The (PJ Version) Hobbit Film #2: Part 1c: Specifically Where This Second Film Falls Down

Additional Bits 'n Bobs of (generally more minor) note, observed by this Tolkien fan in said film:

Could anyone (familiar with PJ Et Al's take upon The Lord of the Rings) possibly have missed the initial stunt (i.e. another blatant, flagrant Peter Jackson cameo appearance: a boozer at the bar in Bree - juxtapose the swashbuckling but soon arrow-smitten pirate upon one of the ships from the South as part two of the Return of the King movie opens)? While well enough (if none too subtly) executed, the obvious parallels between what is being depicted in each respective scene are way too close for (my) comfort (anyway). And said (wholly unnecessary, redundant, superfluous - do I get my point across?) Bree scene smacks of mini-desperation, while again tying this film in inappropriately with the Rings' movie trilogy. Enough of a, if not indeed the major sin in my book to warrant much previous and subsequent comment on my other (Parts 1/1b/2/3) Hobbit film #2 postings. And note well the various (at least two I recall) shady, secretive, shifty and suspicious background figures squinting from the shadows - dittoing the appearance of Aragorn plus some far less savoury if low-level enemy bods in the Bree-scene in The Fellowship of the Ring (both versions).

But still more irksome to me, Tolkien's beautifully crafted build-up to the company's arrival at Beorn's country estate, and moreover the group's actual (and oh so arresting, (i)sidesplitting and memorable) entrance into his homely abode, is either absolutely omitted or unrecognizably altered in PJ & Co's version of events. Take your pick - but neither option is all that palatable. And thus and so Beorn is left looking like - no, not some [hard-bitten] Bracegirdle from Hardbottle, to quote Bilbo's memorable line uttered with utter exasperation in the Fellowship film, but rather - a two-bit excuse for an otherwise intimidating 'skin-changer' and terrifyingly huge and menacing bear.

Certainly 'Mother Nature' and, in particular, New Zealand's unparalleled and world-renowned scenery is captured powerfully and spectacularly throughout - as in An Unexpected Journey and the three Rings' movies. And an especially delightful and deft touch are the various leaf litter components of Radagast the Wizard's headpiece: a veritable nest of critters small and smaller still, all harmoniously inhabiting his head-top surface - to some, less flatteringly, the space between his ears (even if they are hardly visible). Though in this regard Beorn's own special and arguably unique relationship with 'all creatures large and small' is largely sidestepped, in deference to what are obviously perceived as much more pressing concerns around life - and looming death - upon Middle Earth.

Though again, truth be told - for those interested, that is, in an abiding faithfulness (or in this case the lack thereof) to JRR Tolkien and his tale; as with the much-commented upon omission of Tom Bombadil in the Fellowship movie, the fact is that Beorn, like both the Wood-elves of Mirkwood and moreover the (ii)'Shirelings'  in Hobbiton at (especially) the start of the Rings' film trilogy (and books), is blissfully ignorant of the nefarious proceedings well underway upon Middle Earth. That is, as Sauron literally 'regroups' - both on a personal level from pure spirit form into dualistic supernatural/ material entity, and in terms of rallying the disparate ethnicities and peoples of Middle Earth into a potent and unified fighting force to be reckoned with. Yet unlike 'the Shire folk' Beorn is no small menace in terms of physicality and supernormal prowess and so such an 'ignorance is bliss' approach to life is not altogether irrational for him. But far from this diminishing either his credibility or appeal, quite conceivably this makes his somewhat odd and isolationist persona (in the original text) all the more believable - revealing yet again the rich tapestry of races and ethnicities with which JRR realistically peopled his Middle Earth. Indeed it could be argued that Tolkien himself, as with so many in that momentous period just prior to World War II and especially the Holocaust, quite possibly had (iii)not the remotest (iv)inkling that such shameful and shameless events were even then taking shape in the shadows. But methinks I'm doing his memory a disservice while (quite unintentionally) thus impugning his 'smarts', for it's almost inconceivable that he, alongside other deep thinkers of the time, didn't have grave suspicions of what was then 'going down' in the surrounding world.

The (early) river-scene in Mirkwood Forest is wholly absent, supposedly seeming to add nothing to proceedings (and in particular the single-minded and wholehearted quest for dragon gold). Bombur's various 'odds 'n sods' from the moment of entering Mirkwood through to the company's arrival at Erebor also vanish in a puff of smoke. And The Hobbit's intricately labyrinthine depiction of Mirkwood's spider hordes and 'homesteads' is touched once-over lightly, and by just a third of the film we have already arrived at the Elvenking's castle fortress. A (v)speedy feat - the making of almost record physical progress by anyone's reckoning. But all in a day's filming for PJ & Co.

Such 'creative' touches are especially apparent in the (textually wrong, wholly superfluous and extremely unimaginative) continually reappearing Azog-led hordes above the river; which, moreover, distracts considerably from the proper flow of the (original) story-line. And which also is (vi)all too tiresomely reminiscent of the orcs abreast the river at the conclusion of the Fellowship film. Indeed these pursuing orc and goblin hordes so often inveigle themselves, yea wheedle their way into the various scenes throughout the film - in an entirely unwarranted fashion - that it becomes, again, rather predictable and tedious to behold. Once more, Lord of the Rings, Peter Jackson-style, writ large over Tolkien's childhood tale, transforming a perfectly self-contained - if admittedly allusion-packed - innocent kids' classic into adult fantasy of the 'blood-splatter, let violence take centre stage', variety.

