I know. There are a hundred other things I should be doing rather than writing here – and if I’m going to write here I have about sixty book reviews I ought to write. But I’m thoroughly disgusted.
I’ve expressed my opinion of the – God help us – “Hobbit” trilogy before. The giant jackrabbit, Thranduil’s moose, hot dwarves, etc. Legolas. Potty humor. (A review of the current middle movie made the latter literal: some female in (I think) Dale exclaims something like “why are there dwarves coming out of the toilets?” Which makes no sense, in any way I want to know about.) Even before I knew about most of the other problems, the simple fact that there were going to be three movies was ludicrous. I swore then I wouldn’t pay to see any of the three (three!) movies in the theatre; when I found out the rest I swore I would never pay a penny for any version or form of them, or anything to do with them.
I just read an article that makes me wish I could take it a step further. Like a lawsuit. Or a hired ninja assassin. I could spit nails. Jackson – and Boyens and company – have to either be drunk with power, or perhaps the more charitable viewpoint is the post’s title: they’ve lost their minds.
The article is here. I have to quote the beginning:
J.R.R. Tolkein never wrote about a butt-kicking lady elf in his epic 1937 fantasy novel. He sure as heck didn’t write about elves — and dwarves for that matter — in love.
But that didn’t stop Peter Jackson from making up brand new “Hobbit” character Tauriel, played by Evangeline Lilly, out of whole cloth.
Though the misspelling of Tolkien takes a little of the shine off that bit of snark, I still approve completely. Then the piece goes on to talk about how, though Lilly made the producers promise not to put her into a love triangle … they did anyway.
One corner of the triangle: Legolas.
Who shouldn’t be in the movies any more than some fabricated she-elf, by the way.
The last corner of the triangle?
One of the dwarves.
One of the hot dwarves, of course – Kili.
I don’t even know which aspect of this nauseates me the most. There are so many.
And what’s saddest of all is that I wanted Martin Freeman to play Bilbo, for years. I’m pleased with some of the casting – though the batting average isn’t nearly as good as in LotR. I’d love to be able to do as plenty of folks plan to do one day: 18+ hour marathon of all six movies. (Probably more like 22 or so, after the extended editions come out.) This is supposed to be Tolkien. This is supposed to be for the fans, by a fan (or so he claims). I’m not so much a purist as I sound like; I’m perfectly fine with some of ways the material was manipulated in the original trilogy. (Some.) Fellowship of the Ring was almost perfect, for the most part. I could get behind the whole “we’re adding all the White Council stuff because it’s essential to telling the whole story (not to make money off three movies!)” … if it were done well. But because of what no one will ever convince me isn’t unbridled greed (or insanity), I will never, ever be able to watch these three movies. I’m not willing to do it to myself. I love The Hobbit – that which was written by J.R.R. Tolkien. I know I wouldn’t be able to enjoy anything good in them because I already know about so much that is awful, and actually watching it would have to be so much more terrible.
And all I’ve heard from people I trust about the first movie is that there’s a lot of filler, and it was surprisingly dull.
In fact, if anyone ever needs to torture me (you know, for all my valuable secrets), I hope it doesn’t occur to them to make me watch these things. “Now I’ll put on The Desolation of Smaug!” “No! NO! I’ll tell you anything you want to know!”
Oh well. Maybe someday before I die it’ll be remade into something I can watch.