The Hobbit:
The Desolation of Smaug
(2013)
(SPOILERS) It’s
alarming how quickly Peter Jackson sabotaged all the goodwill he amassed in the
wake of The Lord of the Rings
trilogy. A guy who started out directing deliciously deranged homemade horror
movies ended up taking home the Oscar for a fantasy movie, of all genres. And
then he blew it. He went from a filmmaker whose naysayers were the exception to
one whose remaining cheerleaders are considered slightly maladjusted. The Desolation of Smaug recovers some of
the territory Jackson has lost over the last decade, but he may be too far-gone
to ever regain his crown.
Perhaps in years
to come The Lord of the Rings trilogy
will be seen as an aberration in his filmography. There’s a cartoonishness to the
gleeful, twisted anarchy on display in his earlierr work that may be more
attuned to the less verimilitudinous aspects of King Kong and The Hobbits.
The exceptions are his female-centric character dramas, Heavenly Creatures and The
Lovely Bones. The former remains one of his best pictures. The latter,
while not quite the disaster some claim, is guilty of the over-produced
indulgence found when no one is prepared to say “No” to a talent. If the
Jackson of the ‘90s had access to the full WETA box of CGI tricks would the
uproarious physicality of those pictures have been displaced, and with it one
of the keys to their appeal? It’s hard to tell. His transition movie, The Frighteners, is a largely successful
blend of the director’s crazed energy and a more glossy Hollywood finish. By
the time of The Return of the King,
Jackson is indulging in uncomfortably obvious CGI action with virtual doubles
(often involving Legolas, so it’s clearly an affliction for which there is no
remedy), but in general the trilogy bears the weight of world-building
physicality successfully; the exceptions are just that.
So what
happened? King Kong, his passion
project, was finally made but it resolutely underwhelmed. It had the bloated
running time of his Middle Earth ventures, but with no good reason. His casting
was off; a strange assembly of actors who never quite gelled. And most
significantly, the earlier warning-signs of off-the-leash CGI were now manifested
in dumb dinosaur stampedes and general whackiness. He managed to continually
undercut himself; with no limitations, he lost his bearings as to the kind of
picture he was making. So the tragedy never takes hold the way it should, and
the forays into comedy are ill advised.
He also
seems unaware that slapstick humour works because
it is physical; make it virtual and you’re lost (I’ll recant this in a few
paragraphs time, but it’s most likely an exception that proves the rule).
Jackson’s probably the guy who thought the sequence in Attack of the Clones where CGI C3PO’s head was welded to another CGI
droid’s body amid a CGI landscape was hilarious.
Certainly, it appears that in the period since LOTR he has picked up many of George Lucas’ Star Wars prequels bad habits. Just in time for his trilogy of prequels. Perhaps it’s simply the difference
between a 40-year-old filmmaker and a 50-year-old filmmaker. Jackson’s
willingness to go the extra mile has gone; it’s just a shame it happened a
decade earlier (in terms of comparative ages) than his buddy Steven Spielberg
(at least he was in 60s when he drowned
Indiana Jones in a quagmire of CGI).
Another
warning sign with Jackson is the type of material he currently venerates. He’s
a big fan of Steven Moffat’s Sherlock
and Doctor Who (he was a Who aficionado anyway; above and beyond
one might suggest, since he went to the unconscionable extreme of casting
Sylvester McCoy). Moffat, of course, contributed to the first in a projected
series of CGI Tintins for Spielberg
and Jackson. Moffat’ first TV successes
(well, it’s a relative term) were in the comedy arena, and as a consequence his
dramas are drenched in self-conscious show-off dialogue and waving at the audience.
He’s a writer with a talent for an imaginative premise, but who appears uncomfortable
and ill-equipped if he’s not undermining it with tired and repetitive gags
every couple of minutes (most of which are interchangeable across the two
shows). Unfortunately it means the same incessant one-voice self-reflexivity is
found across all his characters. Not an isolated complaint by any means (Joss
Whedon stands guilty), but it lessens the damage if the post-modern asides are
actually funny. Maybe they were, the first time.
Moffat has
also of late become enchanted by his own dense yet internally illogical Who continuity. It’s an indication of
how the geeks now rule the media world that an area once avoided by the
mainstream at all costs has now become the tail that wags the dog. Lucas’ Star Wars prequels were partly sunk by
this predilection (everyone relates to everyone!) Jackson’s new trilogy takes such
pains to make The Hobbit a direct
lead-in to LOTR that it suffers as a
film(s) in its own right. The director also evidences a Moffat-esque lack of
restraint in respecting someone else’s property; he must make it “his own” even
if that stamps all over the original tone. Jackson can’t trust himself to
remain true to his environment. In LOTR
“No one tosses a dwarf” was goofy
exception (which he couldn’t resist reprising due to audience approval). The Hobbits are littered with cheap
gags, toilet and sexual humour. I wouldn’t suggest that some of these aren’t
funny, but there’s a cumulative effect of diluting the distinctiveness of Middle
Earth; it debases Tolkien and renders the series increasingly indistinguishable
from the competition.
