattan:
1936.
My father was
repairing a watch.
At least it's something
that he can fix.
I wander the hallways
of this strange place.
It will be years before I study
the electromagnetic
spectrum of infrared light,
but I can't help but wonder
if I've become invisible.
Something catches my eye‐‐
a sealed atmosphere
unto itself.
I don't realize it
at the time, but later,
this will inspire me
to create a jar of my own
‐on Europa.
‐
In 1936,
parents do not talk
to their children about sex.
There, in the darkness
of a closet,
I have no idea what
I am seeing or hearing.
But whatever these two
are doing to one another,
it is overwhelmingly joyful.
This is the first time
I know love.
Now, here are
some new faces.
Welcome.
‐My name is Hans Osterman.
‐Hans.
Thank you deeply
for opening your home.
Introduce yourself.
- ‐Jon.
- ‐
Eyes up.
‐Hello, Jon.
‐Hello.
Hans, might we talk
to Jon in private?
We like to get to know all the
children during their stay here.
We know you saw us
in the bedroom.
And it's all right.
What we were doing...
Good Lord...
What you witnessed...
was a good thing.
It was a beautiful thing.
We were creating a life.
You see, we, uh...
We had a son,
he would've been about your age.
But he, uh...
he‐he fell ill and died.
Such was God's will.
And it is God's will
for us to try again.
Jon, this is for you.
Do you own a bible?
No. Papa does not
believe in this.
Oh, well, that's all right.
These are still very
beautiful stories.
The first one is called
"Genesis."
And it's about
how God created the world.
You see, there was a time when
there was nothing at all, and...
he made everything.
The sky, the seas,
he even made people.
And they were called
Adam and Eve.
What if we made a trade?
You could do us a favor
in return for the bible.
When you leave
this place,
long after, when you grow
into a man in America...
make it your purpose to create
something beautiful.
‐Will you do that for us, Jon?
‐All right.
Then say it, Jon.
I will create
something beautiful.
Dr. Manhattan:
Seven decades later,
and 390 million miles away,
I fulfill my promise.
I'm creating
something beautiful.
Within the pocket of
atmosphere I synthesized,
and before the very
structures they lived
and died in decades earlier,
I made Adam and Eve,
not in my own image,
but in theirs.
Angela:
Wow.
I gotta tell you, man,
you have a fantastic
imagination.
What, you got something
caught in your throat?
Dr. Manhattan: Six months from
now, a friend is telling me
I have a profound
lack of imagination.
You have friends?
Perhaps he's more
of a colleague.
He tried to kill me once.
Wonder why.
So, tell me,
if you went through
all this trouble
to create the Garden of Eden,
then why'd you leave?
So I could meet you.
Come on, man.
I love you.
Oh!
We just met.
When the fuck did you
fall in love with me?
I was already
in love with you.
Before you even saw me?
I don't...
experience the concept
of "before."
So, there's no moment?
‐Moment?
‐A moment.
When you realize,
"Oh shit, I'm in love."
For example,
I'm looking at you,
hiding behind your mask,
and I'm having the opposite
of that moment.
Hmm. You might be
pretty good‐looking
if you didn't cover
yourself in blue makeup.
It's not makeup.
‐You're naturally blue.
‐That's right.
I thought Dr. Manhattan glows.
I could if I wanted to,
but it would attract
too much attention.
Come on. Nobody in here
is gonna notice.
Just glow a little bit.
I'd rather you remain unsure
before you agree to have
dinner with me tomorrow night.
My blue friend,
you think you may
know all about me,
but you have made a critical
error in your approach.
I hate Dr. Manhattan.
Why?
Forty years ago,
Nixon comes to Big Blue,
asks him to go to Vietnam.
Manhattan goes,
100 feet tall.
Torches the Vietcong
with lasers from his hands.
A little boy watches
his village burn.
Boy grows up,
becomes a puppeteer because
he wants to hold the strings.
He makes a bomb.
That bomb kills my parents
22 years ago tonight.
Tonight is...
the anniversary
of your parents' death?
You knew that.
You said it before you sat down.
Yes, but you just told me now.
As for Vietnam,
I was trying to be what
people wanted me to be.
A soldier, superhero, a savior.
I tried to do
the right thing, and...
if it's any consolation,
I do regret it.
Aha.
Then you must've known that
you would end up regretting it
before you did it.
So, why do it anyway?
Haven't you ever done anything
you knew you were gonna regret?
Maybe.
Then will you have dinner
with me tomorrow night?
Well, you know everything
that's gonna happen.
Am I having dinner
with you tomorrow night?
‐Yes.
‐lncorrect.
Tonight, you fit in
with all the other
drunk Manhattan wannabes,
stumbling around for VVN.
But tomorrow, you're gonna stick
out like a sore blue thumb.
If I walk into
a restaurant with you,
people are gonna stare, man.
Why go to a restaurant when
I can teleport you anywhere?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
That sounds great.
But eventually,
we're gonna have to go out, in public.
So, how you gonna pull
that off, Doc?
Dr. Manhattan: Actually, you've come
up with a rather elegant solution
to the problem of my appearance.
‐Have I?
‐Yes.
You're explaining
it to me right now.
Actually, for you...
two weeks from right now.
Dao Van Noi. 26.
Accidental gas leak.
No next of kin.
Michael Declan. Age 36.
Heroin overdose.
No next of kin.
William Heath. Age 33.
Killed himself.
No next of kin.
Lived alone, died alone,
and in 48 hours,
they're all gonna be cremated.
Ashes floating over Saigon.
Pick one.
I could actually look like
anyone you want, Angela.
Why limit it
to just these men?
Because they're real.
They have birth certificates,
Social Security numbers,
passports,
everything that you need
to exist in this world, so pick.
I don't care
what I look like.
Whatever form
I take is the one
you should be
comfortable with.
Well, I don't care either.
Then, you should have no problem
choosing one of these men.
Unless, for some reason,
you have yet to...
present all of the options.
His name is
Calvin Jelani.
He just
dropped dead.
Probably a heart attack.
There's no family to pay
for an autopsy, so...
Dr. Manhattan:
Ashes over Saigon.
I'd be comfortable with him.
I like the name.
Calvin.
What do you think?
You sound different.
My vocal cords loosened
in the transformation.
‐Shall I adjust them back?
‐No! Uh, I'm good.
You...
forgot your thing.
I'm going to forget
so much more.
A conversation
for another time.
‐I have an elegant solution?
‐Yes.
Okay, what is it?
‐I can't tell you.
‐Why not?
Because then
it won't be your idea.
Man, you have got
this shit down.
‐Thank you.
‐So, you can see the future,
but you just won't tell me
about it.
Dr. Manhattan: I'm not seeing the
future, I'm experiencing it.
Uh‐huh. And you're
experiencing tomorrow night,
‐and you and me are having dinner?
‐Right.
Wrong.
But I'll play.
So, after dinner,
‐how long are we together?
‐Ten years.
Hmm, that seems manageable.
I'll still be young.
I can fall in love again.
How does it end?
Dr. Manhattan:
Tragically.
You wanna be
a little more specific?
Dr. Manhattan:
I'd rather not.
So, 10 years, tragic ending,
I can roll with that.
But I'm still not convinced.
Dr. Manhattan:
Convinced of what?
That you know
what's gonna happen next.
Dr. Manhattan: Your favorite song
is about to play on the jukebox,
right... now.
Oh my God. Holy shit.
The tunnel,
the tunnel with you...
I have never even heard
this song before.
Dr. Manhattan: It's called "Tunnel
of Love," and now it's your favorite.
Wow.
You don't know shit
about the future.
