"Mt. Doom" isn't lazy!

I have discovered a blog after mine own heart.  Though I must disagree with the author in the humor behind the MEME that faults Tolkien for choosing a "lame" "plain" name for the volcano in Mordor (otherwise known as Orodruin), the short essay's thesis is pleasing to my inner Tolkien nerd: "‘Mount Doom’ was not chosen to be vaguely menacing, like some comic book villain calling himself ‘Dr. Doom!' Tolkien uses the word ‘doom’ in a very particular (and very old) sense, which has huge symbolic significance for the story as a whole."

http://observationdeck.io9.com/what-does-tolkien-mean-by-the-word-doom-1166561920

Merry Christmas!

Jesus Christ, "being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!  Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."  ~Philippians 2:6-11

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Letdown

[I originally intended to write this review the day after I first saw The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.  At the time, I was still in a huff over the (as I saw and see them) unreasonable deviations from the original book, but after a few initial notes I put off what I hoped to make a masterpiece of cinema criticism until such a time as I could devote proper attention to the effort.  Then the first ad for The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug arrived and I decided that now was the time to inform the public of my views, but before I could get started again the blue-ray edition of the first movie was released, which seemed a more appropriate date, etc.  Now, a year later and only one week from the premier of the anticipated sequel, I have finally taken time to finish what I started.  My original discontent over Jackson’s adaptation has since dissipated and I confess myself a terrific fan of the new trilogy.  So while I remain disappointed by what The Hobbit could have been, I prefer to think that Jackson’s Lord of the Rings was so breathtakingly masterful that any subsequent efforts will naturally pale in comparison.  Mr. Jackson, it is easy to criticize from an armchair, my hat is off for realizing my childhood dreams ten years ago, and I look forward to your new interpretation this Christmas!] 

I read a review of the Lord of the Rings trilogy in PS3 Magazine a few years ago that started with the line, “Peter Jackson is going to heaven.”  Regarding the first trilogy, I am in complete agreement, and if God allowed me a place on His tribunal, Jackson would definitely have my vote.  Yet if that is true on account of his work of ten years gone, then this new endeavor looks to be a one-way ticket to Purgatorio.  Whereas The Lord of the Rings trilogy is almost completely true to the books, including most of the added material that Tolkien only hinted at, Jackson’s An Unexpected Journey better fits with the “based on” attribution appropriately applied to works by Disney.  That is not to say that An Unexpected Journey is not any good, it is just not The Hobbit.

What it got right

First, let me pause to point out that which is simply amazing about the movie.  In keeping with his style from LOTR, Jackson’s realization of Middle Earth is absolutely stunning.  The dwarvish dominion of Erebor evokes the almost Babylonian culture only hinted at in Gimli’s character of ten years ago, as do the elves of Mirkwood for Legolas; the human trade city of Dale is cast in a Tibetan-steppe realization of Venice, given its location to the northeast of Middle Earth; and the previously established locales are faithfully reproduced from Bag-End to Rivendell.  New Zealand returns in all its taunting glory through Jackson’s beloved wide shots, in which characters both new and returning go traipsing past monuments and backdrops that will bring tears to the eyes of Middle-Earth fans. 

The filming, too, is first class, combining both the previously seen camera work with the latest CGI, easily on par with the very best that Avatar had to offer.  While I have not watched An Unexpected Journey in the new digital style that garnered much attention in pre-release reviews, the quality of the filming itself was certainly marvelous.  The Shire’s green possesses an intensity verging on neon, while the mounds of gold in Erebor are all but blinding in the torchlight as Jackson utilizes extreme contrasts of lighted areas set against darkly shadowed recesses.  This is put to best use in a breathtaking battle sequence that explains Thorin’s background after the loss of his home to the dragon, wherein uncountable dwarves and orcs engage in a swirling slow-motion melee that picks out each and every sword swing and war face in metallic detail.  

Battle of Azanulbizar

As for the casting and character design, somebody has a knack for perfection.  In addition to the returning cast, the dwarves broke every Hildebrandt brothers and Alan Lee stereotype out there, and within the first several moments each dwarf is a unique man.  The one sad thing about this plethora of newcomers is that many of them remain unremarkable past their truly remarkable appearances and one-liners.  I read an interview wherein Jackson said that he was afraid of attempting to film The Hobbit on account of the sheer number of main characters, and this fear appears to have unfortunately played out onscreen, with most of the dwarves remaining more or less one-dimensional until the hugely entertaining escape from Goblin Town.  Though I must observe that The Avengers managed to make something out of each of their heroes, if just briefly, perhaps it is too much to ask for regarding a cast that, even in the original, was really restricted to two or three lead dwarves.  

