thoughts on the hobbitses (or part 2)

A few years ago, the mind of James Cameron took a recycled plotline and dressed it up with fancy computer graphics and out came Avatar, or as I like to call it: Blue Pocahontas in Space with No Musical Numbers. The Western-European clashing with an indignant people metaphor had been played out on the big screen several times before, but the stunning visual effects of some distant planet was enough to distract people from the fact that this plot had been explored before, and that the acting and storytelling simply wasn’t that great.

(This is a continuation of some previous thoughts)

In today’s cinema, the use of CGI lets movie makers create expansive, beautiful, detailed worlds. Despite what your feelings about the overuse of this technology, it is impossible to deny the beauty of the environments they create in contrast to a green screen. CGI allows for extended and more intricate battle and action sequences. Watching a fight unfold on screen is infinitely more exciting and infinitely less confusing than reading a play by play of the mechanics of a swordsman.

A movie maker only has a few short (or long, depending on how much you enjoy the film) hours to sweep the audience into the fictional world. Some do this by throwing the viewer into the world through action sequence after action sequence, to get the heart pumping, to hurry up and get into the thrill ride without paying attention to the rest of the surroundings. And when the viewer does get a chance to catch his breath, he will see beautifully rendered computer generated environments and then after a brief reprise, it is back to the action.

However, what makes a fictional world come to life is not look of the surroundings, but the people and creatures who populate them. Are they believable? Can they sustain an existence in that universe after the screen has gone black, or do they exist simply for the purposes of moving the plot forward?

There are several themes present in Tolkien’s works. This idea of pride and corrupting power, the necessity and strength of camaraderie and brotherhood, are both set against a much larger backdrop of a cosmic clash between good and evil. The goal film adaptations should bring these themes to the screen, where the characters who play their roles are believable and can be empathized with. These overarching themes are definitely present in the latest Hobbit film, but will the viewer care about them?

In all of Tolkien’s books, he is very deliberate. He takes the time to make sure every detail is known in his long and extended conversation with the reader. He has the page space to do so. And this adds to the feeling that Bilbo’s adventure is a long (unexpected) journey. There is a lot of walking to be done, and much to be experienced in this expansive Middle-earth that Bilbo is slowly discovering.

The Desolation of Smaug contrasted with the book, is more of a sprint, an elaborate chase scene. It is one that looks great on screen, that will keep one entertained, but at the end of the day, it could be argued that it is no more than a glorified action movie with its themes tucked away in the background, and when the quieter moments come the viewer is reminded that those themes are still there, but we must ask ourselves, do we care? Do we remember why we are here in the first place? Is the stubborn pride of the dwarves, the allure of power and the symbolism of the Arkenstone, do they justify the action that has taken place on screen? Does the tension between elf and dwarf feel organic or is it forced? When one crosses party lines to help the other side, is it groundbreaking or predictable? Are the citizens of Lake-town honest hardworking people who are have slaved under the rule of a drunken corrupt master or do they just populate the poverty stricken city as a collective damsel  in distress awaiting their heroes?

The underlying question is this: Is the world that the movie portrays a world where the audience can work, breathe, and live in, or is it just a pretty picture on the wall to be admired from a distance, and then after enough time has passed, they can move on to the next one?

Action movies are praised for the fight scenes, the car chases, the explosions, and the carnage. Plot holes abound in these types. But people don’t go into these movies expecting some sort of life lesson or revelation. Relationships are thrown in to add a douse of humanity, an obligatory love interest, some cheesy dialogue, and the audience bemoans these scenes and simply wants to get back to the action.

The preface to Tolkien’s Epic trilogy should establish familiar themes that will continue through the rest of the story and shed light on the lesser known corners of Middle-earth. The Hobbit movies certainly attempt to do so. Perhaps it is dealt an unfortunate task and an impossible follow up to the trilogy that truly transported audiences to Middle-earth a decade ago. Still, it is very possible. If a young sixth grader like myself many years ago could pick up The Hobbit and stumble through words that were too big and concepts that I did not fully understand, then surely, movie makers who are much smarter than I was once can recapture that same awe on the screen.

It happened once before. I wish it would happen again.