But you are funny.
Dr. Manhattan: You find it amusing
now, but in six months,
it's the reason
you're telling me to leave.
‐I thought we were together 10 years.
‐We are.
Then, what happens
in six months?
Dr. Manhattan: It's happening right now.
We're making love.
Hmm. It doesn't sound like
I'm telling you to leave.
Not yet.
Right now,
you're asking where I am.
Where are you?
Cal:
I'm in the bar...
the night we met.
Just before
I created the egg.
I'm telling you about
the fight we're gonna have.
‐Shut up.
‐That you're telling me to leave.
‐Angela: Shut up,
shut up, shut up. ‐All right.
God damn it.
We are not gonna fight
because I'm not gonna
tell you to leave.
We are and...
you will.
I'm sorry, but it's
already occurring.
‐Do you wanna fight?
‐No,
but the fight will still
happen regardless of my intent.
Not if we don't let it.
You knew this about me.
Who I am, how I perceive things.
I told you the very
first night we met,
knowing that it would
lead to this argument.
‐We are not in an argument.
‐We're close.
And now, you say...
Both: Don't tell me what
I'm gonna fucking say!
This is not fair.
If we're not
gonna be together,
then why are we even
fucking together?
It makes no sense.
Until now, my ability
to know the future
was immensely reassuring to you.
It gave you a sense
of safety and stability
that you never had
growing up in the orphanage.
‐Uh‐uh. ‐Was your childhood not
filled with the constant fear
‐that you would never have a family?
‐Don't you dare‐‐
‐Because yours was taken
away from you? ‐Stop!
We're in the fight now.
Yeah, we fucking are.
What do you know about fear?
‐When was the last time you
were even afraid? ‐lt's 1959.
I'm in Gila Flats, New Mexico.
I left my watch inside
the intrinsic field chamber,
and now I'm locked inside,
fully aware that when
the countdown ends,
my skin will burn
off of my body.
So, 50 years?
The last time you were
afraid was 50 years ago?
No, Angela.
I'm being torn apart right now.
And then you put yourself
back together, piece by piece,
and then you were
never scared again.
Because if you know everything
that's gonna happen,
what is there
to be afraid of?
What is there to risk?
I'm taking a risk.
I've been taking
a risk every day
since you walked up
to me in that bar.
What the fuck are you doing?
I'm sorry.
Do you need me to say it?
Yes.
Leave.
Our guardian star
Lost all his glow
The day that I lost you
He lost all his glitter
The day you said no
Like him, I am doubtful
That your love is true
But if you decide
To call on me
Ask for Mr. Blue
I'm Mr. Blue
Waa‐ooh‐waa‐ooh
When you say you love me
Mr. Blue
Then prove it
by going out on the sly
Proving your
love isn't true
Call me Mr. Blue
I'm Mr. Blue
When you say
you're sorry...
- ‐Reactor meltdown.
- ‐
Idiots!
Gave them every opportunity.
Solar, wind, wireless
power transmission.
Why, oh why
do they need to keep to making
their godforsaken bombs?
This may appear
paradoxical, but...
they make them
feel safe.
Nice to see you again, Jon.
It's nice to see
you, too, Adrian.
How did you
know it was me?
Because only Dr. Manhattan
would have the balls
to show up here
wearing nothing
but his birthday suit.
Should I put something on?
‐ ‐Welcome
back to Antarctica, Jon.
I do appreciate
this visit.
‐How long has it been?
‐For you, 24 years,
41 days,
and 13 hours.
‐For me, it's happening‐‐ ‐Right
now, yes, yes, I remember.
So, Jon,
what am I saying to you,
24 years, 41 days,
and 13 hours ago?
You've just attempted
to destroy me.
I'm telling you that
I'm disappointed in you.
Right.
Sorry about that.
Now, you're explaining that you
just killed three million people.
"Morally, you're in checkmate,"
you're telling me.
I was gambling.
Gambling?
That you had morals.
Still fabricating
alien incursions, I see.
And maintaining world peace,
one cephalopod at a time.
It's quite an interesting
form you've...
decided to take.
Interesting?
It's not the '80s anymore, Jon.
This kind of appropriation
is considered quite...
problematic now.
It's 2009, Doctor.
A lot has changed
while you were on Europa.
How do you know I was on Europa?
A little elephant told me.
What I don't know...
is why a blue man is
masquerading as a hu‐man.
Though, I might venture
an educated guess.
What's her name?
Angela.
Love.
Well...
let me guess again.
‐
‐You're wearing this face
because she has no idea
you're the most omnipotent being
in the history
of civilization,
whereas you just want her
to love you for you.
I told her who I was
the moment I met her.
She knows who you are?
Yes.
Ah!
That's the rub.
Because who
in their right mind
would want to be
romantically linked to a god?
So, you don't just want
to look like a mortal,
you wanna be one.
Will you help me?
Why can't you do it yourself?
You tell me, Adrian.
Because...
you have a profound
lack of imagination.
I gotta give it to you, man,
you have a fantastic
imagination.
- You laugh now!
- Wow!
This Angela must be
quite something.
Six months ago,
she's telling me
I have a fantastic
imagination.
Tell me something.
Do you have a brain?
‐I'm sorry?
‐Well, you seem to have replicated
basic human physiognomy,
but, uh,
what about the physiology?
You do have a brain,
‐internal organs, blood?
‐Yes.
‐Yeah.
‐Why?
Well...
theoretically,
we could insert a device
into your prefrontal cortex
that would short circuit
your memory.
Without the awareness
of your abilities,
you wouldn't know to use them!
Ah! Except, perhaps, as a reflex
in life‐threatening
situations.
You could walk and talk
and live among
the normals undetected.
You just wouldn't know
you were Dr. Manhattan.
And how long would it take
for you to make this... device?
Oh, my dear, sweet Jon.
I made it 30 years ago.
As you reminded me earlier, Jon,
I did try to destroy you.
But the intrinsic
field subtractor
that I lured you
into was, in fact,
Plan B.
B for blowing you up.
Tell me, Jon,
do you know what is inside this?
Actually, I don't.
Because I irradiated it
with tachyon particles,
one small part of the universe
even you can't see,
a blind spot.
This, Jon...
is Plan A.
A for amnesia.
Now, you tell your Angela...
to put this here.
The effect should be immediate.
You'll forget who you are,
what you can do,
and everything that's
ever happened to you.
So, if you have any
business to finish,
now would be the time
to finish it.
Angela has a grandfather
that she's not yet aware of.
He and I have
matters to discuss.
Well, best discuss them now,
while you still know
you are you.
Thank you, Adrian.
I'll do that.
No, there's one thing
that I'd like in exchange.
I saved the world from...
nuclear Armageddon, Jon.
Aside from you and a select few,
nobody knows.
My plans
for a great future...
ignored.
I once asked you, Jon,
whether...
it was all worth it in the end.
You avoided answering
by saying...
"Nothing... ever ends."
Tell me now, Jon,
will I live to see my utopia?
Yes.
But not here.
I don't understand.
I sought to...
create a kind of
life that was...
superior to the life
here on Earth.
Kinder, gentler.
Beings who are designed
to care for others
instead of themselves.
And I did it, Adrian.
I did it on Europa.
It's a beautiful place.
Verdant and untouched,
teeming with life,
completely devoid of conflict.
But all they want is
to please me, to adore me.
Their love is infinite,
which is the very reason
it's so unsatisfying,
which means that I must leave
my creations behind.
They're still there,
just waiting
for someone to worship.
Sounds like... paradise.
Would you like me
to send you there, Adrian?
Yes, Jon.
I would like that.
Godspeed.
