Unexpected Journey Indeed

I have been a fan of Tolkien’s books for many years. When my son was younger, I read to him from The Hobbit each night at bedtime until we’d finished the book. From there we moved on to the “Lord of the Rings.” Before that, I wasn’t sure he even had much interest in books, but something about Tolkien’s works sparked his imagination, and he’s been an avid reader ever since.

One of the appeals of Tolkien’s works is the great care he takes in describing the settings and their history. He weaves a rich, multicolored fabric that is both enthralling and believable. Immersed in a Tolkien story, one does not doubt for a moment that eagles can be gigantic and noble and fierce or that wargs can talk and be sinister or that trolls come out at night and turn to stone when exposed to sunlight.

So it was that I anticipated Peter Jackson’s big-screen adaptation with impatience and enthusiasm. The idea of the sprawling adventure unfolding before my eyes was too much to resist. I couldn’t wait to share in the adventure with my son.

Unfortunately, this film falls into the same trap that snares far too many big-budget Hollywood projects in believing that nonstop action, CGI and over-the-top fight scenes always make for a winning combination. In this case, it just plain ruins everything.

From the overblown computer-generated effects to the preposterous story embellishments and obtrusive additions, Peter Jackson’s “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” robs the original story of the magic and charm that makes it one of the world’s most enduring works of literature.

Jackson makes no pretense about the embellishments. We are forewarned by the very title that this is not Tolkien’s work, and a fitting title it is because I was, in fact, taken on an entirely unexpected journey.

Jackson uses Gandalf to give voice to how he has taken liberties with the beloved prelude to “The Lord of the Rings.” After relating the tale of Bilbo’s great granduncle Bullroarer, Gandalf remarks that every good tale deserves some embellishment. But by this point I had already become unsettled as I sat waiting patiently for the real story to begin. Jackson chose to open the movie with scenes from his previous Tolkien epics. In fact, throughout this film reference after reference to--you know--those other movies crops up time and again, as if Jackson is either paying homage to his greatest success or trying to bludgeon the audience into remembering what comes after these adventures. Oh, and by the way, the many flashforwards seem to warn, something really bad is coming, really, really bad. As if anybody needed reminding at this point.

Jackson’s embellishments are many, and it is not my aim to catalog them all, but to point out how those embellishments are thievery, pure and simple, and his victims are those of us who loved the original tale as it was told by a real storyteller. Why, this man could rip the magic clean out of Hogwarts, I tell you, and not shed so much as a single tear.

Many Tolkien purists took exception with Jackson’s embellishments in the “Lord of the Rings” films. I forgave those transgressions because he still spun a rip-roaring adventure tale and gave some depth to the characters that was lacking in the books. It was a fair trade-off, I felt.

In “The Hobbit” it’s entirely different. The movie is a patchwork quilt of events and scenes and references in the book all sewn together into a raggedy quilt that doesn’t feel at all like the source material, quite often doesn’t make much sense and, more often than not, deteriorates into utter absurdity.

His depiction of Radaghast is nothing short of criminal. First off, Radaghast doesn’t even appear in The Hobbit. He’s mentioned in passing in a conversation between Gandalf and Beorn, who, you might have noticed, isn’t in this first film of the trilogy. But what does Jackson do to him? Turns him into an addle-brained, hare-sleigh mushing fool who carries a bird’s nest on his head and has hair matted with bird droppings. Bird droppings! He seems like a funny character, but, really, he’s just absurd--far too absurd for this story, if you ask me. I understand Jackson’s wanting to give some depth to the characters. One of the appeals of Radaghast is that he’s such a mysterious character. Tolkien manages to drop his name here and there throughout the books without really giving us a good look at the man except for Gandalf’s secondhand account of having met with him.  I just hate it that Jackson turned him into such a foolish figure, perhaps taking his interpretation from Saruman’s derisive assessment of the wizard as a bird lover. And, unfortunately, this is how everyone will forever think of Radaghast.

Everything in Jackson’s film has to be hyperbolic to the extreme. The storm giants Bilbo sees in the distance hurling rocks back and forth become the very mountains they’re attempting to navigate, and the whole party is nearly crushed in the fray. The whole scene is comically overdone Saturday morning fare and ridiculously contrived.

Worse by far is the charm Jackson wrenched from the scene in which Bilbo and dwarves fall onto the menus of hungry trolls. The book shows off a bit of Gandalf’s magic and cleverness, but the movie’s got to make it a big, action-packed spectacle. Never mind that Bilbo got nabbed trying to pilfer something from one of the troll’s pockets, and never mind that the dwarves all got popped into sacks coming to find out what the racket of the trolls’ bickering was all about. But that whole business of Gandalf smiting the side of a hill with his staff and cracking it in two so the sun could shine through and petrify the hungry monsters was infuriating to me. The scene in the book is full of so much humor, and the manner in which Gandalf saves the party from the stewpot is clever and funny at the same time. The movie ruined it, positively ruined it.

The dwarves are also problematic. The dwarves of The Hobbit are polite, bungling and cheerful. Thorin is a bit more stern, but they’re dwarves, and they’re comical. Jackson makes a big show of turning them into these big screen movie warriors who whirl about with swords and fancy attack moves and slice and dice everything and loose arrows with deadly accuracy. Yes, as we see in many parts of the books, dwarves are stout warriors, fierce and brave, but Jackson’s interpretation of them entirely robs the story of its character. Yes, again, I understand his wanting to give each and every dwarf some kind of unique identity and depth. He manages that pretty well, but I’m certain he could have done it without ruining the story.