Sir Peter's poetic licence apparently knows no bounds, a classic case (or three) being the (vii)(viii)splitting of the company at Lake-town, the midnight attack of Azog Et Al, not to mention - but I will - The Town Master's (Mayor's) own wholly uncalled-for all-out assault upon Bard. Indeed so very much is missed out (quite aside from gratuitously added) that I feared even the heralding of the dwarves shortly after their arrival in Lake-town and the reciting of the ancient prophecy itself would be lost without trace. Thankfully the old prophecies do come into their own, even if the company's feting by one and all (the townsfolk) at the Town Hall doesn't happen, though they still receive a royal send-off. As for the company's ponies as Bilbo and the dwarves make rather short work of the usually long trek from Lake-town to Erebor, let's just say they are missing in action, having gone completely awol, presumably at the sight of Smaug's ominous mountain.

Chapter 13, 'Not at home', appears to have been skipped altogether, as if they've (i.e. Smaug and the dwarf company) already exited the Lonely Mountain's innermost, bottom-most recesses by the end of chapter 12 - though Smaug does indeed then fly south towards Lake-town. But more significant still - in PJ Et Al's version of events, that is - we have Smaug and Bilbo & Co having now seen quite enough of each other, thank you very much; and, even more incomprehensibly, the latter, if not quite victors over against Smaug the Magnificant & Terrible, have at the very least proven themselves his veritable equal! Rather a remarkable feat if a wholly unrealistic 'touch' quite unworthy of Tolkien's original; which retains both Smaug's virtual omnipotence and inaccessibility (as well as his inimitable subtlety), and yet Bilbo's own incredible - though admittedly near-miss - elusiveness of the foul beast (via his ring-endowed invisibility). Yes, the text itself does justice to both Smaug's unrivalled status as it simultaneously showcases Bilbo 'the Thief''s extraordinary 'providential' good fortune, while also not stretching credibility by somehow attempting to place - as Desolation most assuredly does - the dwarf company (and Bilbo to boot) upon an equal footing with the dragon.

This film has all the hallmarks of ye old, tried and true adage: 'Don't confuse me with the actual story - it's the action, stupid!' Nowhere is this better shown than in Desolation's post-Elvenkingdom scenes, wherein the dwarf company, escaping their Wood-elvish captors by the literal skin of their teeth, exposed to every element, suitably aerated and well-hydrated, bobbing up and down upon a foam-flecked, whirlpooling, cascading river, are hurled continually in all directions. And that while vast and gruesome goblin hordes spare no effort in seeing these interlopers are put a speedy and grim end to. And yet...are there subsequently signs of the obvious 'wear and tear' - not to put too fine a point on it - upon the clothes, bodies (un)beautiful, let alone the countenances of said dwarves (and Bilbo)? Or the faintest facade of fatigue? As Ned Kelly might have said: 'Not on your Nelly!'

The barely-concealed reason for the much-vaunted appearance of the snazzy Tauriel  - just like that of good 'ole Legolas for that matter - is evidently to spice up the story, link in once again with the Rings' trilogy 'to come', and to provide a side tangent with which viewers can easily relate and identify. This is not only quite unnecessary, but, far worse - yet unfortunately 'par for the (film's) course' as I've oft noted - it helps to 'positively' yet ever so effectively detract from the story's main focus. Unless of course one regards Desolation's raison d'etre as being the revelation or unveiling - to the dull-witted senses of all tribes and beings upon Middle Earth - of the soon-'coming attractions' of Sauron's rapidly-emerging machinations for re-conquering the planet. Yet this popularesque side story of romantic interest PJ & Co simply can't resist, just as Jackson himself never seems able to check his insatiable appetite for exorbitant scenes of violence, the latter weakness explaining why PJ has at times been rechristened (x)'Gore Jackson' (or some permutation thereof). Which surfeit of uncalled-for sideshows was something, by the bye, which PJ Et Al were successful in avoiding in the three Rings' films, an operative (and previously well-understood) point being: 'Keep the main thing the main thing!' Likewise Sauron certainly looks every bit as impressive as his well-earned reputation warrants, but again I simply ask: what need for such? It simply encumbers - yet again - an already well fleshed-out story with needless extra detail, wholly distracting from its core plot and theme.

This superimposing of the worldwide struggle for Middle Earth between the forces of Light and Darkness into this rather innocent kids' fantasy does it, I believe, a great injustice. It does so much as poor (inadequate, if we're being charitable) parents seek to prematurely, precociously make adults of kids long before their time, rather than (simply) leaving them as long as possible to maintain their innocent, if ultimately idyllic and unrealistic worldview...before they are - all too quickly - 'brought up to speed'  (on the harsh realities of life) and thrown - often unprepared - into 'the real world' with its maelstrom, especially 'these days', of adult trials and tribulations. I say: let the kids have their own age-appropriate fantasy (i.e. The Hobbit - in all its raw, unvarnished beauty and sheer delight), while we adults have our own adult fantasy, The Lord of the Rings, and its big screen counterparts, to fall back upon. But perhaps PJ & Co have trouble getting themselves into the shoes of such an (old-fashioned) 'innocent', less techno-savvy and better read pre-teen audience.