I just push it
into your head?
Yes.
I'll make myself
intangible.
Be sure to withdraw
your hand very quickly.
How do you know
it's gonna work?
I don't.
That's what makes
it a risk.
Are you gonna forget
how to speak or walk?
No. My understanding
is that
it will only
affect my memory.
Perhaps you could tell me
I was in some kind of accident.
We should leave Vietnam,
start over
where nobody knows us.
I can be a cop anywhere.
How about Tulsa?
It's where my family's from.
I think that's a great idea.
Of course you do,
it's yours.
Actually, it was yours.
What's wrong?
If you forget everything,
will you still be you?
My memories may be lost,
Angela...
but you won't be losing me.
Okay, you're losing me, man.
And you're not giving me
a lot to work with here,
Dr. Manhattan,
so dinner tomorrow night
is gonna be a hard no
unless I get some proof.
Dr. Manhattan:
Do you have anything in mind?
You said you can create life.
Create some life right now.
Dr. Manhattan:
All right.
We're in the tunnel,
the tunnel, the tunnel
We're in the tunnel, the
tunnel, the tunnel with you...
‐That's it?
‐lt is technically life.
A chicken would've been better.
Dr. Manhattan: But you will
still have dinner with me?
No, but I am interested
in hearing more about
these 10 glorious years we're
together before tragedy strikes.
Dr. Manhattan:
What would you like to know?
‐Do we have any kids?
‐Dr. Manhattan: Yes, three,
a boy and two girls.
Hmm, are they, like, half gods?
Dr. Manhattan: I would never pass my abilities
on to someone without their consent.
So, that's a thing you can do?
Give someone your powers?
I suppose I could transfer
my atomic components
into some sort of
organic material.
If someone were to consume it,
they would inherit
my powers.
So, you can put them
in this egg,
and if I ate it,
I could walk on water?
Dr. Manhattan:
Theoretically, yes.
Well, I don't want kids.
I've never wanted kids,
and I'm never gonna have kids,
so sorry, Doc,
you're gonna have to find
another egg to knock up.
Dr. Manhattan: They're not
our biological children.
They're... adopted.
Where do we adopt them?
Tulsa.
‐What?
‐Tulsa, Oklahoma.
It's where your
family's from.
‐Who told you that?
‐You did.
Uh‐uh. No, I didn't.
Dr. Manhattan: You will, six months
from now, when I give you the ring.
Ring?
Now, we're getting engaged?
Dr. Manhattan:
In a manner of speaking, yes.
But this is after the big fight,
when I tell you to leave?
‐Yes.
‐Okay. So then,
these three kids,
how long are we living
in Tulsa before we adopt them?
Dr. Manhattan:
That, I don't know.
What do you mean you don't know?
I thought you know everything?
Dr. Manhattan: There's a
period of time I cannot see.
When I try to look,
there's only darkness.
All I know is that you are there
before it begins,
and you're there
when it ends.
Why are you smiling?
Nothing.
It's just what you said.
Just sounds a lot like a tunnel.
A tunnel of love.
The tunnel of love.
Ten years, huh?
Then tragedy?
That's right.
But you're not gonna
tell me what happens?
I won't.
Maybe I should leave
this thing in your brain.
That way, you won't know
how it all ends up.
I leave it entirely
in your hands.
You wanna get down on one knee?
I do.
It's just a matter
Of time
I love you.
I love you, too.
Angela:
Hey, baby.
We're in fucking trouble.
Cal?
Jon?
Are you okay?
Jon?
Jon?
We're in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
It's 2019.
I had to wake you up...
because you're in danger.
The people here,
they're bad people.
They know
who you are,
and they're coming
to hurt you.
Do you know
who you are?
You still have his face.
Jon, the kids are upstairs.
You can't look
like this, okay?
You need to change back.
No...
‐I need to move forward.
‐What do you mean?
‐Jon, we don't have time for this
shit‐‐ ‐This clock is damaged.
Do you remember what
happened? How it broke?
Dr. Manhattan:
It is Christmas.
A man in a mask
kicks in the door.
You push me down.
The bullet hits the clock.
There were two of them.
One of them was about to shoot me
in the kitchen,
but you zapped him away.
‐
‐Veidt: Without
the awareness of
your abilities,
you wouldn't know to use them!
Ah! Except perhaps as a reflex
in life‐threatening
situations.
Thank you, Adrian.
Now, I understand
what happened.
Adrian...
Who are you talking to?
I'm sorry, Angela.
This must be frustrating for you.
I'm experiencing confusion
as a result of the device
being removed, and I'm not
entirely sure when I am.
Would you excuse me
for a moment, please?
‐
‐
‐Motherfucker‐‐
‐Girls: Daddy! Daddy!
Oh, shit.
Daddy! Daddy!
Mom?
‐Daddy!
‐Angela: It's okay! It's okay!
What's happening?
‐There's a blue man on
our swimming pool! ‐Look!
He looks like Cal.
That's because he is.
Motherfucker.
Where are they?
Where did you send them?
It's all right.
They're safe.
No. Uh‐uh.
Get the fuck up
off the pool
and tell me where
they are right now.
‐You need to see me on the pool.
‐Why?
It's important
for later.
Okay. I've seen it.
Now, tell me where
you sent our children.
They're with
your grandfather.
What?!
They're at
the Dreamland Theatre
in downtown Tulsa right now.
It's all right, your grandfather
was expecting them.
When did you talk
to my grandfather?
Ten years ago,
I'm standing in Karnak.
Veidt is offering
me the device,
and he's telling me...
So, if you have any
unfinished business...
now's the time to finish it.
And so, I teleport
to New York City.
I'm walking up to a mansion
once owned by Nelson Gardner,
- ‐also known as Captain Metropolis...
- ‐
the leader of the Minutemen.
When he died years ago,
he bequeathed this property
to an old acquaintance.
My prayer...
Mr. Reeves, hello.
My name is Jon Osterman.
Is that supposed to mean
something to me?
Oh.
You may know me better
as Dr. Manhattan.
In a dream that's divine
My prayer
Is a rapture
With a world far away...
May we talk
for a moment?
Tonight while our hearts...
Yeah.
All right.
Oh, tell me the words
That I'm longing to know...
Aren't you supposed
to be blue?
I recently made some
changes in my life.
I'm about to make a few more,
which is why I wanted
to speak with you.
Mr. Reeves...
Our lives have become entangled
in a most profound way
through someone known
to both of us.
But the future is uncertain,
and my ability
to influence events
is limited.
In order to ensure
an optimal outcome,
I would like to form
an alliance.
You wanna team up with me?
You are Hooded Justice.
‐A hero. ‐Oh,
that's what this is all about.
Want me to put on
a goddamn mask, huh?
No.
This is about Angela.
Angela?
Your granddaughter.
I don't have a granddaughter.
But you had a son.
Hmm.
He had a daughter,
which makes her
your granddaughter.
Oh. That's how that
works out, huh?
I met her
in Vietnam.
We are in love.
Soon, we will marry
and move to Tulsa,
where she'll be
a police officer.
I don't know why the hell
she'd wanna go to Tulsa.
I'm not sure she knows yet,
but I suspect it's
because she senses
it is where she comes from.
‐What the hell you want with me?
‐Nothing.
But Angela does.
She wants your help.
She doesn't even know I exist.
That is because you choose
to let her be ignorant
to your existence.
‐No, she don't want me in her life.
‐She does.
What the fuck do you know?
I know the moment I first see
her, I sense profound emptiness...
and loss.
I know because she says
over and over again
that she doesn't
want a family,
yet it is clear
through her actions
that it is all that she wants.
