Vast improvements can be found in Peter Jackson’s new Hobbit movie, but the root problem still remains: why was a book that could be read on a flight from Denver to Saskatoon being spread out over three movies, themselves spread out over three years?
I’m growing impatient with this franchise, which is a shame because it’s getting better. The first one had its janky construction and some wobbly gears, but the Peter Jackson Fantasy Machine seems better oiled for this go around in The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug. It rides smoother. It also carries its characters a little steadier. And when it doesn't, it shoves some action on the screen, which is an effective strategy in this case.
The Lord of the Rings, itself three separate books, managed to get away with the taffy-pulling that is modern-day franchises because the films had logical ending points: Gandalf falls from the bridge, Frodo and Sam descend into the last valley before Mt. Doom and, finally, the ring is destroyed. The movies let their individual conclusions play out without needlessly teasing us to the next film. Essentially, they ended on downbeats, where The Hobbit has twice now ended on the upbeat of an abbreviated strum.
The first one closed on a disposable villain — a cancer-ridden orc with a talon-like claw impaled into the entire length of this forearm — surviving the natural arc of his dead-end storyline to become the ultimate villain of the entire trilogy. I guess that qualifies as a promotion in the baddie department. With no bad guy to slay or mountain to climb, the movie fizzled until it was flat and then it evaporated without a payoff. This one doesn't fizzle, but it does just end. Abruptly. Just as things are getting good. "I am fire. I am death," a character says as he approaches his ultimate destiny and then — wham! — curtains, credits and house lights as the theatergoers file out to wait another year, and not just for the conclusion of the franchise, but the conclusion to the movie they just finished watching. And paying for.
The movie picks up pretty much right where we left off, seemingly hours after the events of the first movie, An Unexpected Journey. A gray wizard, 13 dwarves and a furry-footed Hobbit are stomping through the enchanted land of Middle Earth looking for a sacked dwarf kingdom inside a mountain, a kingdom presided over by a dragon named Smaug. (The fanboys and Tolkien elite are screaming that it's pronounced "smowg.") Their first encounter is with a man-bear in his comfy cottage. Other adventures include a spider fight in a dark forest, a barrel escape from an elf castle, the infiltration of a floating lake town and the eventual meeting of Smaug, who is remarkably well spoken and fair, considering he's pretty much a flying asshole.
Again, as with the first movie, the script — by Jackson, original director Guillermo del Toro, and Rings veterans Fran Walsh and Phillipa Boyens — doesn't understand how to properly utilize Bilbo (Martin Freeman), the fellowship's burglar. He does get a rather complex game of verbal chess with Smaug, but otherwise Bilbo is the Forrest Gump of Middle Earth — he gets to witness all the big events, but his involvement in them is negligible. Oh, he flips a trapdoor or two and steals the prison keys to the dwarves' elvish prison, but everyone treats him like a pedestrian taking too long to cross the street. Other times, the movie seems to turn its attention to lead dwarf Thorin Oakenshield, the smug bastard. Thorin, the film's loser-hero if ever there was one, is not a likable guy. Most of the dwarves aren't. Notice what happens when they get to the secret door into the dragon's mountain: they labor to find a keyhole for their magical key, but when none can be found they shrug their shoulders and hustle off, "Oh well, we tried." Nevermind that they just wandered across half of Middle Earth, were regurgitated up by elephant-sized spiders, nearly killed by orcs and fell down the Niagara Falls of elf-land only to walk away defeated at the first obstacle they didn't have control over. If World War II were fought that way, we would have gave up when General Eisenhower stubbed his toe the evening before D-Day.
These old characters aren't much to brag about, including the ones whose names are never spoken. Like you, Groin. (Or is it Gloin?) We meet new characters as well, including Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), an elf princess who's makin' the sexy eyes at one of the less stumpy and less beardy dwarfs, Kili. At one point, they share a long conversation about life and love, and it's really quite beautiful, especially considering that, here, in this grand movie about orcs and dragons and war, two characters could share an intimate moment without the rest of the movie crashing on top of them. Another new Hobbit character is not a new Tolkien character: Legolas is back, but this time all the sparkle and magic is gone from Orlando Bloom's soulless eyes. He has these cold and dead eyes. Villain eyes. Lifeless eyes. Seriously, something did not look right about his face, no matter how many arrows he shoots through orc skulls.
Jackson's movie, as usual, is a technical masterpiece. His special effects — blue screen, green screen, physical stunts, digital matte paintings, fight choreography — are fantastic and more fluid than they have any right to be. He really makes it look easy juggling all these elements without dropping any. And consider this: every species in the Tolkien' universe is a different height, which means that even simple dialogue sequences require forced perspectives, digital trickery or giant stand-ins. Multiply that times a thousand for every battle or barrel chase, one of the best action sequences in the film. This is laborious, meticulous, agonizingly slow filmmaking, but Jackson hits his stride early and just rips into it without flinching. I may have misgivings about some things, but Peter Jackson is an impressive director.
So about those misgivings: some of them I've touched on, including Bloom's glass eyes and the sequel bating that is downright shameless. What most frustrates me is that the movie needs a star. At this point, it could be Bilbo, Thorin or Gandalf, but it refuses to pick. I mean, come on, this isn't Sophie's Choice; who's it going to be?! I do like how Gandalf (Sir Ian McKellen) is wandering about putting the pieces together on the mysterious force that is rallying the armies of evil. (This wasn't in Tolkien's Hobbit, but it's fun to see the beginnings of The Lord of the Rings come together.) And Thorin serves an important role as the future king of Dwarf Mountain, even though he's an arrogant prick. Mostly though, I'm mad that the film neglects Bilbo, who is the film's rightful star. Certainly his role expands in the third movie, There and Back Again, but he's getting shortchanged now.
Honestly, that's my biggest problem with this movie: I can't see all three of them together yet. I think I'd like it more if I could just marathon through it. I'd be able to see the bigger pieces and larger narratives. As it is now, though, the film is incomplete — incomplete by design.
So before I go, let me end on different topic: the high frame rate nonsense. Yes, Peter Jackson is still releasing these movies in that fakey, phoney, soap opera-quality high frame rate version. It looks awful. Jackson knows that critics don't like it, so he's not letting critics see that version, which is a wise PR move. But even though critics are seeing the normal 24fps version, he's actually increasing the number of screens that are getting the HFR version. Whatever you do, don't the HFR version. Just don't. Your eyes will thank me. No word on if Orlando Bloom's eyes will thank you, though … especially since their dead.