The result
of Jackson becoming a “That’ll do” filmmaker is that he’s started making only
“okay” movies. I probably enjoyed An Unexpected Journey more than many, but I still found it severely wanting
when stood alongside its predecessors. Most of the criticisms were valid; the
indulgent lack of focus; the willingness to stretch a small story to “epic”
breaking point. Most painful was the lapse into full-blown CGI fakery. It felt
like a punch in the gut to witness the computer game gravity-defying action
sequences in the goblin caves. It was almost as if the director was actively mocking
anyone who actually wished once again to be captivated by the tangibility of
this fantasy world. It seems like such an anti-intuitive move, one can only
assume that Jackson, alone in his ivory tower, has lost the plot as Lucas did
before him. That, and the whole 48 frames per second debacle, saw him swiftly
plunge from fan darling to enemy number one.
So the
knives were out for The Desolation of
Smaug. I’d read as many reviews suggesting Jackson had addressed his
earlier missteps as I did ones that accepted TDOS as a marginal improvement but still nothing to write home
about. So perhaps my appreciation results from a case of continued low
expectations (as with AUJ). Perhaps
seeing this one in 3D (but not 48fps)
made all the difference in immersive terms (a strike against the overall quality
of storytelling, if true). But I’m pleased to say I really enjoyed TDOS. It may be as overworked as An Unexpected Journey but it is weighed
down by none of its drag. It’s still blighted by the CGI curse of AUJ, but less criminally so. Most
significantly, it has the benefit of a meaty plot to dig into and makes the
most of each successive stage in the ongoing quest.
At least we
know now that Jackson doesn’t know when to stop with the CGI, as if he's trying
to match George Lucas for unnecessary CGI characters. Just because you can make
all your Orcs CGI doesn't mean you should. Of course, a pertinent concern is
what Orcs are doing in The Hobbit at
all. If fidelity to the source material is your primary concern, however,
you’ll have given up on these films long before Jackson decided to tackle
Bilbo’s first adventure.
It is worth
stressing that there’s a difference between holding off from vehemently
opposing changes and recognising there are limits to how much a text should be
bent out of shape or be grafted with extraneous incidents and details. While TDoS is shorn of the bloat of AUJ, it suffers at times from Jackson’s
Lucasisations. Shouldn’t the permeating presence of Gandalf be enough to link
trilogies? Do we really need the return of "young" Legolas?
Especially since he never looks less than an uneasily rejuvenated waxwork.
Since Jackson’s unable to disguise that Bloom is a fair bit beefier than he was
before, it might have been better (if he really had to bring him back; it isn’t as if Legolas was the greatest
character evah) to leave him be
rather than substitute one distraction (he looks older) for another (he looks
weird). The vertically labyrinthine realm of the Wood-elves is superbly
realised, and Lee Pace (has he changed his agent? Suddenly he’s everywhere) is
marvellously unswervable as the King of the Wood-elves. There’s no need for the
intrusion of Bloom’s impassive (read: wooden) performance.
This
passage of the film introduces another of Jackson’s major additions; Tauriel.
It’s understandable that he felt the need to invent a lady Elf to up the quotient
of female characters, much as he expanded Liv Tyler’s role in the originals.
And credit to Evangelline Lilly, she is
very good (much more confident in her performance than Bloom, and a much
stronger presence than Tyler ever was). But Jackson inevitably shoots himself
in the foot. He attempts to lend a semblance of balance to the male-centric
proceedings, but he lazily defines his female character by not one but two love
interests (his writing partners Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens must take equal blame)!
Of course, Tauriel is a kick-ass warrior too (because this is post-Buffy) and of course she is headstrong
and rebellious too (because this is post-Buffy).
Most tenuous is her affection for Kili
(pretty boy dwarf Aidan Turner), leading to randy sex talk somewhere between
Benny Hill and Steven Moffat. An exchange
between them revolves around whether Kili has anything of value down his
trousers. I’m sure Tolkien would have heartily approved.
These elves
are also the main offenders for whizzing around like they're in a computer game;
yes, we get it, they’re super ninja types. Don’t you think it would be more
effective if there were actually a sense of peril
though, Peter? It comes a great surprise in the closing stages, when Legolas is
actually seen hurting a bit in his fight with Bolg (Lawrence Makoare). As much
as a plastic-faced Elf can express any emotion, that is. There should have been
more of this sort of thing.
The escape from the Wood-elves barrel sequence
starts out well; it’s involving, dramatic and well staged. It’s only when
Legolas shows up and begins acrobatically shooting orcs while astride two
barrels rushing down river that you remember this is a director who’d rather
show off than engage the audience. Once
he starts, he just can’t stop, and the tail-end of the sequence wouldn’t look
out of place in the goblin kingdom in AUJ;
Bombur (Stephen Hunter) flies about the air taking down Orcs left right and
centre before landing on his feet, the barrel now adorning body armour. It’s an
incredibly silly bit of business that takes you out of engagement with the
drama, but I have to admit to being carried along with the laughter of the rest
of the audience (so there’s my admission; CGI can make LOLs).