I know because I'm talking
to her right now.
You're talking
with him right now?
Relatively, yes.
For you it's right now,
but for him,
it's 10 years ago.
That's right.
You're talking
to her right now?
Relatively, yes.
Can you ask him something?
‐Of course.
‐Ask him
how did he know Judd Crawford
was a part of Cyclops.
Ask him how did he know
there was a fucking Klan robe
hidden in his closet.
She wants to know how
you knew Judd Crawford
was a member of Cyclops,
and how you knew
he had a Klan robe
hidden in his closet.
Who's Judd Crawford?
He said he doesn't know
who Judd Crawford is.
But he does now.
No... No, no, no, shit!
Did I start all this?
Did I send my grandfather here?
Is this my fault?
I'm confused.
You're confused?
Isn't it a good thing
that Judd Crawford is dead?
Does it matter where
the idea came from?
Yes, it matters.
I only asked
the old man about Crawford
because he murdered him.
Hmm...
The chicken or the egg.
What?
The paradox.
Which came first,
the chicken or the egg?
The answer appears
to be both.
At exactly the same time.
I'm hungry.
Motherfucker!
What the hell are you doing?
Making waffles.
Watch the eggs.
God damn it, Jon!
We don't have
time for this!
I woke you up because
the Kavalry knows who you are,
and they are coming for you.
You might have an alliance
with my grandfather,
but he has one with Lady Trieu,
and I'm pretty sure
she knows who you are, too.
So, stop
fucking around‐‐
They're already here.
‐What?
‐The 7th Kavalry.
They're in a truck
parked across the street.
On the back of the truck
is a tachyonic cannon,
which they will use
to involuntarily teleport me,
and then destroy me.
They've been here
all this time,
and you're just now
telling me?
There were more important
matters to discuss.
They wanna kill you!
‐Yes. ‐So then,
let's fuckin' stop them!
We can't.
‐Why not?
‐We can't stop them.
‐There's nothing we can do.
‐There's something I can do.
What?
‐This is the moment.
‐What moment?
I just told you that
you can't save me,
and you're gonna
try to anyway.
In the bar the night
we met, you asked me
about the moment
I fell in love with you.
This is the moment.
Is that supposed
to be romantic?
‐Sorry? ‐All this time
we've been together,
and you fall in
love with me now?
No. I've always been
in love with you.
‐My perception of time‐‐
‐Yeah, I get it.
You stay here
while I save your life.
- ‐Hey!
- ‐
‐
‐
‐
‐
‐
‐
Fuck! Fuck!
We win.
You were wrong.
No, Angela.
I wasn't.
What?
‐
‐I'm sorry.
‐
‐
Jon!
I can't keep calling
you Dr. Manhattan.
What's your first name?
Dr. Manhattan:
It's Jon.
No H.
Jon with no H.
‐I'm Angela.
‐I know.
Yes, of course you do.
So, we spend 10 years
in the tunnel of love,
and once we're out,
something terrible happens?
That's right.
But you won't tell
me what that is?
Dr. Manhattan:
I won't.
Okay, Jon.
It was really nice
talking to you.
Definitely one of the more
interesting
conversations I've had,
but I cannot get serious
with someone if...
I know it's just
gonna end in tragedy.
By definition, don't all
relationships end in tragedy?
Yeah. Guess you have a point.
Then will you have
dinner with me
tomorrow night?
Fuck it. Why not?
I want her right now
I want the little
girl any way
I want her any how
I want a woman
I want a lover
I want a friend
A woman, a lover, a friend
Oh
I don't want a fancy gal
With powder and paint
And I don't want a woman
Who thinks she's a saint
I'm looking for someone
Who's not make‐believe
And doesn't mind giving
So that she may receive
There must be somebody
Somewhere around
That's looking for someone
To give pound for pound
I want me a woman
Mm, I want a lover
I want a friend
A woman, a lover, a friend
Yeah
I want her right now
I want the little
girl anyway...
Crookshanks:
Will you stay, Master?
Veidt: No.
Philips:
Will you stay, Master?
Veidt: No.
Crookshanks:
Will you stay, Master?
Veidt: No.
Philips:
Will you stay, Master?
‐No.
‐
Will you stay, Master?
No.
‐
‐
If you sing "For He's
a Jolly Good Fellow,"
I'll vomit all
over your boots.
Philips and Crookshanks insisted
on preparing this for you.
Mm, before or after
they repeatedly
smashed tomatoes
in my face?
An action they would
certainly desist on performing
if you agreed to stay.
If I didn't know better,
I'd assume you want to suffer.
Do you know better?
Would you like me
to get you another book?
No. I like this one.
Why?
You wouldn't understand.
It's about loneliness.
I understand loneliness.
'Cause your big
blue daddy left
to get a pack of cigarettes
and never came back?
I was here.
The very first to emerge
from the water.
I was here when he put
light in the sky
and air in my lungs.
I saw grass sprout
from dead earth,
and soon after, I saw him bring
the beasts forth
to graze upon it.
He made Heaven
before my very eyes.
Why is Heaven not enough?
This is not my home.
My home is
390 million miles away.
And my children...
all eight million of them
are undoubtedly
standing in their cribs,
crying out in desperation
for me to return.
Heaven is not enough because...
Heaven doesn't need me.
Enjoy your fucking cake.
masks are driven by trauma.
They're obsessed with justice
because of some injustice
they suffered,
usually when they were kids.
Welcome back.
Dr. Manhattan is here, walking
amongst us as a human being.
Are you the one who put that
idea in my grandfather's head?
Actually, he put it in mine.
In less than an hour,
they're going to capture
Dr. Manhattan,
and they're going
to destroy him.
And then, they're going
to become him.
That's the craziest shit
I've ever heard.
I just told you
Dr. Manhattan is here,
walking amongst us
as a human being,
and you never asked me
who he is.
Time to come out of the tunnel.
We always knew that this day
would come.
‐You're not yourself.
‐No, John. You're not yourself.
My name is not John.
I am so sorry.
Hey, baby.
We're in fuckin' trouble.
‐
‐
What?
Would you have dinner
with me tomorrow night?
No.
‐I brought you a beer.
‐You can see I'm a cop.
Yes.
And I'm telling you to go
and you're not going.
‐Did you tell me to go?
‐lt was implied.
If I can guess why you're
here drinking all alone,
‐will you let me join you?
‐Sure.
Why am I drinking all alone?
You're commemorating the
anniversary of your parents' death.
Have a seat.
Thank you.
So, who at the precinct
told you to come over here?
I haven't spoken
to anyone at the precinct.
‐Then who told you about my parents?
‐You did.
‐I did not.
‐You will.
In about
20 minutes.
‐But I didn't tell you yet?
‐Correct.
Then how did you already know?
I'm Dr. Manhattan.
Obviously.
You're dubious?
Oh, I'm not dubious.
I'm just wondering
why the actual Dr. Manhattan
is wearing
a Dr. Manhattan mask.
I don't wanna be recognized.
Is this a Zeus thing?
A Zeus thing?
The Greek god.
In all the stories,
he came down from Olympus,
trying to get laid,
but he turned himself into
a swan or something to blend in.
I'm guessing you
popped down here
to Saigon from Mars,
20 years after you
abandoned humanity.
That's not me on Mars.
‐Oh?
‐lt's a recording of me,
carrying out a series
of predetermined patterns,
like a computer program.
It's a decoy so that people
will think it's you on Mars.
Exactly.
Then where have you been
for the past 20 years?
On Europa.
‐lt's a moon of Jupiter.
‐Oh, that Europa.
And what were you doing there?
Uh, technically,
what am I doing there.
