Hollywood never misses an opportunity to defame America and denigrate the values for which it stands. Watchmen, the recently released blockbuster directed by Zack Snyder, is no exception.

Based on the comic book by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons of the same name, Watchmen follows a group of former superheroes who investigate a potential conspiracy against them. The story takes place in an alternate timeline in 1985 during mounting tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union.

Mr. Moore portrays a nihilistic world where presidential term limits are abolished and Richard Nixon has become a de facto fascist dictator. Democracy is in tatters. Anarchy reigns. The only way to have achieved victory in Vietnam was for the United States to send Dr. Manhattan, who is symbolic of the nuclear bomb, to massacre countless Vietnamese. This great blue mammoth larger-than-life figure has the power to bring the Vietnamese to their knees. He is not their hero, but a monster that puts an end to life as they know it, wreaking death and destruction on their land. From the outset, Mr. Moore’s Watchmen makes clear with Dr. Manhattan that these superheroes are different than most others.

Mr. Moore’s chaotic universe is without rhyme or reason—but above all, without heroes. Dr. Manhattan, a former brilliant scientist maimed in a nuclear accident, is obsessed with his work, neglecting his girlfriend and fellow superhero, Laurie Jupiter.  He is the only character allowed to maintain his powers after Congress passed the Keene Act in 1944, banning superheroes. But after years of being the government’s secret weapon against the Soviet Union, Dr. Manhattan has forgotten who he is or even why he exists. In an existential crisis on Mars, he laments to Laurie that he cannot see the difference between living bodies and dead ones. His powers of manipulating time and space are only used to escape reality.

Ozymandias, who plots to transform the world through a nuclear holocaust, has an Alexander the Great complex. He will stop at nothing to see his utopian vision implemented. The obsessed businessman believes human beings are cogs in a wheel; hapless stepping stones in a plan where killing millions is but an unfortunate circumstance to justify global domination—and eventual world peace and co-existence.

The Comedian, brutally murdered at the beginning of the film, has gone through life abusing women and his powers to satisfy his lust for sex and violence. A rapist, murderer and drunk, the Comedian has lost his punch line. In a gripping scene, the Comedian goes on a rampant killing spree. When Rorschach questions what ever happened to the American Dream, he coldly retorts that it is dead. In short, the Comedian embodies the extinction of the American Dream.

Then there is Dan Dreiberg, formerly Nite Owl, who represents the every man. But instead of pursuing liberty and happiness, he sluggishly slumbers through life without purpose. His impotent powers and potential are reflected in his inability to perform in the bedroom. He is only able to regain his virility after putting on his Nite Owl uniform for a vigilante nightcap with Laurie. Although the duo help some people in need, their escapade is a far cry from noble selflessness. Their endeavor is more to feel good about themselves and regain some of their glory days than truly helping those in need.

Rorschach, who has a mask with shifting inkblots—symbolic of his quest to discover himself—is fraught with angst, trying to navigate a world of evil. He is the only superhero who still has a sense of fighting for what is right, despite the consequences. He sets out to warn his former vigilantes after the Comedian dies, fearing there is a conspiracy to kill ex-crime fighters. But Rorschach’s Achilles’ heel is his contempt for society and his lust for bloodshed. He ruthlessly kills those who get in his way, taking pleasure in their agony. In the end, he chooses to be killed by Dr. Manhattan rather than perpetuate a lie to the world that Dr. Manhattan is behind the devastating nuclear attack on America.

In Watchmen, long gone are the innocence, joy and inspiration of traditional superheroes. Unlike Robin Hood, who steals from the rich to feed the poor, or Spider-Man and Batman who use their superpowers to fight injustice, these superheroes are defunct of all moral goodness. They do not know what to do with the incredible powers they have been bestowed with. As noted in the first Spider Man movie, “With great power comes great responsibility.” The heroes of Watchmen have lost sight of this responsibility and are but mere shadows of their former selves. And moviegoers have taken note. Box office sales for Watchmen are dramatically less than other movies based on comic books. It only grossed $55 million on opening weekend. Iron Man yielded $102 million and Spider-Man $114 million, with sequels two and three netting $88 million and $151 million respectively during the same period.

Mr. Moore is one of the best-known comic book writers of our time. But he has also forgotten the responsibility his own craft carries and has misused his power. He has corrupted the comic book, destroying the heart and soul of the classic superhero. The antiheroes he portrays leave little to the imagination and even less to aspire to. Moviegoers have taken notice—and rightly so.