The Hobbit and a Desolation of Tension

 

You know, I think I'll start this review with an admission that will probably surprise no one: I love long movies. Think about it, movies today are expensive, and if you forgot to smuggle in drinks and snacks (or maybe you don't have anyone carrying a large bag or cargo pants), the whole movie-going experience can set you back quite a ways. And this is why I love long movies. Long movies make the expense worth it by giving you enough entertainment to sustain the kind of money spent. Of course, usually, longer movies tend to be better, at least in my eyes. They spend more time developing characters and worlds, thus making the whole experience more fulfilling, more enriching.

Of course, as some have pointed out to me in the past, long movies are an expense in time as well. And, finally, after three Lord of the Rings movies and one Hobbit, I believe Peter Jackson has tested my limits, which is a weird thing to write since I'm anxiously waiting for the final book in Robert Jordan's fourteen-book series to come out in paperback.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug has enough entertainment and spectacle in it that it's a fun outing, but it lacks something I so enjoyed about the first Hobbit and Lord of the Rings: purpose. Yes, I know, the purpose is the get to the Lonely Mountain and remove the fiery Smaug from the dwarf kingdom, but Desolation is so concerned with throwing the characters from one adventure to the next, that the characters have little time to discuss, well, much of anything.

Desolation starts with a rather unnecessary flashback. Gandalf (Ian McKellen) meets Thorin (Richard Armitage) in a familiar tavern fans of the first trilogy should recognize. Really, all we get from this scene is something which we could have inferred from previous events and character developments. We know Gandalf has a funny way of turning up when needed, a knack for pushing people to do things they would not have do otherwise, so this scene is pointless. As a point of comparison, take a look at the scene with Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond, and Saurman in which they debate Thorin's purpose. It's a wonderful scene that is both informative and fun considering Gandalf is only there as distraction. The first scene of Desolation does not have any of that going for it.

From there, we flash forward to the merry gang of dwarves, one wizard, and Bilbo. They are still running from the pursuing orc gang and therefore hide in the home of Beorn (Mikael Persbrandt), who may or may not be a friend. He hates dwarves, see. But really, that doesn't matter because just a couple of scenes later and we're off again.

Next is one of three extraordinary set pieces. I'll only say that if you're scared of spiders, be prepared to spend the scene covering eyes and squirming in your seat. I know I was. But even this scene seemed to be over far too soon because just a couple of minutes later the dwarves are saved by Bilbo (Martin Freeman) and captured by the woodland elves, Legolas (Orlando Bloom... in case you didn't know) among them.

I'll stop there with the plot summary because from that moment on it's just more of the same, one adventure after another. Now, I'm not upset about this. The book pretty much does the same thing, but the book at least had the lyricism of Tolkien's writing to break it up. At least there was a steady build up of tension. This film lacks that kind of build up.

You may say that's because it's the middle chapter in a longer story. You'd be right. But even Two Towers had a steady build up, a growing momentum that concluded with two fantastic battles (three if you count Frodo's near capture at the end of that film, still one of my favorite visual images from the original trilogy). Even Empire Strikes Back built up to that famous final confrontation. Desolation is one confrontation after another, and while they are staged wonderfully, there's no build up, no tension.

In fact, the only amount of serious build up is near the end of the film, right before Bilbo descends into the mountain to face the dragon. That was the only point in the film when I had time to feel unease about the approaching moment. And boy does Jackson deliver.

Smaug (voiced with the delicious baritones of Benedict Cumberbatch) is the most impressive aspect of the film. For once the characters are allowed to have a conversation where the outcome could mean life or death. In addition, this was the only moment when I thought the use of a higher frame rate necessary. In 3D and HFR Smaug and that gold-horde of his come alive in a way I never thought possible.

The other scene I thought was quite memorable is the dwarves' escape from the woodland elves. Now that was a piece of filmic brilliance, where the absurdity of the situation threatens to be too much but it nevertheless delivers as a piece of visual storytelling. For some, I can imagine that it may go on for too long, but I thought it was quite brilliant. I was smiling during the whole sequence.

The other addition I thought was surprisingly effective is the potential romance between an elf of Jackson's own invention, Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), and one of the younger dwarves, Kili (Aidan Turner). The chemistry between the two characters works, even if their storyline borders on the melodramatic in this film. I actually wished Legolas would disappear to allow the pairing a little more space to breathe. After all, his big romance is still to come in the Lord of the Rings trilogy (*wink, wink).

All in all, the film is entertaining. And for those who thought The Hobbit too long and boring, I guess this film is the antidote. However, I missed the playful language and witty banter of the first film. Too many films nowadays avoid that kind of lyricism, which is sad. Tolkien, among his many other talents, loved language. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey reminded me of this fact; Desolation forgets.

P. S. Was anyone else bothered by the aesthetic design of Gandalf's magic? I thought it looked too much like a video game, as opposed to the wonderful displays in Fellowship and Return of the King. How can Jackson go from the beauty of Gandalf charging down the Nine or standing up against a balrog to this?

Tragedy and Random Thoughts

Today, I am furious. Sad and furious, really. But the anger and frustration outweigh the sadness.

In my life, I've never known anyone who suffered a violent death. Yes, I've known family members, friends, and coworkers who passed suddenly, unexpectedly, but never violently.