I don't get it.
The way I experience
time is unique,
and for you, particularly,
infuriating.
That said, I am,
simultaneously,
in this bar, having
a conversation with you,
and on Europa, creating life.
Ah.
And how does one create life?
I do it with a wave of my hand.
‐
‐
Dr. Manhattan:
It's 1985.
A gossamer sheet
of vapory atmosphere
thickens into an azure blanket.
Parched tundra becomes
fertile savanna.
Vast swards of green spreading
across the moon's arid skin
like a verdant rash.
A primordial ocean transmutes
into a liquid creation engine.
I step out onto
the amniotic lake,
a hatchery stocked
with miracles,
finned, winged, and hoofed.
You walk on water?
Occasionally, yes.
Cool.
You take Sunday off
when you're done?
No, the entire
process is complete
in approximately 90 seconds.
‐Typical.
‐I'm sorry?
A man creating life
in under two minutes.
Dr. Manhattan:
Oh, a sex joke.
‐That's funny.
‐Thanks.
So, what about Adam and Eve?
You create them, too?
Adam and Eve are
fictional characters.
On Europa, I did it for real.
I knitted their bodies from
the microbes in the water.
Two infants
that by virtue of
accelerated
biomechanical maturation
would soon become
a man and a woman.
I give them higher
brain function,
instantaneous speech,
self‐awareness.
And then I bring them
a place in which to live.
- ‐A manor house.
- ‐
You brought them a manor house?
‐Yes. I teleported it‐‐
‐To Jupiter.
‐Europa. It's‐it's a‐‐
‐Moon of Jupiter.
‐You mentioned that.
‐You're still dubious.
I'm just wondering why you
zapped a house across the galaxy
when you can make one yourself?
The manor is a special place,
a place I'm connected
to from my childhood.
I feel safe there.
Because you're
a child right now.
Yes, right now.
Angela: All at the same time,
you're talking to me here,
and you're creating life
on a moon of Jupiter,
and you're growing up
in a manor
in the English countryside?
Dr. Manhattan: Actually,
I'm raised in Heidelberg, Germany,
until my mother falls in love with
an officer of the SS and leaves us.
My father is
of Jewish ancestry.
Fearing for our lives,
he and I flee for England.
There are rumors that
the lord and lady of the manor
will take in those
in need of help
before we travel
to the New World.
Angela: Mm‐hmm.
When is this happening?
Dr. Manhattan:
1936.
My father was
repairing a watch.
At least it's something
that he can fix.
I wander the hallways
of this strange place.
It will be years before I study
the electromagnetic
spectrum of infrared light,
but I can't help but wonder
if I've become invisible.
Something catches my eye‐‐
a sealed atmosphere
unto itself.
I don't realize it
at the time, but later,
this will inspire me
to create a jar of my own
‐on Europa.
‐
In 1936,
parents do not talk
to their children about sex.
There, in the darkness
of a closet,
I have no idea what
I am seeing or hearing.
But whatever these two
are doing to one another,
it is overwhelmingly joyful.
This is the first time
I know love.
Now, here are
some new faces.
Welcome.
‐My name is Hans Osterman.
‐Hans.
Thank you deeply
for opening your home.
Introduce yourself.
- ‐Jon.
- ‐
Eyes up.
‐Hello, Jon.
‐Hello.
Hans, might we talk
to Jon in private?
We like to get to know all the
children during their stay here.
We know you saw us
in the bedroom.
And it's all right.
What we were doing...
Good Lord...
What you witnessed...
was a good thing.
It was a beautiful thing.
We were creating a life.
You see, we, uh...
We had a son,
he would've been about your age.
But he, uh...
he‐he fell ill and died.
Such was God's will.
And it is God's will
for us to try again.
Jon, this is for you.
Do you own a bible?
No. Papa does not
believe in this.
Oh, well, that's all right.
These are still very
beautiful stories.
The first one is called
"Genesis."
And it's about
how God created the world.
You see, there was a time when
there was nothing at all, and...
he made everything.
The sky, the seas,
he even made people.
And they were called
Adam and Eve.
What if we made a trade?
You could do us a favor
in return for the bible.
When you leave
this place,
long after, when you grow
into a man in America...
make it your purpose to create
something beautiful.
‐Will you do that for us, Jon?
‐All right.
Then say it, Jon.
I will create
something beautiful.
Dr. Manhattan:
Seven decades later,
and 390 million miles away,
I fulfill my promise.
I'm creating
something beautiful.
Within the pocket of
atmosphere I synthesized,
and before the very
structures they lived
and died in decades earlier,
I made Adam and Eve,
not in my own image,
but in theirs.
Angela:
Wow.
I gotta tell you, man,
you have a fantastic
imagination.
What, you got something
caught in your throat?
Dr. Manhattan: Six months from
now, a friend is telling me
I have a profound
lack of imagination.
You have friends?
Perhaps he's more
of a colleague.
He tried to kill me once.
Wonder why.
So, tell me,
if you went through
all this trouble
to create the Garden of Eden,
then why'd you leave?
So I could meet you.
Come on, man.
I love you.
Oh!
We just met.
When the fuck did you
fall in love with me?
I was already
in love with you.
Before you even saw me?
I don't...
experience the concept
of "before."
So, there's no moment?
‐Moment?
‐A moment.
When you realize,
"Oh shit, I'm in love."
For example,
I'm looking at you,
hiding behind your mask,
and I'm having the opposite
of that moment.
Hmm. You might be
pretty good‐looking
if you didn't cover
yourself in blue makeup.
It's not makeup.
‐You're naturally blue.
‐That's right.
I thought Dr. Manhattan glows.
I could if I wanted to,
but it would attract
too much attention.
Come on. Nobody in here
is gonna notice.
Just glow a little bit.
I'd rather you remain unsure
before you agree to have
dinner with me tomorrow night.
My blue friend,
you think you may
know all about me,
but you have made a critical
error in your approach.
I hate Dr. Manhattan.
Why?
Forty years ago,
Nixon comes to Big Blue,
asks him to go to Vietnam.
Manhattan goes,
100 feet tall.
Torches the Vietcong
with lasers from his hands.
A little boy watches
his village burn.
Boy grows up,
becomes a puppeteer because
he wants to hold the strings.
He makes a bomb.
That bomb kills my parents
22 years ago tonight.
Tonight is...
the anniversary
of your parents' death?
You knew that.
You said it before you sat down.
Yes, but you just told me now.
As for Vietnam,
I was trying to be what
people wanted me to be.
A soldier, superhero, a savior.
I tried to do
the right thing, and...
if it's any consolation,
I do regret it.
Aha.
Then you must've known that
you would end up regretting it
before you did it.
So, why do it anyway?
Haven't you ever done anything
you knew you were gonna regret?
Maybe.
Then will you have dinner
with me tomorrow night?
Well, you know everything
that's gonna happen.
Am I having dinner
with you tomorrow night?
‐Yes.
‐lncorrect.
Tonight, you fit in
with all the other
drunk Manhattan wannabes,
stumbling around for VVN.
But tomorrow, you're gonna stick
out like a sore blue thumb.
If I walk into
a restaurant with you,
people are gonna stare, man.
Why go to a restaurant when
I can teleport you anywhere?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
That sounds great.
But eventually,
we're gonna have to go out, in public.
So, how you gonna pull
that off, Doc?
Dr. Manhattan: Actually, you've come
up with a rather elegant solution
to the problem of my appearance.
‐Have I?
‐Yes.
You're explaining
it to me right now.
Actually, for you...
two weeks from right now.
Dao Van Noi. 26.
Accidental gas leak.
No next of kin.
