The Hobbit: The Desolation of J.R.R. Tolkien

At the beginning of the 21st century, Peter Jackson brought us what I consider to be one of the greatest trilogies of all time (along with all three Toy Storys and Woody Allen's New York trilogy): The Lord of the Rings.  Combining blockbuster action with emotional depth, the LoTR franchise captured the spirit of J.R.R. Tolkien's books as well as any.  The logical conclusion, then, would be to bring LoTR's shorter, gentler prequel The Hobbit to the screen.  Right?  Well, maybe not.  After being moderately pleased with last year's The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (mostly thanks to Martin Freeman and the always-reliable Andy Serkis), I was hopeful that The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug would make (much-needed) improvements.  I hoped wrong.

Before some of you write me off as nothing more than a book purist, let me straighten that out:  I am not someone who hates changes in film adaptions of books.  What I care about is that a movie stays true to the spirit of its source material.  And, with few exceptions, Desolation of Smaug strays far from the spirit of Tolkien's The Hobbit.

Let's start out with the elephant (err, elves) in the room.  I should preface this by stating that I don’t have a problem with Legolas’ (Orlando Bloom, Lord of the Rings) presence; as the prince of Mirkwood, chances are he was there when Thorin and co. got captured.  As for Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly, Lost), female elves exist, so yeah go ahead and make one a flesh-and-blood character.  What I did have a problem with is the way both Legolas and Tauriel were used in the film.  Legsy does nothing except shoot a bunch of orcs, deliver half-baked lines, and get star billing.  For her part, Tauriel serves as the compulsory Strong Female Character.  And then there’s the love triangle between the two elves and Kili (Aidan Turner, The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones) the dwarf.  Yes, it’s your typical contrived, unbelievable, soap opera-y trio of luv.  Furthermore, the film gives us absolutely no reason to think that Tauriel and Legolas even like one another, and no reason for Kili to like Tauriel except the fact that she’s hawt (are we NOT in the 21st century people?).  The worst part is that PJ devotes an abundance of screen time to such a paltry subplot.

Another major issue is Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman, Sherlock) — or the lack thereof.  As previously mentioned, Freeman’s Bilbo made An Unexpected Journey bearable.  After all, it’s through his eyes that we are meant to see the adventure (it’s called The HOBBIT for a reason).  However, in Desolation of Smaug, Jackson inexplicably places our hero in the background; rarely do we get to see scenes from his perspective (more on that later).  Instead, we are treated to scenes of orcs chasing the dwarves, orcs getting killed by Tauriolas, orcs receiving orders from the Necromancer (Benedict Cumberbatch, Sherlock), and orcs attacking the citizens of Laketown.  Because orcs are infinitely more intriguing than, you know actual storytelling.  When not focusing on the orcs, PJ spends most of Bilbo’s screen time depicting Thorin's (Richard Armitage, Robin Hood)  tormented-hero shtick and Gandalf’s (Ian McKellan, Lord of the Rings) vacation to visit the Necromancer’s casa.  All good and fine, but Bilbo’s journey is practically pushed to the side — nearly gone are his struggles of trying to fit in with the company and find his courage, and the important undertone of Thorin seeing Bilbo as expendable is mentioned, then swept aside.

Yet, the Twilight reenactment and AWOL leading man would be almost forgivable if not for Desolation of Smaug’s utter lack of uniqueness.  The Hobbit, in novel form, was written with a sense of wonder and whimsy, both of which are completely lost in translation.  Instead, Peter Jackson opts for more action, more orcs, more violence, turning DoS into little more than your typical action movie: Entertaining in the moment, but nothing to stick with you once you leave the cinema.  