General Storyline Abuse

So in many ways, the Hobbit feels remarkably different from its predecessors, much like the new Star Wars trilogy when compared to the classics.  Such positive changes are indicative of an artist at work, Jackson’s style, techniques, and tastes fluctuating with the progression of his career.  But it is in the content of the movie, in the actions of the cast and the dialogue, where An Unexpected Journey takes a drastic turn from before.  In some ways, this takes the form of what might pass for writer’s block, or as though the screenwriters spent the weekend rewatching LOTR to get in the proper frame of mind, and thus sadly letting too much of the old trilogy infuse their new work.  This is first noticeable in the little odes to The Fellowship, which are certainly welcome, such as Gandalf’s repeated entanglements with Bag End’s chandeliers.  But the wizard does not stop there, instead looking to Moria’s Balrog scene as he again pulls a Moses and breaks a stone with his staff, and later gathers up a convenient moth to reenact the calling of the eagles.  Through Gandalf’s antics alone, one begins to suspect that one has seen this movie before.  But Jackson does not stop there.  As did Frodo in the Prancing Pony, Bilbo discovers the power of the Ring through an unfortunate tumble and superhuman dexterity and presence of mind that lands the Ring on his finger, recreating that iconic shot in every detail except Elijah Wood’s horrified intensity.  The wargs on the trail invoke a clunky Dark Riders/uruk-hai hybrid (more on that below), and the final boss fight even sees Thorin beaten down a la Sean Bean’s Boromir, complete with a menacing orc preparing the final blow before Aragorn (or in this case, Bilbo), executes a flying tackle from stage left at the last moment.

But besides Gandalf’s unfortunate special awareness in Bag-End, all is well until Thorin and Company leave the Shire.  Then comes the meeting with the trolls, wherein Bilbo is fussily pushed forward to try his hand at robbery.  But here the content drastically breaks from that of the book: Tolken has the adventurers caught up in a rain storm when they catch sight of the fire, which promise of warmth and shelter entices them into a trap, a tense yet humorous event as Gandalf reappears to pull some mimicry shenanigans to save the captured dwarves.  In the movie adaptation, however, Fili and Kili notice that some of their ponies have been stolen, which prompts them to send “the burglar” to investigate and/or free the poor animals.  Before long, Bilbo’s cover is blown as he attempts to spring Myrtle and Mindy, and the trap is replaced with a riotous melee that showcases the mad fighting skills of the dwarves, complete with somersaults and similar acrobatics, whereafter Bilbo takes on the role of distracting the trolls til daybreak.  Is such admittedly tame adaptation really that objectionable?  Sadly (with the exception of the brilliant fight scene), very much so.

Now I realize that there were some changes made to the books’ plot in the original trilogy, many much more drastic than that just detailed above.  Faramir became a Ring-grabber, Treebeard was such a gentle giant that it took Hobbit ingenuity and a lecture to convince him to dismantle Isengard, and the ghosts of Dunharrow made themselves known on the Pelennor Fields.  These were jarring moments, to be sure, and even now I cringe a little inside when Faramir goes dragging Frodo, Sam, and Gollum into war torn Osgiliath, but each of these changes did not derail the book’s plot or ruin major character development (Faramir lets Frodo leave, Treebeard still calls the Ents to battle), and in the case of the ghosts, it helped maintain movie integrity.  In the Return of the King, Aragorn drums up the ghosts for battle, not outside the gates of the White City, but at the Stone of Erech some three hundred miles distant, and then they proceed to whup swarthy pirate tush in a swashbuckling ghostly hunt that sees off the raiders and frees up vital militia forces, who set sail on the captured vessels (after Aragorn releases the ghosts) and land at the docks at Harlond in time to save the beleaguered Rohirrim.  Almost all of this occurs “offscreen” and involves several sub-plots and narratives, to say nothing of numerous extra support characters, all lovingly detailed by Tolkien in such a way as to demand space for a fourth entry in Jackson’s trilogy.  So much as I would have loved to see an extra two hours tucked into the middle of an already stuffed blockbuster epic, the decision to promote the ghosts to the front lines of the War of the Ring makes perfect movie sense. 

Not so, The Hobbit.

The Orc

As a much shorter work, The Hobbit is perfect for fleshing out to trilogy dimensions.  Its characters are diverse and many are fully developed, it draws upon a rich history that Tolkien had already been crafting since his tenure in the trenches of WWI, and hints at whole episodes that occur, again, “offscreen,” such as Gandalf’s sleuthing expedition to Dol Guldor, which is indeed a major plot point of the upcoming Desolation of Smaug.  But far from remaining faithful to the book’s program, Jackson decided to throw a wrench into Tolkien’s finely tuned gears: Azog, the Pale Orc. 