Michael Declan. Age 36.
Heroin overdose.
No next of kin.
William Heath. Age 33.
Killed himself.
No next of kin.
Lived alone, died alone,
and in 48 hours,
they're all gonna be cremated.
Ashes floating over Saigon.
Pick one.
I could actually look like
anyone you want, Angela.
Why limit it
to just these men?
Because they're real.
They have birth certificates,
Social Security numbers,
passports,
everything that you need
to exist in this world, so pick.
I don't care
what I look like.
Whatever form
I take is the one
you should be
comfortable with.
Well, I don't care either.
Then, you should have no problem
choosing one of these men.
Unless, for some reason,
you have yet to...
present all of the options.
His name is
Calvin Jelani.
He just
dropped dead.
Probably a heart attack.
There's no family to pay
for an autopsy, so...
Dr. Manhattan:
Ashes over Saigon.
I'd be comfortable with him.
I like the name.
Calvin.
What do you think?
You sound different.
My vocal cords loosened
in the transformation.
‐Shall I adjust them back?
‐No! Uh, I'm good.
You...
forgot your thing.
I'm going to forget
so much more.
A conversation
for another time.
‐I have an elegant solution?
‐Yes.
Okay, what is it?
‐I can't tell you.
‐Why not?
Because then
it won't be your idea.
Man, you have got
this shit down.
‐Thank you.
‐So, you can see the future,
but you just won't tell me
about it.
Dr. Manhattan: I'm not seeing the
future, I'm experiencing it.
Uh‐huh. And you're
experiencing tomorrow night,
‐and you and me are having dinner?
‐Right.
Wrong.
But I'll play.
So, after dinner,
‐how long are we together?
‐Ten years.
Hmm, that seems manageable.
I'll still be young.
I can fall in love again.
How does it end?
Dr. Manhattan:
Tragically.
You wanna be
a little more specific?
Dr. Manhattan:
I'd rather not.
So, 10 years, tragic ending,
I can roll with that.
But I'm still not convinced.
Dr. Manhattan:
Convinced of what?
That you know
what's gonna happen next.
Dr. Manhattan: Your favorite song
is about to play on the jukebox,
right... now.
Oh my God. Holy shit.
The tunnel,
the tunnel with you...
I have never even heard
this song before.
Dr. Manhattan: It's called "Tunnel
of Love," and now it's your favorite.
Wow.
You don't know shit
about the future.
But you are funny.
Dr. Manhattan: You find it amusing
now, but in six months,
it's the reason
you're telling me to leave.
‐I thought we were together 10 years.
‐We are.
Then, what happens
in six months?
Dr. Manhattan: It's happening right now.
We're making love.
Hmm. It doesn't sound like
I'm telling you to leave.
Not yet.
Right now,
you're asking where I am.
Where are you?
Cal:
I'm in the bar...
the night we met.
Just before
I created the egg.
I'm telling you about
the fight we're gonna have.
‐Shut up.
‐That you're telling me to leave.
‐Angela: Shut up,
shut up, shut up. ‐All right.
God damn it.
We are not gonna fight
because I'm not gonna
tell you to leave.
We are and...
you will.
I'm sorry, but it's
already occurring.
‐Do you wanna fight?
‐No,
but the fight will still
happen regardless of my intent.
Not if we don't let it.
You knew this about me.
Who I am, how I perceive things.
I told you the very
first night we met,
knowing that it would
lead to this argument.
‐We are not in an argument.
‐We're close.
And now, you say...
Both: Don't tell me what
I'm gonna fucking say!
This is not fair.
If we're not
gonna be together,
then why are we even
fucking together?
It makes no sense.
Until now, my ability
to know the future
was immensely reassuring to you.
It gave you a sense
of safety and stability
that you never had
growing up in the orphanage.
‐Uh‐uh. ‐Was your childhood not
filled with the constant fear
‐that you would never have a family?
‐Don't you dare‐‐
‐Because yours was taken
away from you? ‐Stop!
We're in the fight now.
Yeah, we fucking are.
What do you know about fear?
‐When was the last time you
were even afraid? ‐lt's 1959.
I'm in Gila Flats, New Mexico.
I left my watch inside
the intrinsic field chamber,
and now I'm locked inside,
fully aware that when
the countdown ends,
my skin will burn
off of my body.
So, 50 years?
The last time you were
afraid was 50 years ago?
No, Angela.
I'm being torn apart right now.
And then you put yourself
back together, piece by piece,
and then you were
never scared again.
Because if you know everything
that's gonna happen,
what is there
to be afraid of?
What is there to risk?
I'm taking a risk.
I've been taking
a risk every day
since you walked up
to me in that bar.
What the fuck are you doing?
I'm sorry.
Do you need me to say it?
Yes.
Leave.
Our guardian star
Lost all his glow
The day that I lost you
He lost all his glitter
The day you said no
Like him, I am doubtful
That your love is true
But if you decide
To call on me
Ask for Mr. Blue
I'm Mr. Blue
Waa‐ooh‐waa‐ooh
When you say you love me
Mr. Blue
Then prove it
by going out on the sly
Proving your
love isn't true
Call me Mr. Blue
I'm Mr. Blue
When you say
you're sorry...
- ‐Reactor meltdown.
- ‐
Idiots!
Gave them every opportunity.
Solar, wind, wireless
power transmission.
Why, oh why
do they need to keep to making
their godforsaken bombs?
This may appear
paradoxical, but...
they make them
feel safe.
Nice to see you again, Jon.
It's nice to see
you, too, Adrian.
How did you
know it was me?
Because only Dr. Manhattan
would have the balls
to show up here
wearing nothing
but his birthday suit.
Should I put something on?
‐ ‐Welcome
back to Antarctica, Jon.
I do appreciate
this visit.
‐How long has it been?
‐For you, 24 years,
41 days,
and 13 hours.
‐For me, it's happening‐‐ ‐Right
now, yes, yes, I remember.
So, Jon,
what am I saying to you,
24 years, 41 days,
and 13 hours ago?
You've just attempted
to destroy me.
I'm telling you that
I'm disappointed in you.
Right.
Sorry about that.
Now, you're explaining that you
just killed three million people.
"Morally, you're in checkmate,"
you're telling me.
I was gambling.
Gambling?
That you had morals.
Still fabricating
alien incursions, I see.
And maintaining world peace,
one cephalopod at a time.
It's quite an interesting
form you've...
decided to take.
Interesting?
It's not the '80s anymore, Jon.
This kind of appropriation
is considered quite...
problematic now.
It's 2009, Doctor.
A lot has changed
while you were on Europa.
How do you know I was on Europa?
A little elephant told me.
What I don't know...
is why a blue man is
masquerading as a hu‐man.
Though, I might venture
an educated guess.
What's her name?
Angela.
Love.
Well...
let me guess again.
‐
‐You're wearing this face
because she has no idea
you're the most omnipotent being
in the history
of civilization,
whereas you just want her
to love you for you.
I told her who I was
the moment I met her.
She knows who you are?
Yes.
Ah!
That's the rub.
Because who
in their right mind
would want to be
romantically linked to a god?
So, you don't just want
to look like a mortal,
you wanna be one.
Will you help me?
Why can't you do it yourself?
You tell me, Adrian.
Because...
you have a profound
lack of imagination.
I gotta give it to you, man,
you have a fantastic
imagination.
- You laugh now!
- Wow!
This Angela must be
quite something.
Six months ago,
she's telling me
I have a fantastic
imagination.
Tell me something.
Do you have a brain?
‐I'm sorry?
‐Well, you seem to have replicated
basic human physiognomy,
but, uh,
what about the physiology?