The 'wise' Gandalf's own extremely fraught escapade into the Necromancer's hideout in Dol Guldur - while retrospectively, in light of the Rings film trilogy, 'called for' in (thus) tying together both that 'earlier' movie triad and this new cinematic Hobbit epic - only adds to the unrealistic tenor of Desolation. As if Sauron, however (then) limited to mere 'spirit' form, is not - and quite evidently so - superior physically and in every which way to 'Gandalf the Grey'. A foolhardy sortie, for sure, but one also straining credulity. Again, neither necessary (for the elaboration of or development of the basic plot) nor really adding anything useful to Tolkien's self-sufficient classic. Which has ever been quite able - and willing, I'd add, if left well enough alone - to stand upon its own well-grounded feet.

So to reiterate my basic beef with The Desolation of Smaug: in turning the cinematic Hobbit into an adult fantasy by making it a natural complement to the Lord Of The Rings film trilogy, and accordingly super-imposing onto it the essential flavour and significant characteristics of those 'earlier' Rings' movies, Jackson & Co effectively transform Tolkien's wonderful kids' tale, The Hobbit, beyond recognition. Thus giving the impression (if incorrect) at least that Middle Earthians are (probably) somewhat conversant, even au fait with Sauron's reawakening, re-materializing and re-manifesting, and moreover his menacing machinations - whereas 'in reality', as with Hobbiton at the start of Fellowship (in both film and book versions), multitudes remain in blissful ignorance. Yes, Sauron does indeed, as Tolkien's LotR well attests - (xi)but at this very point in time? - re-emerge from spirit into material form, and with that reappearance rapidly reasserts all his old evil and resumes progressing his malevolent master plan. Yes, as is often said: timing is everything.

However, not content with that huge adaptational 'gaffe', Jackson & Co then turn insult to Tolkien's respected literary legacy into unqualified injury by - in a manner akin to plagiarism - stealing and borrowing (if not begging) from their own earlier Rings' trilogy adaptations virtually entire speeches and/or scenic episodes and willy-nilly transplanting them into this 'subsequent' epic. A small matter, some might say. It's hard to characterize something which completely transforms the very tenor and nature of the original text, and does so by copying and pasting significant portions of its 'sister text' (The Lord of the Rings)'s cinematic counterpart into this 'later' prequel, as such a merely trivial re-enactment and 'update'. No, Jackson & Co have unashamedly and radically rewritten JRR's classic kids' adventure, even making it unrecognizable to Tolkien himself, I suspect. No, really.

(i) Yes, I'll readily grant it's possible PJ & Co were wary of seeming to recreate what (to my mind at least) was a brilliant and singularly unforgettable re-enactment at the start of An Unexpected Journey of the similar home 'welcoming' of the dwarves by Bilbo Baggins in Bag End. However as an essential element of the Beorn story-line the matter could surely have been dealt with in such a way as to retain its essential comic flavour without too carefully replicating that previous memorable moment.

(ii) As the Ent Treebeard in the film Two Towers endearingly dubbed them.

(iii) And so I'll certainly not make the entirely futile yet often-advanced assertion that Tolkien's mythological backdrop, at least in his LotR trilogy, was somehow meant as an analogy of what was then taking place and about to break so cruelly upon an unwaiting world. Which attempt JRR invariably and unsparingly denounced, 'allegory' being to him, if a literary genre (apparently) somewhat beloved to his close friend, professional colleague and fellow renowned fantasy writer C. S. Lewis, tantamount to an anathema.

(iv) While constituting part of that coterie of literary fellow-travellers of the selfsame name, the Inklings, which group, including C S Lewis, used to meet regularly for fellowship and mutual uplift at the Green Dragon Bar in England.

(v) Rendering that fifth of the book devoted to Mirkwood Forest as well as the lengthy sojourn with Beorn - proportionately warranting one-and-a-half hours of the three films - in barely a fifth of that time.

(vi) Though I didn't regard those Fellowship orc-hordes as being especially tiresome.

(vii) Plus shades (again!) of LotR (both book and film). Remember the splitting of the fellowship (at the very end of Fellowship), plus all the variations thereof throughout the remaining books (and films)?

(viii) Though I would accept that upon the odd occasion Jackson Et Al's improvisations do make a certain sense (as an intrinsic part of film versions of Tolkien's tales that are themselves often quite divergent from the originals). And that they definitely add to the uniqueness of each of these wholly specific versions of Middle Earth, so that we are less in danger of confusing the two (textual vis-a-vis filmic) accounts in our own minds. (For those of us already conversant with the written texts, that is, naturally more usually the older among us.) Though sadly in my own case as no doubt in so many viewers' (and readers') experiences, the visual version ever seems to take on a life of its own, often effectively if not altogether replacing (in memory) some of the highlights that are most beloved to us from the written version. Itself a rather telling commentary upon the (ix)power of the image to mould and control our understanding ever since the advent of the movie, eventually followed by television, and later other complementary (video, dvd, and blue screen) technologies, and over recent years the dominating, almost domineering role of the internet and world wide web in our modern lives.