Sinister? No, the symmetrical scars are merely disturbing

The inclusion of Azog in An Unexpected Journey feels downright bizarre and comes off as depressingly corny: rather than the scruffy Ahab seeking vengeance upon the White Whale for the loss of his leg, we find a white orc (who bears compelling resemblance to both a shark and the alien villains from I Am Number Four) seeking vengeance upon the scruffy Thorin for the loss of his arm.  To be fair, the derivation is all Tolkien, who crafted a glorious dwarvish history that culminates in a battle on the front step of Moria, and featuring Azog, Thorin, and other worthies of the Tolkien universe.  But here is the crucial bit: Azog dies.  Yes he kills King Thror, yes Thorin snatches up an oak branch in lieu of a shield, but Azog is gutted by good dwarvish steel at day’s end (actually by Thorin’s younger cousin, Dain, but let’s not split hairs).  Why bring him back?

There are a couple different reasons that come to mind.  With the third movie fast approaching, one wonders if Jackson was perhaps seeking a more concrete rationale for the appearance of goblins and wargs at the Battle of Five Armies, and so decided to draw upon the perhaps-underplayed orcish/warg relationship hinted at in The Two Towers and Return of the King, while tying in the final events of An Unexpected Journey: the wargs, orcs, and burning trees.  This seems a bit unnecessary to me, since Tolkien already thought up a reason for the final battle: Azog had a son, Bolg, who apparently had some sort of vendetta against Dain for his father’s death (to say nothing of dragon treasure).  There it is, Mr. Jackson, problem solved!  A few scenes of plotting and scheming would have set Bolg up as the perfect “unexpected” villain, set to burst on the scene for movie #3. Interestingly, I believe Bolg is slated to appear in The Desolation of Smaug, though what role he plays in the film remains to be seen.

More likely, though, the episodic dangers facing Thorin and Company did not strike Jackson as threat enough compared to the Black Riders of The Fellowship, so he threw in a pack of angry wolf riders to give Thorin an archenemy worthy of a grudge match.  But here is the problem with this twist: Thorin does not need an archenemy, he has Smaug, the dragon that destroyed his childhood home!  “But isn’t Smaug far away and unassailable?  He’s a dragon!”  The former point is of little consequence; after all, many villains appear only at the end of the journey, and sometimes only a few seconds’ worth of appearances at key points in the narrative are all it takes to remind viewers of whom they are to hate.  As for the second point, since when did heroes need to actually chop on their enemies?  There are many examples of protagonists engaging far off or intangible foes: Scarlet O’Hara swore to defeat poverty at all costs in Gone with the Wind, William Wilberforce fought to end the trans-Atlantic slave trade in Amazing Grace.  Thorin Oakenshield does not need a special orc to make him a compelling and conflicted character.

Through Azog’s intrusion, the warg-riding orcs steal too much of the limelight and play havoc with the storyline, ultimately doing the tale more harm than good.  The addition of Radagast is an element that I was happily anticipating, as his whimsical personality makes a nice contrast with Gandalf’s gruff practicality and Saruman’s domineering authority.  But with the arrival of the orcs, the impact of Radagast’s message (“Sauron’s back!”) is lost in the rampage.  Better to have done away with the orcs and let the company have its danger in the trolls and goblins as Tolkien intended, and then Gandalf’s desire to visit Elrond would have gained added urgency following Radagast’s arrival (and let’s not even start on the unnecessary need to trick the dwarves into visiting Rivendell at all). 

The Hobbit

But the principal casualty of An Unexpected Journey is the book’s titular protagonist himself: Bilbo Baggins.  What Jackson did right in crafting this iconic character was his decision (and perseverance, if I have heard correctly) to cast Martin Freeman in the role of the furry-footed homebody-turned unforeseen hero.  Without a doubt, Freeman is Bilbo, and works innumerable quirks and mannerisms into his performance that capture perfectly the sort of person that has a certain amount of self-importance balanced with a unabashed desire to stay out of adventuresome people’s way, as well as a secret longing for adventure, provided there is an adequate supply of handkerchiefs on hand.  So in this way, Freeman’s portrayal of Mr. Baggins is spot-on.  But again, it is the content of his character, the actions and words that he performs, that woefully deviate from Tolkien’s careful construction.  On screen, Bilbo is the stereotypical Hollywood zero who must prove his worth in the face of verbal abuse heard in corny moments from behind closed doors. 