You do have a brain,
‐internal organs, blood?
‐Yes.
‐Yeah.
‐Why?
Well...
theoretically,
we could insert a device
into your prefrontal cortex
that would short circuit
your memory.
Without the awareness
of your abilities,
you wouldn't know to use them!
Ah! Except, perhaps, as a reflex
in life‐threatening
situations.
You could walk and talk
and live among
the normals undetected.
You just wouldn't know
you were Dr. Manhattan.
And how long would it take
for you to make this... device?
Oh, my dear, sweet Jon.
I made it 30 years ago.
As you reminded me earlier, Jon,
I did try to destroy you.
But the intrinsic
field subtractor
that I lured you
into was, in fact,
Plan B.
B for blowing you up.
Tell me, Jon,
do you know what is inside this?
Actually, I don't.
Because I irradiated it
with tachyon particles,
one small part of the universe
even you can't see,
a blind spot.
This, Jon...
is Plan A.
A for amnesia.
Now, you tell your Angela...
to put this here.
The effect should be immediate.
You'll forget who you are,
what you can do,
and everything that's
ever happened to you.
So, if you have any
business to finish,
now would be the time
to finish it.
Angela has a grandfather
that she's not yet aware of.
He and I have
matters to discuss.
Well, best discuss them now,
while you still know
you are you.
Thank you, Adrian.
I'll do that.
No, there's one thing
that I'd like in exchange.
I saved the world from...
nuclear Armageddon, Jon.
Aside from you and a select few,
nobody knows.
My plans
for a great future...
ignored.
I once asked you, Jon,
whether...
it was all worth it in the end.
You avoided answering
by saying...
"Nothing... ever ends."
Tell me now, Jon,
will I live to see my utopia?
Yes.
But not here.
I don't understand.
I sought to...
create a kind of
life that was...
superior to the life
here on Earth.
Kinder, gentler.
Beings who are designed
to care for others
instead of themselves.
And I did it, Adrian.
I did it on Europa.
It's a beautiful place.
Verdant and untouched,
teeming with life,
completely devoid of conflict.
But all they want is
to please me, to adore me.
Their love is infinite,
which is the very reason
it's so unsatisfying,
which means that I must leave
my creations behind.
They're still there,
just waiting
for someone to worship.
Sounds like... paradise.
Would you like me
to send you there, Adrian?
Yes, Jon.
I would like that.
Godspeed.
I just push it
into your head?
Yes.
I'll make myself
intangible.
Be sure to withdraw
your hand very quickly.
How do you know
it's gonna work?
I don't.
That's what makes
it a risk.
Are you gonna forget
how to speak or walk?
No. My understanding
is that
it will only
affect my memory.
Perhaps you could tell me
I was in some kind of accident.
We should leave Vietnam,
start over
where nobody knows us.
I can be a cop anywhere.
How about Tulsa?
It's where my family's from.
I think that's a great idea.
Of course you do,
it's yours.
Actually, it was yours.
What's wrong?
If you forget everything,
will you still be you?
My memories may be lost,
Angela...
but you won't be losing me.
Okay, you're losing me, man.
And you're not giving me
a lot to work with here,
Dr. Manhattan,
so dinner tomorrow night
is gonna be a hard no
unless I get some proof.
Dr. Manhattan:
Do you have anything in mind?
You said you can create life.
Create some life right now.
Dr. Manhattan:
All right.
We're in the tunnel,
the tunnel, the tunnel
We're in the tunnel, the
tunnel, the tunnel with you...
‐That's it?
‐lt is technically life.
A chicken would've been better.
Dr. Manhattan: But you will
still have dinner with me?
No, but I am interested
in hearing more about
these 10 glorious years we're
together before tragedy strikes.
Dr. Manhattan:
What would you like to know?
‐Do we have any kids?
‐Dr. Manhattan: Yes, three,
a boy and two girls.
Hmm, are they, like, half gods?
Dr. Manhattan: I would never pass my abilities
on to someone without their consent.
So, that's a thing you can do?
Give someone your powers?
I suppose I could transfer
my atomic components
into some sort of
organic material.
If someone were to consume it,
they would inherit
my powers.
So, you can put them
in this egg,
and if I ate it,
I could walk on water?
Dr. Manhattan:
Theoretically, yes.
Well, I don't want kids.
I've never wanted kids,
and I'm never gonna have kids,
so sorry, Doc,
you're gonna have to find
another egg to knock up.
Dr. Manhattan: They're not
our biological children.
They're... adopted.
Where do we adopt them?
Tulsa.
‐What?
‐Tulsa, Oklahoma.
It's where your
family's from.
‐Who told you that?
‐You did.
Uh‐uh. No, I didn't.
Dr. Manhattan: You will, six months
from now, when I give you the ring.
Ring?
Now, we're getting engaged?
Dr. Manhattan:
In a manner of speaking, yes.
But this is after the big fight,
when I tell you to leave?
‐Yes.
‐Okay. So then,
these three kids,
how long are we living
in Tulsa before we adopt them?
Dr. Manhattan:
That, I don't know.
What do you mean you don't know?
I thought you know everything?
Dr. Manhattan: There's a
period of time I cannot see.
When I try to look,
there's only darkness.
All I know is that you are there
before it begins,
and you're there
when it ends.
Why are you smiling?
Nothing.
It's just what you said.
Just sounds a lot like a tunnel.
A tunnel of love.
The tunnel of love.
Ten years, huh?
Then tragedy?
That's right.
But you're not gonna
tell me what happens?
I won't.
Maybe I should leave
this thing in your brain.
That way, you won't know
how it all ends up.
I leave it entirely
in your hands.
You wanna get down on one knee?
I do.
It's just a matter
Of time
I love you.
I love you, too.
Angela:
Hey, baby.
We're in fucking trouble.
Cal?
Jon?
Are you okay?
Jon?
Jon?
We're in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
It's 2019.
I had to wake you up...
because you're in danger.
The people here,
they're bad people.
They know
who you are,
and they're coming
to hurt you.
Do you know
who you are?
You still have his face.
Jon, the kids are upstairs.
You can't look
like this, okay?
You need to change back.
No...
‐I need to move forward.
‐What do you mean?
‐Jon, we don't have time for this
shit‐‐ ‐This clock is damaged.
Do you remember what
happened? How it broke?
Dr. Manhattan:
It is Christmas.
A man in a mask
kicks in the door.
You push me down.
The bullet hits the clock.
There were two of them.
One of them was about to shoot me
in the kitchen,
but you zapped him away.
‐
‐Veidt: Without
the awareness of
your abilities,
you wouldn't know to use them!
Ah! Except perhaps as a reflex
in life‐threatening
situations.
Thank you, Adrian.
Now, I understand
what happened.
Adrian...
Who are you talking to?
I'm sorry, Angela.
This must be frustrating for you.
I'm experiencing confusion
as a result of the device
being removed, and I'm not
entirely sure when I am.
Would you excuse me
for a moment, please?
‐
‐
‐Motherfucker‐‐
‐Girls: Daddy! Daddy!
Oh, shit.
Daddy! Daddy!
Mom?
‐Daddy!
‐Angela: It's okay! It's okay!
What's happening?
‐There's a blue man on
our swimming pool! ‐Look!
He looks like Cal.
That's because he is.
Motherfucker.
Where are they?
Where did you send them?
It's all right.
They're safe.
No. Uh‐uh.
Get the fuck up
off the pool
and tell me where
they are right now.
‐You need to see me on the pool.
‐Why?
It's important
for later.
Okay. I've seen it.
Now, tell me where
you sent our children.
They're with
your grandfather.
What?!