Don’t get me started on the albino orc. Where that comes from I have no idea. And the animosity between the dwarves and elves? Not in the book and taken to the extreme in this version of the tale. Contrary to what Jackson would have us believe, Thorin treats Elrond with respect and reverence in the book. Every single detail from the book depicted in the movie is magnified and embellished to such a degree as to hardly resemble what actually happened. Someone ought to tell Jackson that a little subtlety can go a long way and that if a work has a certain charm about it because of its humor and lightheartedness, then sometimes it’s best to try to preserve those qualities instead of trying to turn the whole thing into something it shouldn’t be. I’d hoped for an honest, faithful rendition of the story, but Jackson’s version is a violation of everything that makes the book worth reading.

I never dreamed it could be possible, but I sat for most of the movie wishing for it to be over. Not even the fast pace and oooh, looky-looky special effects could save this film from being a tiresome affair. The only positive thing I can say is that Martin Freeman was pretty good as the young Bilbo. I like Martin Freeman. And Gollum was okay. The CGI has gotten really good. You’d almost never know he wasn’t really there.

All I can do now is let out a long sigh as I realize I haven’t the slightest desire to see the next installment. I’ll just go read a book instead.

John Carter: Don't buy the anti-hype

A cliche that has floated around for decades states, "Don't believe the hype." It's a simple idea that hyperbolic claims about something tend to lead to disappointment, that the underlying substance usually fails to live up to the assertions. Hype is much like fiction in that the tale, to paraphrase a well-known writer, tends to grow in the telling. The bigger the hype, the bigger the disappointment in the final product.

The same can be said of negative hype, or "anti-hype," if you will. The more vitriol you hear about something, the less terrible you realize it must actually be.

While I concede that some movies deserve much of the criticism they receive, it often seems that deliberate forces are at work to undermine others, in much the same way that politicians employ attack ads against their opponents.

And that brings me to the recent rental release John Carter, aka John Carter of Mars, aka A Princess of Mars (if we want to link it to its Edgar Rice Burroughs source material), directed by Andrew Stanton and starring Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins. This film suffered greatly from negative hype. Rumors about various problems swirled about as its box office release date approached. The title of the film was even changed before its debut, with various excuses provided. The budget was huge, there were production problems, and there was just no way Disney was going to recoup all of its investment. In short, John Carter was a dismal failure.

The truth is, John Carter is not such a bad movie after all. The saddest part is that it was indeed a failure at the box office and may be declared one of the biggest bombs of all time. Frankly, I have seen far worse films that performed far better at the box office.

That is not to say that John Carter is a great movie, but it does have enough in the way of story, special effects and action to make it pretty darned good. And at its core it does offer a fine look at the development of the titular character.

One reason stated for the title change from John Carter of Mars to simply John Carter was to show the progression of the character from a Virginia Civil War veteran who'd lost hope to a man of Mars who'd found a reason to live. In keeping with this idea, the final title screen displays the title as John Carter of Mars. I found this to be a fitting touch, and it truly felt like a triumphant moment.

Unlike many movies that hit the big screen—especially those in the SF and fantasy genre—John Carter is a patient film that is happy to let the character and story develop over time. Beyond the special effects, the action, the romance and even the humor, this above all else makes it worth watching. Most films seem to want to rush headlong from start to finish, story be damned. The more explosions, fights and gunshots, the better. Most people will say John Carter dragged at times. I say it's at those moments that the most critical character development occurs.

And it's the character of John Carter that makes the film. You find yourself liking him from the start. He's willful, cantankerous, resourceful, and he's apathetic, a man who has lost hope. The reason for his despair unfolds over time throughout the film, revealed to us as fragmentary flashbacks until a final, drawn-out scene during an epic battle reveals his pain and loss in bitter full. It is a powerful and moving image, one of the best I've seen in any film of this genre.

You cannot help wanting John Carter to find himself, to regain some measure of purpose and happiness in his life. When it finally happens, it is a satisfying moment. And that is the best way to describe how I felt at the end of this film. It was fulfilling and satisfying.

It's not a perfect movie. There are certainly plenty of awkward moments of unintentional humor. The scene in which Carter is trying to learn how to walk on a planet of lesser gravity than he's accustomed to frankly went on a bit too long. The low-gravity schtick was overdone in many parts of the film and grew tiresome. We did not need to be reminded of it time and time again.

The romance between Carter and Deja was, naturally, predictable and all-too obvious from the start, even when it was apparent that Deja was determined to exploit Carter's strength and abilities to save her planet. But that doesn't mean it still wasn't engaging or that the viewer didn't want it to happen. I contrast this strongly with the romance of Anakin and Padme in the Star Wars films. I was entirely indifferent to that romance, didn't want it to happen and really hoped it would just go away. Here, at least, there are moments you find yourself mentally telling Carter, "Just kiss her, dammit!"

The awkward, predictable or even slow moments are mere blips on the map in an adventure brimming with all of the classic formula elements of action, romance, danger, heroism and humor. It is, simply, an enjoyable, if not terribly remarkable, movie.

In addition to a fine story and some good special effects, John Carter also boasts a great cast, many of whom lend their voices to CGI figures, including Willem Dafoe as Tar Tharkis, Thomas Haden Church as Tal Hajus, Dominic West (McNulty!) as Sab Than and Mark Strong as Matai Shang, and, oh, yes, Bryan Cranston as the Civil War officer, Col. Powell.

No, I will not say John Carter is the best SF/fantasy film I've seen, but it stands up to many of the best and most of the recent releases in the genre. It's more than worth the rental or purchase price, and I may very well grab the Blu-ray myself. This is a clear-cut case of a movie most undeserving of the negative hype.