Hobbit forming
I have very vague, dimming memories of reading J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit when I was a young lad: dimmer than a Misty Mountain morning over Mordor. I must say it didn’t do much for me. Fantasy lit was at that time the domain of displaced geeks who played Dungeons & Dragons on the weekends (now those geeks have become billionaires). I preferred monster movies and science fiction.
But I enjoyed most of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, even though (I confess) I’ve never read it all. Now comes The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, the first chapter in what is set to be yet another trilogy. Clearly the Gollum-like filmmakers were eyeing some very “precioussss” box office returns.
The difference is, LOTR amounts to well over a thousand pages; The Hobbit, in comparison, is a wee book, only some 300 pages. So how do you spread this across three movies, each with a running length of close to three hours? Answer: Bring on the legions of Orcs, Trolls and Goblins! If the majestic battles of the LOTR trilogy whet your appetite, feast your eyes on dwarves doing endless battle with CGI wolves, dragons and nasty-looking Goblins (the leader of which appears to have a sagging scrotum for a chin). Really, now. Tolkien fans will tell you: The Hobbit is a small thing, a children’s book; LOTR is an epic. The effort of trying to stretch a children’s book to epic proportions grinds and creaks at some points.
Yet surprisingly, the storyline (fleshed out by Fran Walsh again) manages to make sense, balancing humor, wit, affection and exposition, even though I confess to napping for about 20 minutes somewhere in the first half of The Hobbit (the subtitle of which my wife instantly redubbed “An Endless Journey”). At least I got the basic plot points: Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) is recruited by Gandolf the Grey (Ian McKellan) to accompany the displaced Dwarves on a journey to Lonely Mountain, there to recover their gold and stolen booty from a rather possessive dragon known as Smaug. Along the way, they meet another wizard, Radagast, who warns them of a dead forest in their path inhabited by a necromancer, a satanic presence in human form. (And no, I didn’t crib all of the above straight from Wikipedia; just most of it.) In addition you have Orcs who hate “Dwarf-scum” on their trail, plus a seriously old Christopher Lee babbling on endlessly as Saruman the White, long before he becomes truly evil in the LOTR trilogy.
In short, it’s a lot for a non-Hobbit fan to gobble up, yet the old LOTR gang is brought back to resurrect a lot of the magic. It’s worth noting that the much-hyped 48 frames per second shooting speed for The Hobbit wasn’t just techie talk: twice as many frames does result in some visually stunning tableaux, probably best experienced in 3D: the impromptu spread of food — delicious ham, cheese and bread — on Bilbo’s table in the opening sequence looks good enough to eat; the Dwarves’ underground mines are beautifully rendered; and the Elves’ lair of Rivendell is, as usual, a visual feast.
Also as usual, McKellan is a delight to watch as Gandolf. He conveys a wizened wizard who seems mostly full of blarney, until the chips are down and he makes with the serious sorcery. Freeman — fresh from his role as Dr. Watson in the BBC’s Sherlock series — brings his seasoned array of bemused double-takes to the role of Baggins, but much more: we believe the dude’s a Hobbit by the end, and not just a Hobbit, but “Bilbo Baggins of Baggins End.” He handles the reluctant hero role better than any other pint-sized British actor could, whether cautiously sucking on a pipe, or first discovering the awesome power of his Elven shortsword (which glows blue — hello, paging Dr. Freud!).
Yet the film’s best moments belong to his scenes with Gollum, an unfortunate creature brought to life yet again by Andy Serkis (it’s worth noting what a talent this guy is; not only did he serve as second unit director on the film, he’s also played, through motion-capture technology, Caesar in Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Captain Haddock in The Adventures of TinTin, and done an amazing impersonation of Martin Hannett, lunatic producer of Joy Division, in 24 Hour Party People. Now that’s range.) When Gollum comes onscreen, we once again get chillses down our spines: the character’s signature mix of rage, self-loathing and pitiable isolation are on full display as he and Baggins engage in a lethal battle of riddles. This moment will, of course, set in motion the later Lord of the Rings quest.
For people into casting choices, there’s the surprise of finding that Freeman’s Sherlock cohort, Benedict Cumberbatch, has a brief appearance as the necromancer, seen only in a dark silhouette. No doubt more of him will be revealed in Part Two. Both Hugo Weaving and Cate Blanchett strut the stage as Elves preparing themselves to aid the Dwarves in their journey. And I was informed that one of the Elves on hand was none other than Bret McKenzie, half of the singing duo Flight of the Conchords. There’s some New Zealand nepotism for you.
The themes, if you will, are gently sprinkled over the narrative, not slathered on with a butter knife: Baggins’ firm attachment to his quiet country home, versus his new acquaintances’ quest for their long-lost home — in short, “home.”
My main beef with the film is its inexplicable length (169 minutes, 40 of which could have been painlessly snipped) and the endless parade of chases — Dwarves being chased by Trolls, Radagast and his pack of rabbits being chased by Orcs, et cetera — usually leading to the Dwarves dangling from some spindly branches or dodgy bridgework above a precipitous canyon. It’s a scene repeated so many times in various guises that I could only be reminded of Peter Jackson’s remake of King Kong, which featured similar perils played out endlessly on Skull Island. But still, the 1933 Kong seems to be a root fantasy memory for Jackson, who no doubt is one of those kids who read all the Tolkien books at a young age and played Dungeons & Dragons on the weekends and is, by now I would imagine, a certified billionaire.
