What do
you do when you finally get to see The
Hobbit and have so very much to say about it but don’t have a personal
blog? Clearly, you seek out another Tolkien geek with an amazingly awesome blog
and you write a guest post for her! But this isn’t a review of Jackson and
Co.’s film, per se; though I’ll certainly be expressing my spoiler-free
opinions on the movie, including, yes, the controversial high frame rate in
which the trilogy was shot and is being exhibited in a limited number of
theatres. This blog is everything that went through my head as I left that
theatre in “beautiful downtown Burbank” on Tuesday night. And, for this
opportunity to unload the terrible burden on the association areas of my
cortex, I couldn’t thank Amy nearly enough.
And so it begins…
Just as
it’s been for SO many people throughout the 75 years since its original
publication, The Hobbit is a very
personal book for me. When I was five years old, growing up in a small town in
North Carolina, I was outside playing with the neighborhood children when
they—as backwoods kids tend to do—decided to poke a nest of wasps (the actual
Apocrita; not to be confused with yuppies) with a stick. Moments later, with an
ice pack over my right eye and bawling, I was being cradled within my mother’s
arms, seeking comfort after a stinger had found its way into the inner corner
of my eye. I was thoroughly convinced that I was heading briskly toward death.
Or, at the very least, blindness. Instead, only moments later, my eyes were
opened then and for the rest of my life. Unless, of course, I actually go blind
one day. So in the case of legitimate blindness, let’s just say this statement
is strictly metaphorical.
“Son,”
began my father, as he sat me down on the sofa. “Something just came on TV that
I think you’re going to want to see.” And there it was in every bit of its Rankin/Bass
glory. In a television screen in my family room there lived…a
hobbit.
To say
the animated movie is an abridged version of Mr. Bilbo Baggins’ journey to,
well, there and back again would be a bit of an understatement. Much
is left out from the already short novel, but the film did everything it was
meant to do. It entertained me. It thrilled me. It made me laugh, gasp and, you
betcha, cry. It even inspired me to sing “Down,
Down to Goblin Town” often as I marched toward my bedroom. And when my
father explained to me that it was based on an even better book, the Rankin/Bass
movie just made me want to learn to read at whatever level necessary to read The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Since the
third grade, I’ve read The Hobbit and
its sequel once a year and, yes, I have just as much glee today as when I first
read them in 1985. In fact, no matter my
love and appreciation of Sir Ian McKellen’s portrayal of Gandalf the Grey (and
later, the White [and later, the Grey…again]), the Rankin/Bass film was so
influential to me that, to this day, I can’t read either novel without hearing
the thunderous, yet paternal voice of John Huston in my head.
It was
my personal dream to be the man who brought The
Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings
to the big screen, though “they” said it could never be adequately done. So
when I heard the news that the latter was in preproduction at New Line Cinema,
I was absolutely crushed. When I heard a split-second later that it was to be
co-written and directed by Peter Jackson, I was absolutely elated. I’d been
introduced to Jackson’s work while a student at Appalachian State University, a
small town many would argue—at least at the time—wasn’t so unlike something you’d
read about the Shire itself. Everyone knew one another. Tales of yesteryear
still spread throughout the community. And there were plenty of adventures to
be had if you only dared to take that first step outside your dorm room and
into the Blue Ridge Mountains. While there, I happened upon a film called Heavenly Creatures, a true story about
two young Kiwi girls responsible for the death of one of their mothers. The
story was brilliantly executed, using a fantastic blend of live-action and
computer-generated effects. None of it was too flashy and all of it was
imperative to put you into the mindset of these two very desperate girls.
Later, I discovered that the director—one Peter Jackson—had also been
responsible for two other dark comedy/horror films I’d seen and loved called Dead Alive (overseas, it was known as Brain Dead) and The Frighteners. I was hooked and needed to see as much as possible
from this director. My best friend and I found very hard-to-get VHS copies of
his even earlier works, Bad Taste and
Meet the Feebles, and loved them for
very different reasons. And with that, it was settled. If Peter Jackson could
create fare that ranged so dramatically in genre and tone, but entertained so
equally, he would become my new favorite director. So hearing that these movies
were being made without my involvement, but by my favorite director was,
needless to say, incredibly bittersweet.
That is, until I saw my first bit
of footage from Fellowship of the Ring. From then on out, I had nothing
but confidence, admiration and joy that my favorite director was helming this
epic. I’d have never been able to accomplish the feat he and his team would.