Nevertheless, Desolation of Smaug is not without its silver linings.  Ironically, the two main ones come directly from the two eponymous characters: the Hobbit himself, and the dragon Smaug (Cumberbatch again).  As the titular hobbit, Martin Freeman once again shines.  Although he is given less to work with this time around, Freeman perfectly captures Bilbo’s spirit of adventure, curiosity, and ingenuity, as well as his eccentricity, lending energy to every scene in which he is allowed to shine.  And Smaug.  Oh, Smaug.  The golden-voiced Benny Cumberbatch was born to voice the conniving dragon, who is beautifully conceived in CGI rendering.  Cumberbatch makes more of an impression without ever appearing onscreen than Evangaline Lilly does in her bloated role.  The scene between Bilbo and Smaug is pure magic (perhaps partially due to the fact that Martin and Benny play Watson and Sherlock Holmes on the BBC’s Sherlock), and a hint of what The Hobbit films as a whole could have been, much like the riddles in the dark scene in An Unexpected Journey.  Others turn in worthy performances as well.  Ian McKellan is unsurprisingly exemplary as Gandalf, while Ken Stott brings a rare emotional angle as Balin (Thorin’s right-hand man).  As for the new characters, Luke Evans is a nice addition as the Bard, a widower who strives to protect Laketown.  And naturally, the technical details of DoS (special effects, cinematography, costumes, etc.) are all lushly spectacular.  It’s also worth mentioning that the barrel scene (my favorite in the book) is delightful and one of the few tableaus that successfully captures the spirit of the source material.

Those details ever-so-slightly redeem what is otherwise a generic blockbuster.  Even Howard Shore’s score is run-of-the-mill; the Lord of the Rings score was full of emotive, repeated motifs that inspired and depressed the audiences at once, whereas The Hobbit score is notable only when reusing LoTR patterns.  It’s indicative of the film as a whole.  But where Desolation of Smaug fails greatest is in losing LoTR’s emotional depth.  Lord of the Rings was action-packed and violent, for sure.  Yet the battles, the special effects, the costumes — they were always a means to an end, not an end in and of themselves.  Every time I watch any of the three films, they reach down to my core and speak straight to me on a personal level.  After finishing, I feel like I’ve learned something.   And sure, both An Unexpected Journey and Desolation of Smaug encourage things like heroism, fellowship, and good triumphing over evil.  But such values never scratch below the surface.  Martin Freeman tries, oh he tries; unfortunately, there’s barely anything for him to work with.

In the end, it’s not the changes to J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel that make Desolation of Smaug a disappointment, but rather the disregard for its spirit.   Not even gorgeous CGI, a marvelous hobbit, or the most attractive-sounding dragon in the history of ever can save this ship.  With a double amount of violence and extraneous characters and not even a fraction of the heart contained in The Hobbit book or The Lord of the Rings movies, this second installment is, sadly, a desolation. 

A Postscript:  In The Two Towers, Samwise Gamgee (Sean Astin) tells a downtrodden and despairing Frodo (Elijah Wood), “It’s like in the old stories … full of darkness and danger … folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t.  Because they were holding onto something … There’s some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

If Peter Jackson keeps that in mind for next summer’s There and Back Again, the conclusion to this trilogy could be satisfying.  Let us hope.

My Rating: 6.5/10

Frozen: The New Old Disney

I grew up on a strict diet of Disney movies.  Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Fox and the Hound — I loved them all.  Unfortunately, I grew up as the period known as the Disney Renaissance (which basically covers The Little Mermaid in 1989 - Tarzan in 1999) ended, and the Mouse House turned to lesser fare such as Home on the Range and Atlantis.  Pixar emerged as the leading animation studios, leaving this avid Disney fan with nothing more than old VHS tapes.  However, in 2007, Disney released Enchanted, a partially animated and partially live action film that functioned as both a parody of and love letter to Disney’s classic features.  It breathed new life to Walt’s brand, kicking off another Renaissance of sorts.  This Renaissance continued with Princess and the Frog (2009), Tangled (2010), Winnie the Pooh (2011), and Wreck-It-Ralph (2012) — all critically acclaimed and well-recieved by audiences.  Which brings us to Frozen, Disney’s latest foray into the fairytale canon.

Telling a (very loosely adapted) version of the Snow Queen, Frozen concerns Elsa (Idina Menzel, Elphaba in Broadway’s Wicked), a queen who was born with the power to turn everything she touches to ice.  When Elsa goes crazy and accidentally enslaves her (strangely Norwegian) country of Arendelle in eternal winter, her younger sister Anna (Kristen Bell, Veronica Mars) must join forces with mountain man Kristoff (Jonathan Groff, Melchior in Broadway's Spring Awakening) and friendly snowman Olaf (Josh Gad, original Elder Cunningham in Broadway’s The Book of Mormon) to stop the winter and teach Elsa to love.  Oh, and there’s a prince too (Santino Fontana, currently playing Prince Charming in Broadway’s Cinderella). 

