“Remember, remember the Fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.”
Famous words that start a British nursery rhyme commemorating a failed bombing of the English Parliament in 1605, and also the beginning of the film V for Vendetta (2005), based on the comic of the same name.
It is an interesting part of history that most Americans were unaware of until the official release of the film in 2006. Though there was an early screening in 2005, so do not worry; they hit the 400-year anniversary of the event, if only a month late. As the holiday was celebrated for centuries within one country, it lay dormant for the rest of the world. The movie did more than become a box office hit; it touched pop culture unlike any other movie before it and revitalized historic imagery.
Unfortunately, the thread connecting history, the comics, the movie, and modern-day usage has become tangled with so many retellings and interpretations. Hopefully this article will clear some of that confusion up and give you a movie to watch today for a holiday you probably never hear of before.
A historical background
In the UK, the date marks a celebration; it is referred to as Bonfire Night or Guy Fawkes Night, where fires and fireworks are lit as a form of thanksgiving, and effigies of Guy Fawkes are burned to celebrate the failure of the terrorist attack.
The original scheme had close to two tons of black powder successfully smuggled under Parliament in a rented cellar, preparing for the opening day of Parliament on November 5. Its members and King James I would attend. Unfortunately for the revolutionaries, the plot was exposed, and Guy Fawkes was caught the night before the planned attack. Although Fawkes was not the ringleader, being caught guarding 36 barrels of gunpowder so close to actually detonating them made him the figurehead of the plot, as the full ensemble and its mastermind, Robert Catesby, would have to be hunted down.

Obviously, this was consumed by the politics of the time. The plotters were all Roman Catholics who had been scorned by recent laws that fined them for refusing to attend Church of England services and prevented them from openly practicing their faith. They were thought of suspiciously for their support of the Pope at the time versus their ruling King.
While hindsight reveals that suspicion was well placed, it was King James I’s ascension to the throne and refusal to repeal these religiously targeted laws that led to Catesby plotting to overthrow the current government, even if it meant the destruction of the Roman Catholics in attendance at Parliament who were not privy to his plan.

The attempted treason was an insane plot that, while it failed, was incredibly close to actually working. It was an event surrounded by faith, a difference in faith that caused it, a dedication of faith that kept the secret, and a reliance on faith for the coup to succeed after the attack. From its failure came imagery that has lasted more than four centuries and a lesson of how a divide in politics can sever far deeper than what the surface shows.
Art reflects reality
Alan Moore and David Lloyd used these symbols in their comic, released from 1982 to 1985. It drew on the politics of their home country at the time, under Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. The comic book, which is now fully available as a completed work, was nothing short of dark and brutal.
Being from the same mind (Moore) behind Watchmen and Batman: The Killing Joke, one can expect such a story. It is a gripping tale of revolution and anarchy against an authoritarian regime that, for a time, lacked an ending until DC revived the series for an American audience in the late 1980’s. The story is not a simple one; in fact, it is a contradiction to most comics before the 1980s by not offering clear-cut heroes and villains, something Alan Moore has garnered a reputation for over his career.
V within the comic books is not a hero, but rather more akin to the Gunpowder Plotters his image came from; he is another extremist seeking revenge under the guise of alleviating the most recent regime by offering an actionable political opposite. Faith in the future, and the means to achieve it, are blurred by the tactics of the moment. While the comic series grew in popularity during its release, the film brought more attention to the story.
Directed by the Wachowskis, the creators of The Matrix (1999), the film borrowed much from the source material and adapted the setting for a more modern political backdrop. It is not a literal remake. The best way to describe the difference is that the edges were smoothed down and the story was adapted to be more relatable to the times. It still remains a gritty movie, but the protagonists are more clear-cut and likeable. The imagery took the place of the nuance, which is not necessarily bad. Obviously, backlash from fans of the comic series is understandable, but the reach of the movie V for Vendetta vaulted it into pop culture.
Personally, I appreciate both and respect that they are different forms of media, so how a story is told will be different. Even though it was a graphic novel, it still appears that a writer can get away with more than what can be shown on a screen. In fact, both pieces of media are incredible in their own right. It is an important distinction to highlight for those that have been exposed to neither or only one version and are curious to know why they are so loved.
From page to screen
The movie is a perfectly cast, action-packed look at how far politicians will go to seize power and retain it. The anonymity of the protagonist V represents that the person fighting for what they believe is not important, but their actions make a difference. Anyone can strive for change; the importance is taking action, and that the veil of authority is thinner than those in power suggest. The mask might hide the literal man, but it allows V to be the collective representation of authoritarian strife laid onto the people.
Many of the iconic images of the comics were translated into the film. Almost like an open acknowledgment of their visual power. The movie shows V as less morally gray and more a necessary force required to fight the Norsefire Party. It largely follows Hollywood tropes to leave the audience satisfied and make characters easier to follow and accept. The ideas of anarchy within the comics are suppressed using themes of liberty within the film. V is not such an unpredictable anarchist as in the comics, but more of a symbolic catalyst in this representation, successful to such an extent that his symbolism spilled over into the real world.

While the messaging in the film of political leaders using a manufactured illness to scare the public, focus power amidst the chaos of its populace under the guise of protection, and then use its cure to amass untold wealth and consolidate authority might seem far-fetched, its underlying message that the will of the people always holds more power might still have relevance. It brings home the failed revolution Guy Fawkes was a part of; even if the gunpowder went off, the people would have needed to take action for it to have any meaning.
When finishing the movie, the audience is left with that underlying feeling of the importance of the collective. It is a more well-rounded and wholesome ending, a nice bow to wrap it all up. The comics consistently introduce V’s extreme tactics as morally ambiguous. The desired effect is to have the audience ask themselves if the methods are worth it. Much like the original members of the Gunpowder Plot had to ask themselves if sacrificing their own members was worth the chance of a successful coup d’etat.
Transcending beyond the screen
In the wake of the success of the films, David Lloyd’s mask design became an international symbol for revolutionaries and protesters. It is used by protesters as a practical means to hide their identity while exclaiming their opposition without saying a word.
In more recent years, younger generations might recognize the mask from the group of activist hackers known as Anonymous. It is the lasting image of the films that hits a real-world chord of political discourse. Messaging that resonates to such a degree does not come as a surprise that its origins are from real-world events. So the continued use of these symbols is an awkward web.
On one thread, Guy Fawkes was attempting to be a revolutionary; even if he was not the leader, he was a real person who became symbolic. On another string, the pop culture success of V for Vendetta changed that symbol from Roman Catholicism to that of a fictional anarchist. The current string is where the real world adopted that same symbol to not only represent a loosely formed organization but to show common dissent in action.

The real-world adoption of those symbols is unlike anything else from such media. While a commercial success, it has undeniably left a massive mark in pop culture that no piece of media has gotten close to achieving. One that has lasted 20 years since its release.
The legend of the film is enough to give credence to viewing it if you have never seen it before, and the theme gives it a date watch, especially with the anniversary today. Whether you prefer one to the other makes no consequential difference; they are both excellent for their own reasons and worth your time, and with their commercial and critical success, it’s undeniable that the Gunpowder Treason will never be forgot.

By Nash Moorer





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