If the
attempts to link everything to LOTR didn't
generally mar my enjoyment, they do
have the unfortunate side effect of highlighting that this isn’t a life or
death drama on the same scale. The fate of Middle Earth isn’t at stake, and torrents
of (virtual) Orcs and glimpses of Saruman’s eye won’t change that. Ian McKellen
was reportedly less than impressed at the quantity of green screen required for
this trilogy, a turnaround from LOTR
where he actually got to act with real actors, so he’s clearly with Joe Public
there (does Jackson listen to critics, or does he Lucas-like keep his fingers
in his ears?) It’s ironic then that Gandalf's quest feels like it’s more about giving
McKellen something to do than anything really essential. All this detective
work is repetitive (preemptive?) of what will come in LOTR. It’s unnecessary but admittedly well executed.
We also re-encounter
Sylvester McCoy covered in bird shit. This time out McCoy is called on to do
some proper acting, so Radagast the Brown is a less successful screen presence
(I was surprised as anyone that McCoy was okay in AUJ). There’s also the problem that it’s impossible to see McCoy and
McKellen sharing a scene and not think of the latter’s brutal takedown of the
former in The Five(ish) Doctors.
Leading in
to the encounter with the Wood-elves, the Mirkwood spiders sequence is suitably
tense and features some enjoyably trippy visuals. Speaking of which, Jackson
must be on something or really stoked
with 3D as Gandalf’s encounter with Sauron verges momentarily on 2001’s stargate sequence
(unsurprisingly, the director is fond of the occasional in-your-face use of the
technology; while I love the buzzing bees, I was less enamoured of the pointy
objects flying at me).
Later, Lake-town
has a nice physicality to it and feels consequently much closer to the world of
the first half of The Fellowship of the
Ring. The new additions to the cast here are dependable if unremarkable;
Luke Evans supplies a variation on the brooding hero (pre-Aragorn with a
troubled history; see also Thorin for another take on this) while Stephen Fry
plays Stephen Fry as the Master of Lake-town. His right-hand man, Alfrid (Ryan
Gage) is a tepid version of Brad Douriff’s twisted man behind the throne in The Two Towers.
The luxury
of an increased running time hasn’t afforded increased identification with the numerous
dwarves. Richard Armitage’s Thorin continues to receive the lion’s share of the
attention, and his is by far the most rounded character of this new trilogy
(much more so than Bilbo). Conflicted by the impulses of honour and greed,
quick-tempered and prickly, he makes for an effective anti-hero throughout. Ken
Stott’s considered Balin, Bilbo’s chief advocate, is second most in screen
presence, but aside from belligerent bald Bifur (Graham McTavish), Armitage,
and a barely present James Nesbitt, the rest merge into one.
Martin
Freeman continues to deliver a deceptively at-ease performance as Bilbo. His tone
and manner isn’t so different to any number of previous roles; it’s only when
the pull of the One Ring comes into play that he broadcasts how good he is.
So far I
haven’t mentioned the film’s major selling point, the confrontation with Smaug.
It’s a resounding success, and any early concerns over whether or not the dragon
should be seen to speak (there was doubt it could be pulled off convincingly)
prove groundless. Cumberbatch’s vocals (and motion capture movements) lend the
beast a playful malevolence, and Jackson builds the scene with an expertise that
gives way to excess elsewhere. Bilbo’s realisation that he is staring at a huge
closed eyelid is a wonderful moment, and his tumbling, falling, running
attempts to escape the twisting, turning, pursuing dragon down the vast
mountain of gold is as impressive as anything the director has staged in his
career. True, I didn’t Smaugasm over Cumberbatch they way we all did at Andy
Serkis’ Gollum. But it also says something that this movie suffers not-at-all from
being the first Middle Earth movie without even a glimpse of the one-time owner
of “Precious”.
The
heftiest addition to this encounter is the dwarves’ attempt to bury Smaug
beneath a torrent of molten gold. The frenetic reactivation of the mine by the
company as Smaug gives chase, followed by yet more of Jackson’s keynote
gravity-defying antics, should really have been a huge turn off. But I was engaged
throughout, even when Thorin stands atop Smaug’s snout. Perhaps it’s because,
on this occasion, Jackson never loses sight of his narrative goal amid the
excess (no doubt he was inspired by Terminator
2 and Alien 3); I wouldn’t compliment him on such intemperance, but
he didn’t lose me this time (and again, I may redress this view when I revisit
the film in the harsh light of 2D rather than 3D).
Jackson
leaves us in a place where it isn’t difficult to guess what will happen next,
even without having read the novel. I’m dubious whether he can make There and Back Again sufficiently
engaging, since it looks as if it will consist of one long protracted battle. The Return of the King just about got
away with such extensive sequences of warfare because we were invested in the
characters; Jackson will have his work cut out for him to achieve the same this
time. It’s perhaps inevitable that I’ve given more attention to what doesn’t
work than what does, since Jackson has adopted certain abrasive filmmaking
techniques since LOTR, but for the
majority of its running time The
Desolation of Smaug more than satisfies. At least one part of this trilogy
has proved fit to stand in the company of The
Lord of the Rings.
****