By all accounts, the trailer was unremarkable, looking more along the lines of a crass, hyperactive outing produced by Dreamworks.  Having now seen Frozen, I can thankfully say that it is no way indicative of the film as a whole.  In fact, my first thought about Frozen when seeing it in cinemas, actually, was how DISNEY it was.  From a mystical opening number, to madcap adventures ending inevitably in love, to even a royal ball, all the elements are there.  As gentle as it is intense, as romantic as it is laugh-out-loud hilarious, Frozen is so stylistically classic that it somehow forgets to be snarky or ‘hip’.  

And then there’s the fact that it’s a musical — not just a movie with one or two songs, but a full-blown,  Broadway-style musical.  This is mainly due to two factors, the first being the songwriting duo of husband-wife team Robert and Kristin Anderson-Lopez (The Book of Mormon, Avenue Q, Winnie the Pooh).  Each of the songs serves to move the story along, with "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" (especially the last verse) and "The First Time in Forever" as the standouts.  However, it is "Let It Go", Elsa’s emotional declaration to hide her powers no longer, that reaches the ranks of "Part of Your World" and "Beauty and the Beast".  It will surely join those and other such numbers as one of Disney’s best.  Of course, without a talented cast, even the most well-written of musicals falls flat. (*coughcarrieunderwoodsoundofmusiccough*)  Luckily, Frozen does not disappoint.  Idina Menzel, Jonathan Groff, Josh Gad, and Santino Fontana all lend their theatrical vocals to grand performances.  Even Kristen Bell, the only singer in the film with limited vocal experience, delivers a Disney princess-perfect voice.

And yet, for all of the Disney-ness encompassed in Frozen, it transcends most of the Mouse’s fare (especially as of late) by actually breaking away from the Disney mold!

First of all, there are two (count ‘em) princesses (Well actually one is a queen.  You say tomato, I say tomahto) — both of them protagonists.  Frozen isn’t as much a story of romance (we’ll get to that later) as it is a story of true love between two sisters.  None of the lonely-princess-looking-for-a-prince shtick.  Rather, Elsa and Anna’s relationship is full of an emotional depth surprising for even Disney.  We feel Elsa’s pain of having to separate herself from her sister without telling her why, Anna’s sadness at being shut out from Elsa without reason, and finally their joint joy when both save Arendelle and are able to be sisters without reservation.  They’re characters that many girls (my younger sister and I included) can relate to.

The other way in which Frozen sets itself apart is its romance.  Yes, there is love at first sight between Anna and Hans (the aforementioned prince).  They dance, sing a song, and then get engaged.  Average Disney stuff, right?  Wrong.  Because Frozen actually MOCKS this tried-and-true mold used in every Disney movie in the history of ever.  A scene in which Kristoff questions Anna about details of Hans’ life and personality (which she has next to no answers about) pokes fun at the very subject.  Naturally, Kristoff falls in love with Anna — but only after getting to know her through multiple exploits and mandatory song-and-dance numbers.

Granted, Frozen is no perfect movie.  The score itself is fairly unremarkable (especially when compared to the likes of Hans Zimmer’s Lion King score).  Some jokes fall into the preteen boy urine-humor category. The eleventh-hour 'twist' isn't set up as well as it could have been.  And I would have liked to see more of Elsa’s story.  But these are all minor complaints for a movie that encapsulates the spirit of Disney while trying something new.

Indeed, Frozen, like most Disney films, is a love story.  But it’s a celebration of more than just romantic love; the love between Elsa and Anna takes center stage.  Furthermore, Kristoff and Anna’s love is well-founded.  And then there’s Olaf, who depicts the love of friendship.  He delivers one of the film’s best lines (“Some people are worth melting for”) and represents how Elsa’s powers can be used for good.  All three facets truly set Frozen apart.  Now, I doubt Disney will ever make an animated film as good as Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, or Aladdin (John Lasseter, you may take that as a challenge).  Frozen, however, comes pretty darn close.  It simultaneously embraces the best of Disney animation and defies the worst.  Time will tell if it becomes a classic, but this Disney-lover left the theatre with anything but a frozen heart.  The humor, music, and emotional depth form a beautiful portrait of relationships.  And that is something worth celebrating.

My Rating: 9/10