The
immediate follow-up question after the tremendous success of The Return of the King was whether he’d
move onto The Hobbit next. And that
question was repeatedly met with a negative response. And I never blamed Peter
for it. The tone of The Hobbit is considerably different. It’s basically a story
for kids, while The Lord of the Rings
is decidedly not. The trolls—named Bert, Tom and Bill Huggins, for god sakes!—,
for instance, are basically comic relief and barely pose any kind of real
threat. This is fine, because it’s only the first of many tests of character,
strength and faith that get increasingly more difficult as The Hobbit progresses. But these aren’t characters you’d have ever
found in The Lord of the Rings. After
all, the first menace the four hobbits face in Fellowship of the Ring is a creepy-as-hell Ring Wraith. Much, much different tone. Making The Hobbit wasn’t something Jackson
wanted to do. I respect that. But he was basically forced into the director’s
chair, once Guillermo del Toro had to step down.
Jackson needed something to get him excited
about returning to Middle Earth and, ultimately, competing with his own
masterpiece. Ironically, technology was the answer to this problem. A theme
woven thoroughly throughout Tolkien’s Lord
of the Rings is anti-industry or, more to the point; the effects industry
has on the natural world around us. But in this era of filmmaking, it’s that
very technological revolution that seemingly brought Jackson’s excitement for
Middle Earth back. The piece of technology in question was the RED camera and
its ability to synch multiple cameras running at the controversial high frame
rate of 48 frames per second.
When
film was introduced to audiences, it was done so with hand-cranked projectors that relied on the projectionist to run the
film at a reasonably steady speed. The films those projectionists were cranking
were shot using a camera that was also
hand-cranked by a camera operator, so viewing of these films were rarely
perfectly simpatico between the director’s vision, the cameraman’s arm and the
projectionist’s arm. But as time moved forward and automation came into play,
the standard frame rate for film—in order to make movement look as lifelike as
possible—became 24 frames per second. With the advent of television over time,
broadcasts began the standard of video mastering, which runs at 30 frames per
second, hence one of the distinct visual differences between film and
television. But film has always remained loyal to a 24 frame per second
standard, due in large part, to the audience’s comfort level with it. After
all, very few—if any—of us remember anything less and certainly have seen very
little of anything more.
But, like the titular hero of The Hobbit, Peter Jackson sought
adventure. He
knew there was something out there beyond the confines of the Shire (24 fps)
and seems to have found Rivendell (48 fps). The controversy over the higher
frame rate comes with our perception of movement. The very familiar film “blur”
with which we’ve grown accustomed and even comfortable is nearly non-existent
in this new presentation, making many things easier on the eyes, especially in
3D. That easier feeling, quite frankly, is oddly uncomfortable for many. It’s
very reminiscent of old BBC television or live TV specials where there’s
something just a little bit faster or more fluid than a standard movie. Add in the 3D effect and, well, now you’re watching live human beings
performing a stage play on a large film screen. You notice fewer cuts in
each scene and you begin to have the sneaking suspicion that you’re literally
watching 13 dwarves, a hobbit and their great wizard running the scene right
there in front of you live. It’s awe-inspiring and, yet, for some, very worthy
of downright loathing. It does change the way you see a movie and some have
argued that it makes everything look fake. But, personally, I don’t think the
frame rate really has much—if anything—to do with that.
To shoot effective 3D, you
obviously need depth.
To see that depth, you obviously need to light it thoroughly. And therein lies
the problem. The Lord of the Rings is
quite dark and moody. Praised for its realistic effects, miniature work and
even computer-generated imagery (CGI), The
Lord of the Rings relied and benefited greatly on the use of light and
shadow. Light a miniature the right way and no matter how small it is, it’ll
look like it towers miles above your head. If you light it improperly, it’ll
look like something made by a 7-year old with an endless supply of popsicle
sticks, Elmer’s glue and an unsteady hand. Clearly, in today’s technological
age, it’s not a difficult feat to shoot something in high levels of light only
to make it look considerably darker by adding shadows and contrast via
computer. But these scenes rarely look genuine, often replacing black with
shades of blue and giving audiences far too many details that should otherwise
be hidden by shadow. Unfortunately, most
scenes within Jackson’s adaptation of The
Hobbit are too well lit, giving everything an artificial quality not seen
in The Lord of the Rings. The
opening attack on Erebor, for instance, looks like we’re watching live humans
super imposed into a set the size of Mattel’s Castle Grayskull. It doesn’t
instill a great deal of confidence for the rest of the film, particularly when
you’re also trying to process this new thing called “high frame rate.” And,
sadly, I feel like it’s this simultaneous processing of the HFR that’s taking
the brunt of the blame when I legitimately feel it has more to do with the
production of the 3D.