They're at
the Dreamland Theatre
in downtown Tulsa right now.
It's all right, your grandfather
was expecting them.
When did you talk
to my grandfather?
Ten years ago,
I'm standing in Karnak.
Veidt is offering
me the device,
and he's telling me...
So, if you have any
unfinished business...
now's the time to finish it.
And so, I teleport
to New York City.
I'm walking up to a mansion
once owned by Nelson Gardner,
- ‐also known as Captain Metropolis...
- ‐
the leader of the Minutemen.
When he died years ago,
he bequeathed this property
to an old acquaintance.
My prayer...
Mr. Reeves, hello.
My name is Jon Osterman.
Is that supposed to mean
something to me?
Oh.
You may know me better
as Dr. Manhattan.
In a dream that's divine
My prayer
Is a rapture
With a world far away...
May we talk
for a moment?
Tonight while our hearts...
Yeah.
All right.
Oh, tell me the words
That I'm longing to know...
Aren't you supposed
to be blue?
I recently made some
changes in my life.
I'm about to make a few more,
which is why I wanted
to speak with you.
Mr. Reeves...
Our lives have become entangled
in a most profound way
through someone known
to both of us.
But the future is uncertain,
and my ability
to influence events
is limited.
In order to ensure
an optimal outcome,
I would like to form
an alliance.
You wanna team up with me?
You are Hooded Justice.
‐A hero. ‐Oh,
that's what this is all about.
Want me to put on
a goddamn mask, huh?
No.
This is about Angela.
Angela?
Your granddaughter.
I don't have a granddaughter.
But you had a son.
Hmm.
He had a daughter,
which makes her
your granddaughter.
Oh. That's how that
works out, huh?
I met her
in Vietnam.
We are in love.
Soon, we will marry
and move to Tulsa,
where she'll be
a police officer.
I don't know why the hell
she'd wanna go to Tulsa.
I'm not sure she knows yet,
but I suspect it's
because she senses
it is where she comes from.
‐What the hell you want with me?
‐Nothing.
But Angela does.
She wants your help.
She doesn't even know I exist.
That is because you choose
to let her be ignorant
to your existence.
‐No, she don't want me in her life.
‐She does.
What the fuck do you know?
I know the moment I first see
her, I sense profound emptiness...
and loss.
I know because she says
over and over again
that she doesn't
want a family,
yet it is clear
through her actions
that it is all that she wants.
I know because I'm talking
to her right now.
You're talking
with him right now?
Relatively, yes.
For you it's right now,
but for him,
it's 10 years ago.
That's right.
You're talking
to her right now?
Relatively, yes.
Can you ask him something?
‐Of course.
‐Ask him
how did he know Judd Crawford
was a part of Cyclops.
Ask him how did he know
there was a fucking Klan robe
hidden in his closet.
She wants to know how
you knew Judd Crawford
was a member of Cyclops,
and how you knew
he had a Klan robe
hidden in his closet.
Who's Judd Crawford?
He said he doesn't know
who Judd Crawford is.
But he does now.
No... No, no, no, shit!
Did I start all this?
Did I send my grandfather here?
Is this my fault?
I'm confused.
You're confused?
Isn't it a good thing
that Judd Crawford is dead?
Does it matter where
the idea came from?
Yes, it matters.
I only asked
the old man about Crawford
because he murdered him.
Hmm...
The chicken or the egg.
What?
The paradox.
Which came first,
the chicken or the egg?
The answer appears
to be both.
At exactly the same time.
I'm hungry.
Motherfucker!
What the hell are you doing?
Making waffles.
Watch the eggs.
God damn it, Jon!
We don't have
time for this!
I woke you up because
the Kavalry knows who you are,
and they are coming for you.
You might have an alliance
with my grandfather,
but he has one with Lady Trieu,
and I'm pretty sure
she knows who you are, too.
So, stop
fucking around‐‐
They're already here.
‐What?
‐The 7th Kavalry.
They're in a truck
parked across the street.
On the back of the truck
is a tachyonic cannon,
which they will use
to involuntarily teleport me,
and then destroy me.
They've been here
all this time,
and you're just now
telling me?
There were more important
matters to discuss.
They wanna kill you!
‐Yes. ‐So then,
let's fuckin' stop them!
We can't.
‐Why not?
‐We can't stop them.
‐There's nothing we can do.
‐There's something I can do.
What?
‐This is the moment.
‐What moment?
I just told you that
you can't save me,
and you're gonna
try to anyway.
In the bar the night
we met, you asked me
about the moment
I fell in love with you.
This is the moment.
Is that supposed
to be romantic?
‐Sorry? ‐All this time
we've been together,
and you fall in
love with me now?
No. I've always been
in love with you.
‐My perception of time‐‐
‐Yeah, I get it.
You stay here
while I save your life.
- ‐Hey!
- ‐
‐
‐
‐
‐
‐
‐
Fuck! Fuck!
We win.
You were wrong.
No, Angela.
I wasn't.
What?
‐
‐I'm sorry.
‐
‐
Jon!
I can't keep calling
you Dr. Manhattan.
What's your first name?
Dr. Manhattan:
It's Jon.
No H.
Jon with no H.
‐I'm Angela.
‐I know.
Yes, of course you do.
So, we spend 10 years
in the tunnel of love,
and once we're out,
something terrible happens?
That's right.
But you won't tell
me what that is?
Dr. Manhattan:
I won't.
Okay, Jon.
It was really nice
talking to you.
Definitely one of the more
interesting
conversations I've had,
but I cannot get serious
with someone if...
I know it's just
gonna end in tragedy.
By definition, don't all
relationships end in tragedy?
Yeah. Guess you have a point.
Then will you have
dinner with me
tomorrow night?
Fuck it. Why not?
I want her right now
I want the little
girl any way
I want her any how
I want a woman
I want a lover
I want a friend
A woman, a lover, a friend
Oh
I don't want a fancy gal
With powder and paint
And I don't want a woman
Who thinks she's a saint
I'm looking for someone
Who's not make‐believe
And doesn't mind giving
So that she may receive
There must be somebody
Somewhere around
That's looking for someone
To give pound for pound
I want me a woman
Mm, I want a lover
I want a friend
A woman, a lover, a friend
Yeah
I want her right now
I want the little
girl anyway...
Crookshanks:
Will you stay, Master?
Veidt: No.
Philips:
Will you stay, Master?
Veidt: No.
Crookshanks:
Will you stay, Master?
Veidt: No.
Philips:
Will you stay, Master?
‐No.
‐
Will you stay, Master?
No.
‐
‐
If you sing "For He's
a Jolly Good Fellow,"
I'll vomit all
over your boots.
Philips and Crookshanks insisted
on preparing this for you.
Mm, before or after
they repeatedly
smashed tomatoes
in my face?
An action they would
certainly desist on performing
if you agreed to stay.
If I didn't know better,
I'd assume you want to suffer.
Do you know better?
Would you like me
to get you another book?
No. I like this one.
Why?
You wouldn't understand.
It's about loneliness.
I understand loneliness.
'Cause your big
blue daddy left
to get a pack of cigarettes
and never came back?
I was here.
The very first to emerge
from the water.
I was here when he put
light in the sky
and air in my lungs.
I saw grass sprout
from dead earth,
and soon after, I saw him bring
the beasts forth
to graze upon it.
He made Heaven
before my very eyes.
Why is Heaven not enough?
This is not my home.
My home is
390 million miles away.
And my children...
all eight million of them
are undoubtedly
standing in their cribs,
crying out in desperation
for me to return.
Heaven is not enough because...
Heaven doesn't need me.
Enjoy your fucking cake.