(ix) For this idea I am indebted to the Christian apologist and radio evangelist Dr Ravi Zacharias, whose especial insights into the way in which the visual 'image' has taken over 'all our lives' here in the West and replaced good old-fashioned imagination are well worth consideration..

(x) See for instance the cat fight, dog-eat-dog depiction of the various (generally initial and final) interactions between Smeagol/Gollum and Frodo and Sam in the LOTR movie trilogy, which type of 'up the ante' violence, Yours Truly heard first-hand from a very respectable source nine years ago, was chiefly egged on by none other than (the now Sir) Peter Jackson himself.

(xi) See my comments in an adjacent blogpost upon the exceptional time lag between Sauron's reappearance here and when he finally 'arrives', c/o his Ringwraith Black Rider henchmen, at Bag End in Hobbiton of the Shire. In terms of the twelve-some odd years apparently involved. If this were really the case - and we weren't simply being 'treated' here to some typically slipshod, slapdash, slaphappy excuse for proper time-keeping by PJ Et Al - not only is Sauron no primeval Speedy Gonzalez, but I'd wager on the turtle in Aesop's famous fable beating him by a country mile. If not several.

The (PJ version) Hobbit film #2: Part One: The Power of The One (Middle Earth) Interpretation: Crapping Crassly on JRR Tolkien's Legacy, or, Witnessing a Classic Kids' Caper Morph Into Adults Fantasy, Lord of the Rings-style

My First (12th December, 2013) Viewing of The Desolation of Smaug. No, not a happy chappy.
Thoughts immediately afterwards, as I sauntered home on foot...

Taking creative licence to the nth degree - and way beyond - (i)'Peter Jackson's' second Hobbit film is a complete (ii)rehash of Tolkien's classic (or perhaps simply hash - without any tag attached - is more apt). For in Desolation (in stark contrast to An Unexpected Journey), Jackson Et Al have radically reinterpreted and - in my view, if no-one else's - (in)effectively restated JRR's subject-matter with breathtaking gall and presumption. Just as if we'd (that is, Sir Peter & Co on the one hand, and 'we' the general readership of The Hobbit on the other), (previously) read entirely different books and thus 'imbibed' completely contrary impressions and understandings.

That it's powerfully 'put' and ably and skilfully executed throughout - in sheer cinematic genius (as per usual) 'and all the rest' (suitably impactful visuals, exquisite costuming, riveting battle scenes etcetera etcetera etcetera...indeed almost 'ad nauseum') - almost goes without saying, and certainly warrants some of the usual accolades and bouquets so freely and readily dispensed upon such occasions. But, and it's no mean but, with its accompanying woefully deficient script and evident failure to properly grasp and hence faithfully reenact Tolkien's almost incessant strokes of brilliance, The Desolation of Smaug lets diehard Hobbit book fans down and in a big (and frankly, unforgivable) way. Irrespective of however many erstwhile critics have now crawled out of the woodwork and scurried on board the Peter Jackson fan club to ((iii)quite inexplicably) lobby volleys of undeserved praise for rather token and superficial 'improvements' on the first film; which, in this lay reviewer's estimation, anyhow, was head and shoulders - and every other available anatomical appendage on offer - above and beyond and light years ahead of this subsequent effort. A rendition, in my view,  that is as unfaithful to the Tolkien text as one could dare (or rather fear) to imagine.

Unfortunately tending to give anything but the lie to the rather jaded assessment (or so I once thought) concerning Peter Jackson Et Al's cinematic reinterpretation of The Lord of the Rings, of an old family friend - one who so happened to be intimately acquainted with old English texts, lore and language. This lady's rather unsparing, all-embracing criticisms I had once thought were more a matter of (unconscious) elitist disdain and (associated, subconscious) envy for Jackson and Co's undeniably successful popularization - in modern form and lingo as it were - of a rather timeless classic by another unconventional, eccentric, classical scholar. Someone (i.e. Tolkien) whose own idiosyncratic tastes and sensibilities, in this esteemed lady's estimation, would have quailed before such populist vulgarities and licence given to his (iv)especial life work and tour de force. Or at the very least have led to some rather decided turning in the grave.

A thought tending to re-evoke latent (if similarly suppressed) misgivings I'd myself long since harboured alongside my own euphoria over PJ Et Al's power-packed and beautifully-characterized cinematic adaptations of each and every one of (v)'the three' Lord of the Rings' books. Yes, as a somewhat johnny-come-lately to the Rings' film trilogy obsessive-compulsive 'band' during a varsity summer school paper in early 2005 - after all three films had appeared on the screen and no doubt been well-scrutinized and reviewed 'till kingdom come' - though initially decidedly taken aback, as is doubtless common with imagination-centric fantasy bibliophiles of especially a previous generation, the three movies quickly 'grew' on me, and their majesty and beauty, power and pathos soon erased any lingering doubts, questions or quibbles I might well have entertained about their faithfulness, or the lack thereof, to Tolkien's text. Or perhaps, mesmerized like so many by such stunning, glorious visuals and dramatization, I simply didn't wish, nay adamantly refused, to even 'go there', least of all be (seen to be) yet another nit-picking nerd or pedantic party-pooper with a massive chip upon his shoulder. Yet, returning to and relating these subjective impressions of mine to The Desolation of Smaug, it's one thing to stand out from the crowd on a point of  basic principle - and be accordingly pilloried for the same - and quite another to indulge in petty politically-motivated partisanship which blows cold one moment and the next hot according to the prevailing winds of public fashion.