If
there’s one thing, besides the (sometimes uncomfortable) feeling of having a
live performance right in front of you, that absolutely appears to work in HFR
3D, it’s CGI. Don’t get me started on how much I despise the use of CGI in most
occasions, but as Jackson proved with Gollum/Smeagol in The Lord of the Rings and later with King Kong, CGI can be done well and reasonably convincingly. I
wasn’t expecting pleasant things, when I thought about the fact that you’d have
to double up the amount of CGI rendering to accommodate the additional 24
frames per second and the thought of seeing these things in 3D…ugh. I wasn’t expecting what I got. And what I got was very lifelike digital creations. The “Riddles in the Dark”
scene between Bilbo and Gollum is all I need to point to. Granted, it was the
very first scene shot on The Hobbit,
so they’ve had more time with it, but Gollum is so lifelike, I swear I could’ve
lassoed him with a piece of Elven rope and taken him home with me. The movement
is so smooth and the weight and dimension of the character are so convincing,
it literally solves the problem of computer-generated images not appearing to
exist within the same frame as their live counterparts. Sure, there are scenes
with CGI creations that look, quite frankly, video gamey, but when it matters—and Peter Jackson and his team at
Weta seem to know exactly when it matters—the CGI is given a lifelike quality
that I’ve never seen on film before. And I have
to believe this is chalked up to the audience seeing it in the combination
of 48 frames per second and 3D.
I’m
eager to see the film in 24 fps to see if my next hypothesis holds true, but
the HFR 3D does seem to have an effect on performances. Once again, Sir Ian McKellen plays Gandalf the Grey quite magnificently
and Martin Freeman is a natural Bilbo Baggins. However, as I’ve said, when
watching the HFR 3D, I got the feeling that I was watching a live show in front
of me. It was like watching a stage play and, as anyone who’s seen their fair
share of stage plays can tell you, there’s a distinct difference in the feel of
performances. There are edits in The Hobbit, mind you, but I couldn’t
help but feel like I was simply watching one single take from many angles and
the performances felt more like stage acting than film acting. And this is
something I attribute to the feeling the HFR 3D gave me. Only by seeing the
film in a standard format will I know for sure, but it’s certainly something to
consider.
Here’s
my biggest lament. HFR 3D could
absolutely be the future of cinema…but it won’t be. I’m eager to see more
of it. It’s distracting—disturbing, even—when you see it for the first time.
But I firmly believe, like anything to which we’re exposed over and over, it’s
something I could very easily get used to. By the end, I loved the intimacy it
gave me with the film. I only wish we could experiment with it for a while to
figure out exactly how to light a scene and still make everything feel as
intimate as The Hobbit does. I’d also like to see a film that doesn’t
rely so heavily on visual effects play with HFR 3D. A straightforward
action movie could really go places with this new technology. And, I dare say,
a romantic comedy could even benefit. Imagine one of those cheesy scenes
between boy and girl or boy and boy or girl and girl on an ice rink with one
slipping and sliding all over the place as we track along with them… In 48
frames per second and in 3D, we’d literally feel like we were a third wheel
watching this meet cute. And I kinda wanna see that. Sadly, though, the
backlash that Peter Jackson seems to be getting from audiences, critics and
theatre owners is going to quash this format for studios too quickly to really
get a sense of what we can do with it. But, personally, if I can sit for two
hours and watch a Quentin Tarantino movie made to look like the celluloid was
run through battery acid a few times, I can just as easily sit through a Peter
Jackson film that looks like an intimate personal performance right in front of
my face. It’s a visual style choice like
any other. And it’s one of which I’d
like to see a lot more.
Ultimately,
if you’re a fan of Tolkien, you’re going to be a fan of this movie. Like with Lord of the Rings, Jackson’s taken a
liberty or two, but for the most part, they’re liberties with which I’m
comfortable because they appear to make sense within the narrative. There are a
few things inserted that fans only of The
Hobbit novel won’t recognize, but fans of the extended appendices of The Lord of the Rings or The Silmarillion will certainly welcome.
For some, it drags in places, though I never felt the time pass. Regardless, the last hour is truly something to behold.
And I can’t wait to see where it goes from here. To be honest, just as I’ve
always felt with The Hobbit, I’m very
ready to go there…but I’m not so sure I’m ever going to want to come back
again.