The beautiful thing about the Bilbo Baggins of The Hobbit is that he spends most of the book being miserable.  He misses his fire, his food, his smokes, and he greatly dislikes the uncomfortable amount of danger his adventures throw at him.  Added to his discomfort is the dismissive treatment received at the hands of the dwarves, who for the most part ignore him until his particular talents are most needed (i.e. the dirty work, which is itself a wonderful commentary on human nature).  He is never in the limelight, and only gains acceptance and respect as the level of his unexpected heroics rises.  Yet in An Unexpected Journey he is constantly on everyone’s minds, first snorted at by the adventuresome dwarves, then repeatedly told that he does not belong.  As if this was not Hollywood enough, there is even the obligatory “sneaking home” scene where Bilbo, offended by Thorin’s harsh criticisms, determines to sneak out and is stopped by the watchful and well-meaning Bofur in a stereotypical argument over the merits of the decision (complete with the groan-worthy unwitting-harsh-comment-about-your-flaws/apology/no-no-I’m-fine-you-go-ahead-and-leave exchange) as a wakeful Thorin listens in while pretending to be asleep. 

As a consequence of his inconsequential participation in the quest, it is the little things that make Bilbo such a compelling character in the novel, and I think this is what Tolkien envisioned all along.  Over and over again, Bilbo is faced with insurmountable obstacles, but when the most stout-hearted dwarf might throw up his hands in despair, or shut himself up in a sulk, Bilbo simply starts moving in the hopes of coming to some answer.  When lost in the darkness of Goblin Town, Bilbo decides that, rather than spend his time moping in one place, he would rather mope while on the move, and so sets out to discover what can be found at the end of the tunnel – he needs no outside prompting because the Took on the inside is driving him forward.  His seemingly random discovery of the Ring, his desperate riddles with Gollum, his escape out of the tunnels, all of these things are the product of a confused homebody wanting only to find a little daylight and something to eat – and once outside, he even comes to the agonizing decision to return to the tunnels in search of his friends on the basis of duty, a favor he soon learns the dwarves are unwilling to do for him. 

None of this is evident in the movie.  Upon waking in the goblin tunnels, Freeman’s Bilbo is not long alone, for Gollum suddenly appears, and though repugnant he clearly knows his way around the tunnels, so why not follow him?  Then he drops the Ring, in brilliant bright-on-dark-contrast slow motion, thus informing Bilbo from the start that this little circle of metal is precious to its former owner.  All agency has been removed from our furry-footed hero.  And that choice to return for his lost friends?  Never made, since Bilbo stumbles across them as they also exit the same cave.

What of the trolls and Bilbo’s cover blown, which was my first significant criticism?  Recall that in the book Bilbo’s Tookish side suddenly flares up for the first time and he sneaks forward to pickpocket one of the trolls, only to be discovered.  In the movie, Bilbo has to slip the troll’s knife to save the ponies, with the same result.  Again, loss of agency.  This before his assumption of Gandalf’s role as lead distraction as the trolls debate their culinary options.  Not only does the dialogue take on qualities perfectly asinine (honestly, “don’t eat the dwarves, they all have parasites”?) but Bilbo is again the zero with the golden wit, whom the jocks never anticipated.  True, Faramir’s character was changed just as drastically, but he was one support character in a Dickensian array of innumerable support, hardly to be compared with Frodo, Sam, or Bilbo. 

Then there is final fight scene, with Bilbo lunging in from the side and actually killing a full-grown orc – presumably one who has spent the entirety of his miserable existence fending off much bigger, nastier attackers striking at equal random.  This was so out of character that…well, that’s enough from me.

So with my main grievances aired at last, I can now rest easy in the knowledge that The Deolation of Smaug will not be The Hobbit 2.0, as the trailers have already clearly shown.  And it is this knowledge, I think, that allows me to appreciate Jackson’s new adaptation.  I went to the midnight release of An Unexpected Journey expecting to watch The Hobbit rather than a loose interpretation, and thus left with a bad taste in my mouth.  As such I hasten to add that none of this has stopped me from putting An Unexpected Journey Extended Edition on my Christmas list, and viewing with undisguised glee each trailer and TV spot that pops up in my Facebook feed.  So what if Azog’s forces his unwelcome snout into “Barrels Out of Bond”?  Lee Pace is Thranduil, the elves get their acrobatics on in the branches of Mirkwood, Evangeline Lilly’s Tauriel might not be as irritating as was Kate Austen of LOST, Stephen Fry turns on the sleaze as Laketown’s Master, and Smaug speaks through the tongue of Benedict “the Voice” Cumberbatch.  What is not to love?

For a more sympathetic reading of Jackson’s treatment of Azog, see MichaelMartinez

For a VERY good, if slightly profanity-laced review of the movie, see The Escapist