That the numerous, faceless critics - only too ready and willing to rise up and knock back down another tall (kiwi) poppy (especially one seen as in the pocket of and cuddling up to the present 'corporate welfarist' New Zealand Government, or at least highly favoured and patronized by the same) - (vii)apparently loved, and have accordingly regaled and extolled this second instalment of PJ's cinematic take upon The Hobbit, and that in proportionate measure to the selfsames' absolute panning and damning with faint praise the first, An Unexpected Journey, should give both initial pause, and elicit plenty of suspicion thereafter. Yes, I'd wager this says an awful lot more about said critics than how well PJ & Co have rendered Tolkien's classic kids' fantasy. And in those (last two) words lies - in my own lowly-esteemed view - the operative point (of my critique). Which is this: whereas The Lord of the Rings was fairly clearly intended as a story for adults, The Hobbit was just as self-evidently written for a wholly different audience - the 'kids' set' if you will. So PJ's - I readily admit, well-, even consummately-executed, efforts to transform Tolkien's Hobbit from a childrens' tale into adult fantasy, however powerfully pulled off with Peter Jackson Et Al's characteristic manner and flair - fell down and ultimately failed for that very reason. I.e. mixing and matching as many Rings' film trilogy elements as humanly possible, to the point of even transposing or interchanging - and then, virtually word-for-word - various script references from The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and/or The Return of the King, into their respective (superimposed, or reassigned) characters in The Desolation, means Tolkien's classic has thus been radically (x)revised, nay, overhauled and rewritten. Yes, I'll state it once more: such fundamental (x)revisionism definitely didn't go down well with this particular Tolkien/Jackson admirer and lay critic, whatever others have said. No, not by a mile in Shire reckoning  - whether in the Third or the Fourth Age.

Though so many of those aforementioned critics may indeed have found quite to the contrary, to me Peter Jackson and Co's efforts spoke of nothing so much as sheer lethargy, if not downright laziness, while certainly sticking faithfully to that holy grail of modern-day movie maxims that the more action (read: gratuitous violence and battle scenes) the merrier, and the more violent and gory that action the better. And so (xi)'the reality is' (for Jackson Et Al) - not that they're listening much less vaguely interested in what some obscure, self-styled critic such as myself might well say, but anyway - said action (as portrayed so 'effectively' if needlessly in (xii)this second film, and of a piece with that so much in evidence in some of Sir Peter's earlier films like The Frighteners I gather) - is quite simply not even remotely what Tolkien was ever 'on about' in the first (let alone last) place. And that goes for not just The Hobbit but (xiii)even (if to a much lesser extent) The Lord of the Rings itself, which, to this wannabe reviewer at least, shows that PJ seems to have somehow missed the essential spirit of JRR's writing; certainly, the further he has gotten into cinematically recreating his work. And for an erstwhile and extremely staunch, even at times vociferous admirer (and defender) of both the film trilogy(-to-be) (xiii)in general, and An Unexpected Journey in particular - and moreover in their deeply polarized political context - that's a rather unfortunate admission to feel compelled to make. But make it I must. Let me say it again: PJ Et Al's complete remaking of Tolkien's classic work - i.e. their second instalment thereof - sure, definitely comes across powerfully, duly suspenseful and exciting, visually impactful and aesthetically appealing (in most respects), but to someone more than familiar with JRR's story line, it was deeply disappointing.

(i) Accepting each and every one of the (ultimately sixfold) collection of Tolkien classic film adaptations (three Lord of the Rings, three Hobbit) directed by Sir Peter were hardly solely the input of his one mind, indeed being majorly co-written (and co-produced) by the likes of Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens (among many other deeply involved individuals and organizations, such as the famed Weta Workshop), let us, as is commonly done, take it 'as read' that Jackson's own particular, very personal 'take' on these (v)'six' stories doubtless represents the substantial thrust of and tone adopted by JRR Tolkien's volumes' cinematic counterparts.

(ii) Sure, any such cinematic reinterpretation of a written text is, per se, just such a 'something made up of materials formerly used, esp. a restatement in different words of ideas already expressed by oneself or someone else'). And yep, you guessed it, a definition from my trusty 'ole Chambers Concise Dictionary. 

(iii) But perhaps not so very unexplainable in view of the intensity, yea the vehemence of the denunciation (from so many quarters) of An Unexpected Journey almost as soon as it premiered. Which patent hostility (towards Sir Peter Jackson in particular) I have little doubt had a lot more to do with many (such) peoples' contempt for the politics involved in the (New Zealand) Government's decision - in connection with Warner Brothers - to salvage the Hobbit film trilogy for these shores. And as is such a well-documented psychological phenomenon in such circumstances, i.e. whenever people go to one extreme upon an argument or issue, yet inwardly cannot dodge from a very real sense of 'the guilties' for adopting such unreasonable partisanship, the very next moment (or 'Nekminute' as our beloved Pita Sharples might well have put it) they then veer off to the entirely opposite pole (of said dispute) in order to compensate (subconsciously) for an inescapable sense of having transgressed their inner moral code(s).

