Visually, Watchmen is a combination of those two movies plus Sin City and 300 (both based on graphic novels by Frank Miller).
Sure, just as "Sin City" would have been even better if Quentin Tarantino had directed all of it.
Writers David Hayter and Alex Tse and director Zack Snyder eschew the stylized look of other graphic-novel films (Sin City, 300) in favor of a sharply gleaming realism, and it’s a good call, giving the complex, delirious story a hard-edged sense of conviction.
After the opening, the film quickly rushes into 300 and Sin City territory: adapt a comic book by recreating it with panel-by-panel accuracy.
"Watchmen," like "Sin City" before it, relishes the specter of child molestation as a dramatic device, because once you've established a subhuman predator you can have someone like Rorschach in "Watchmen" ram an ax blade into a man's cranium in close-up, several times, over and over, and it's OK because he's vermin, and we've already seen two junkyard dogs fighting over the girl's severed leg.
Though the diminutive Haley is about the size of one of Mickey Rourke's steroidal biceps, he may offer the most compelling portrait of violent retribution since the latter's turn in Sin City.