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.
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.
(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)?
(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.
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