(iv) Though many Tolkien scholars and fans reckon The Silmarillion represents the summit of JRR's genius and literary achievement.  

(v) Noting, once again, that JRR originally produced The Hobbit as just one book, and, by contrast, wrote The Lord of the Rings 'tripartite' (i.e. in three (main, distinct) parts) - or (essentially) as a triad or trilogy; yet where each major division of which (The Fellowship of the Ring, The (vi)Twin/Two Towers, and The Return of the King) itself is, as Tolkien himself has clearly specified on his contents and (various interspersed) subtitle pages, composed of two books. 

(vi) A quite unintended 'pun' (of sorts), as The Two Towers' release 'coincided' (a year on, admittedly) with the literally earth-shaking and metaphorically earth-shattering events of '9/11' (with, of course, the destruction, conspiratorial or otherwise, of New York City's (then) 'Twin Towers'). But much more than that, the then American (Bush #2) Administration was criticized by some as utilizing the all-too-evident militarism associated with that second film to justify its manner of dealing with and to those world-terrorizing events. Or, even more specifically, of adopting a similar approach (by readily utilizing the selfsame background pretext) in the subsequent (spectacularly unsuccessful) attempt (of George W and Tony Blair) to rally the world (anew) against brutal dictator Saddam Hussein in order to justify the Iraqi invasion and overthrow of his regime; in the process employing the ready-made metaphor of (the collective forces of) good versus (the amassed hordes of) evil. (A rather useful adjunct to such an effort indeed.)

(vii) Here I am but referring to the general comments and observations that have issued in the days immediately following the second film's premiering both worldwide and in New Zealand - certainly not to any review, as I have thus far (and no, I won't be touching wood for good measure), scrupulously avoided reading or listening in to any; save, admittedly, to hearing the odd word or phrase thereabouts. But I might well comment upon such at a later juncture  - but post my various Hobbit film #2 blogpostings - so as to avoid, not just being influenced by, but also the charge of being a mere copycat of others' observations thereabouts. (Though due to ever-hard-to-avoid Christmassy/New Years holiday 'stuff' (that affects us all to some extent) I've been duly frustrated and thwarted in almost every single attempt to complete these various reviews, scribbled semi-indecipherably in the final moments of the film and/or the minutes and hour immediately following my first and second viewings (seen back-to-back on the (premiere day)12th of December evening, and Dec.13th morning.) This time my theatre-going was restricted to the 2D and HFR (High Frame Rate) 3D versions respectively, seen within half a day of one another to help make my observations fresh and resonant upon writing up. (The first film I viewed in all three formats, and I (viii)plan to see the final in 'just' the HFR 3D version in which it has been especially shot.)

(viii) I thus feel I'm 'doing my bit' to support Sir Peter and Co in their admirable - my own significant (already and/or still to be enunciated) reservations notwithstanding - efforts and determination to keep the production on shore (i.e. in God's (One and Only) Own), despite numerous and various obstacles thereunto with which most kiwis will be only too familiar. On top of my (ix)continually thwarted attempts to get a part on one of the films during one of the various nationwide auditioning events held around the nation from late 2010 into 2012, which effort cost me $59 for a return bus ticket to Oamaru. And that for a role, presumably as a man (as opposed to a hobbit, a dwarf or an elf etc) in Lake-town (which features in this second film and of course in the soon upcoming final one, where the spectacular battle royale of Smaug the Dragon will be hosted).

(ix) Though a fellow bus traveller from my home-town of Dunedin convinced me in no uncertain terms that my distinctive, unique bearded appearance - earning references to the Old Testament prophet Elijah by certain relatives - would've definitely earned me a part upon the Lord of the Rings' film trilogy upon which he himself had had a part.

(x) Thus making or manufacturing 'a new, improved version' (as my trusty Chambers Concise Dictionary defines 'revise') of JRR's famous kids' adventure - not. Indeed, my reaction during and after my 'eureka' moment when the penny dropped within and I suddenly realized precisely what was going on was a good mixture of the various elements now commonly recognized as essential parts of the grief process, whether in the precise order normally gone through or otherwise. (I'm neither sure nor do I really care.) Alarm and sheer amazement that this was actually going on. A sinking feeling within, answering to the numbness that follows the initial shock. Incredulity (having always believed much better things of Jackson Et Al) - as in disbelief and denial. Depression - if in a majorly diminished form - that PJ & Co could have sunken so low. Anger, or at least a strong, if not overpowering, sense of annoyance and irritation, that they could have such audacious gall and sheer cheek. Yet - if in a highly muted form - an ultimate acceptance that this was the new level to which such (justly) popular movie-makers were evidently prepared to go to regain the plaudits (alongside the Academy Award/s) they felt they deserved and for which they were so unkindly - yet oh so predictably - denied for the first film.

(xi) A much in vogue prepositional phrase these days - so frequently employed indeed by Aotearoa's Prime Minister-in-waiting (for longer than he realizes!) Steven Joyce - with which I am ordinarily much annoyed. (But sometimes such overused and abused colloquialisms express matters more usefully than any others.)

(xii) Though I'll readily grant that the first Hobbit movie also, and prominently at that, featured and greatly expanded the action scenes (with their accompanying violence) of the first third of Tolkien's Hobbit. Though naturally it could easily be argued that this (first) part of the tale - like the last (third) part still to come to an even greater extent - does actually have quite an emphasis upon and inclusion of battle scenes of various kinds. 

(xiii) Though, as mentioned earlier, I quickly fell in love with all three Rings' films, having been especially taken with the first, Fellowship of the Ring. Just as I've since experienced with An Unexpected Journey, the characterization in all three Rings' movies impressed me hugely - an 'element' of course usually central and critical to any even halfway decent, worthwhile movie adaptation of a popular novel. But my esteem for PJ & Co's seminal work has ever included certain serious reservations, to discuss which this obviously isn't the place (even were there the space). Suffice to say certain criticisms I've here (and elsewhere) made of  Desolation, and even of Unexpected Journey (such as in (xii) immediately above) will do for the present. And here it's with PJ Et Al's 'mocking-up' of the two rather distinctive overall story lines into (xiv)one grand, overarching design and framework as it were, evidenced nowhere clearer that in The Desolation of Smaug.

(xiv) Hardly for a moment denying that Tolkien himself undoubtedly had such a 'meta-narrative' in the background of and to all his writings upon Middle Earth - including of course his other famed tome entitled The Silmarillion. Nevertheless my argument in regards to this second Hobbit film is of a different and much more particular, even nuanced and subtle - but none less important - character.

The (PJ version) Hobbit Film #2: Part 1b: The Power of Wielding The One Cinematic Interpretation Sees Wonderful Childhood Hobbit Fantasy Morph Into Lord of the Rings Lookalike

Okay, I'll concede the point, indeed it surely goes without saying: Peter Jackson (& Co's) ability to put together an action-packed thriller high in adrenaline rushes and roller-coaster momentum crescendoing and cascading from scene to scene is completely unrivalled; it stands entirely in a class of its own. Yes sirree, Jackson and Weta Workshop (Et Al) are unqualified masters of their cinematic craft. But 'a place for everything, and everything in its [proper, appropriate] place'. And adrenaline rushes and emotional highs can, apparently - speaking now as a lifetime non-drug user and lifelong teetotaller (and unapologetic 'wowser') - be had in all manner of (differing) ways. And, sad to say, and to have to inform Sir Peter & Co: an unrelenting, continuous rush of adrenaline, in and of itself, does not - per se - a good film make. No, not in the least.

So what exactly am I getting at? Essentially, that by taking extreme liberties with JRR Tolkien's text - by seeing it impurely and solely through an adult, Lord of the Rings-centred lens and perspective (and that of the PJ cinematic variety) - Jackson Et Al have effectively created a series of Rings' prequels. So thus far we have: Prequel One: An Unexpected Journey; and Prequel Two: The Desolation of Smaug. And presumably - by mid-2014 - Prequel Three: There and Back Again. So that anything and everything pertaining to the Rings' film trilogy is fair game to be automatically transferred to JRR's earlier (chronologically and writing-wise) kids' adventure; irrespective of whether The Hobbit was created and written with such a textual crossover in mind. Which by all accounts, including a close or simply a reasonable reading of Tolkien's famed childhood tale, suggests, nay screams out - in neon colours, folks - it wasn't! And regardless of whether such a (cinematic) treatment ultimately does a huge disservice to Tolkien and his literary legacy; which I believe it assuredly does. And may I kindly, and ever so gently suggest that not all the fancy cinematic tricks (CGI included) nor all the Rings' extras and stunt doubles can ever put this particular kids' classic back together again.

But let me explain further. The characterizations in Desolation, while generally more than adequate - that is, as far as they went - were also not a bar upon An Unexpected Journey, which was a leaf out of The Fellowship of the Ring film's superlative quality. Despite this admirable effort, however, these touches were unable to make up for the film's major, irredeemable flaw: the cinematographers' essential *'adultification' of JRR's text. And even here [in Desolation's casting and characterization], amidst what was, in my book, one of the film's better aspects, there were glaring deficiencies.

While it could certainly be said that the film's star attraction, the hobbit Bilbo, lived up to his own well-deserved reputation - as, among much else, the master of the understatement and numerous 'underplayed' coups de grace - this was only to the extent that we were granted actual close-up scenes of and with him: precious few when compared with Tolkien's text. Thorin and his dwarf company also valiantly rose to the challenge - in terms of meeting (if not excelling) character expectations - though Thorin's empty or elsewise extremely foolhardy bravado in the very face of Smaug stretched credulity. Gandalf had aged considerably (in more ways than one - though facial lines said it all - and so his youthful extreme makeover in the 'subsequent' Rings' films will be a great relief when he revisits those decade-old performances.) And as for the premiering Wood-elves, and especially Tauriel and Legolas, they certainly delivered - but what precisely they delivered is entirely another matter. Sure, they quite definitely excelled in executing the PJ-promoted action boy (and girl) image, but perhaps, as with me, that didn't really quite 'do it' for you. No, I mean really. Again, in light of, or in comparison to, the exemplary base text of The Hobbit.

Thankfully Thranduil, the Woodland King, presented a more well-rounded all-purpose persona, 'catching' befittingly kingly overbearing and imperious tones alongside a suitably graceful, majestic stature and dignified mien so well (if briefly) portrayed by Tolkien's original character. But to me, anyhow, overall little new in terms of characterization was added (except vis-a-vis the people in Lake-town - or rather, the Master, his Chief Steward and Bard's children in particular). And moreover, the ***central antagonist, Smaug, while physically conveyed ever so cleverly, even masterfully, utterly lacked the subtleties and nuances peculiar to dragons commonplace in ancient mythologies that could legitimately have been expected, and which Tolkien himself undeniably conveyed in spectacular fashion. Being seemingly in the decided minority in this instance doesn't really bother me - however lonely a position it might well place me in - as, no matter how loath I am to be lumped in with the much (and oftentimes in my view justly) maligned coterie of 'pedants', sometimes - yes, let the truth be told - even the mere semblance of faithfulness to a (particular) text really does matter. Yes, fair dinkum. And especially so when the original's as brilliantly composed as so many of us fondly recall - and know - Tolkien's is.

But to get down to the nitty-gritty specifics, let me say the following. Smaug the Magnificant's (the 'Calamity of Calamities')'s marvellous physique, unique power, and unsleeping malice - while being exceptionally well captured, there's little doubt (in my mind, anyway) - was belied implicitly in the all too evident, utter futility of Smaug's ongoing attempts to raise hell or high water (and preferably both at the selfsame time) in relation to his dwarf and hobbit assailants (whose relative puniness and vulnerability simply went without saying). And this despite volcanic lava flows (****'coulees', apparently) of extraordinary heat and velocity and intensity; and irrespective of Smaug's hulking mass and strength, and vastly superior, literal fire-power. And so, besides witnessing the complete jettisoning of all subtlety in Smaug's characterization, we were 'entertained' to the following surreal spectacle: the bizarre, inexplicable behaviour of the dwarf horde, foolhardily - in some rearguard, last-ditch, last stand act - seeking to tackle Smaug head on in his all but impregnable fortress-stronghold 'Under the Mountain'. The odds could hardly have been more lopsided - or more palpably pathetic, pitiable and pitiful. Not to mention piteous and pitiless. Yes, all of the above plus all the rest, with knobs (and scales) on.

Again, much like the world of Middle Earth in one corner over against Sauron the Terrible in the other. Only, this was supposedly not another re-enactment of Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, but a cinematic interpretation of his equally popular (with a much more youthful 'set') The Hobbit. A small matter worthy of some consideration you might think. This attempt, again, to mix and match 'previews of coming attractions' - i.e. the (chronologically later) Rings film trilogy's all-encompassing 'war of the world' - seemed a bit of a 'try (too) hard' for me, on numerous occasions and in all sorts of ways.

In this regard, one undoubtedly much-overlooked way this took place was in the frequent (I noted on at least three occasions, though even one time would be once too often) transposing, almost word-for-word, of various mini-speeches interspersed throughout the Rings' movies - and invariably to great effect in those films. Yes, awfully, worryingly close to verbatim at times, but even if the resemblance hadn't been so very close, these Lord of the Rings filmic equivalents were not only tiresome, after initially being somewhat of a shock to the system, for their sheer audacity - but, as the movie progressed, actually became for me rather predictable, and believe you me I was not 'disappointed' - while of course essentially becoming wholly so (disenchanted with this caper, that is). In a subsequent mini-review I will specify a whole slew of such examples, something that a Tolkien and Peter Jackson fan such as myself actually finds somewhat tedious but sadly all too necessary in regards to this second Hobbit film. The Desolation of Smaug? Methinks 'The Desolation of The Hobbit' would capture the movie's flavour more aptly.

*A new term I've just manufactured for the occasion: signifying where creative types take something meant primarily if not exclusively for a younger, childhood audience and twist, morph and otherwise 'mix 'n match' it to cater for and to an adult clientele. Doing on a cinematic plane what our society has long since tended to do on a psycho-emotional level: making our youth increasingly precocious at an ever younger age, thus effectively nullifying their age of childhood innocence and imposing upon them - by arrogant, know-it-all, adult-decreed fiat - an **adultified (**word creation #2) understanding of the world - in this case, of course, the world of Middle Earth. (A psychosomatic equivalent to what our age of advanced scientific innovation and techno-savvy expertise, with its hotchpotch of cloning, genetic modification/engineering and atomizing (just for starters), is already well along the road of doing, on an exponentially exploding if 'merely' physical level, for coming generations. Just as pesticides, insecticides, super-hormones and antibiotics have already long since tended to do (and in fact been well-established as doing) for at least a sizeable number of younger people in especially 'the third world': hastening on puberty and all the changes associated therewith.

***Yes, I know that Sauron - even in pure spirit form - clearly is The Desolation of Smaug's major villain/nasty/'bad guy' (and obviously way exceeding either Azog the Defiler or Smaug the Magnificent in persona and/or power). But excuse me if you will, it's just that I've yet to come across Sauron in my various readings of The Hobbit. Gee whiz, I really must've not been paying proper attention whilst reading and rereading Tolkien's beloved kids' fantasy over recent years, to think that I've managed to completely miss, nay utterly bypass, such a central, critical element: i.e. the centrality of Sauron The Terrible. Hey, but perhaps 4th (or is that 5th?) time lucky, when I - hopefully - reread the book again after the final instalment in PJ's trilogy. You just never know, do ya.

****A new word I chanced across while editing this post. As they say, you learn something new every day.