To be honest, I don't know what to say here. My mind is still trying to process all of this, searching and grasping for some logical foothold, but these things are rarely logical, are they?

Those of you who follow my blog are probably wondering what the hell I'm talking about and with good reason. I haven't provided the story yet, the reasoning behind my bewildering words. Well, the truth of the matter is I just don't know where to begin, so I started with my thoughts.

Yesterday, I received an email from my dean, informing all of us here at Mountain View College that the director of Writing Center--and soon to be official Instructional Support Leader--had died early Sunday morning. As these things go, there was very little information regarding exactly what had happened.

I thought, well, Kevin's too young to die so suddenly. It could have been an unknown health issue. Or maybe even a car accident. Yeah, a car accident. That's what it has to be. Nothing else makes sense.

However, I soon learned that like everyone, Kevin had more going on in his life than work.

I won't go into too many details. One, because I have very little. Two, because Kevin was a private individual and probably would not have wanted his private life spread across the Internet (not that I'm presumptuous enough to assume it will make it beyond my circle of friends). So I'll just say this: He died a victim of domestic violence.

Naturally, I feel sadness for the loss of such a wonderful coworker. Kevin worked tirelessly to improve the student experience here at Mountain View College, often working long hours. He accomplished so much in his year and a half tenure as Writing Center Director that it's actually quite astonishing. He constantly promoted the cohesion of all areas in instructional support and constantly reminded us that our first priority is developing students' potential.

A gaping void has been left in his wake here at MVC.

And now to the fury.

For today's class, we were discussing a chapter of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own, specifically the part where she tells a hypothetical story involving the question, "What if Shakespeare had had a sister of equal talent?"

Basically, Woolf argues that women were incapable of reaching their full potential in Shakespeare's time because women were not allowed to cultivate their talents, and those women who had the talent to be artists of Shakespeare's caliber probably died without ever finding an avenue for their talents. It's a very good essay to remind students that education and opportunity are rather recent gifts.

In addition, it raises the question of women being treated like property, and I usually bring up the fact that even today women are not always treated with respect and dignity. Even today, violence against women is more than alarming, it's horrifying.

Yet, while in class, I couldn't help but think how violence plays such a large role throughout human society. And I'm not just talking about large acts of violence, those acts that grab most of the headlines, those acts of violence that spur gun owners to purchase bullets for protection against random acts of violence.

No, I'm more concerned with the alarming statistic that we are more likely to suffer violence at the hands of someone we love, someone close to us, than at the hands of some random stranger.

Just a couple of weeks ago, police officers were called to my apartment building because a couple had gotten into a fight and a guy had broken a mirror over his boyfriend's head. Thankfully, nothing more serious had happened, but still the incidence reminds me that domestic violence is not a problem for just one gender, but for anyone in a relationship. Violence is a human problem.

But I guess it angers me a bit more when it happens in the LGBT community. We face so many other obstacles in our lives that domestic violence seems to be forgotten, hidden, especially when coupled with the societal pressures that force us to remain hidden. Why must we hurt each other when there are plenty of people out there who are more than willing to hurt us?

Of course, this is not to diminish the violence women experience. To misquote Martin Luther King Jr., violence anywhere is an injustice everywhere. No relationship is worth taking a life. I don't care how "in love" you think you are. Obsession is not love, but merely a product of a human desire to possess.

Kevin was a kind and considerate individual. And while his slow manner sometimes frustrated my more squirrel-ish pace, his work as an educator and administrator is inspiring. He will be missed.

"Pacific Rim": Propulsive, Massive Fun

From the trailers, Pacific Rim didn't look like much. At least, not if you'd seen Transformers, Godzilla, or the many different "giant robot" series from Japan. Because the film is directed by someone who is quite well-loved, I thought Guillermo del Toro must have been angling for a paycheck. After all, this is the same man who gave us the great Pan's Labyrinth. Pacific Rim looked nothing like the brilliance found in that film, and so I was skeptical, opting to wait for the video/instant streaming release. However, the reviews started coming in, and since they were mostly positive, I decided this must be something to see on the big screen.

Indeed, I was right. Pacific Rim is a massive, overblown, special effects extravaganza; the plot is familiar, but that's the point. While Pacific Rim may be a close sibling of the Transformers films, del Toro's flourishes of style elevate the material far above anything Bay could produce, or rather, hasn't produced since The Rock. Pacific Rim's style propels the story, even during the slower moments, creating a fun and frequently beautiful film. Even though Pacific Rim didn't have quite the gut-punch Man of Steel delivered, del Toro's child-like film is the most fun I've had at the movies this summer, aside from The Heat, that is. Indeed, the film reminded of those long-gone days of spreading all of my action figures across the top bunk bed and spending hours creating "movies".

A few years in the future, Kajiu (giant, GIANT monsters) rise from the oceans and rain destruction upon the cities of the world. Faced with extinction, humans create Jaegers (giant, GIANT robots) to fight and kill the monsters. Years pass, and the humans piloting Jaegers find themselves famous, and the world begins to feel safe once again. However, the restful status is short-lived. A pair of Jaeger pilots, Raleigh Becket (Charlie Hunnan) and his older borther Yancy (Diego Klattenhoff), face off against the largest Kajiu anyone has ever fought. While the Kajiu is killed, its death comes at a terrible price.

Fast-forward a few years, and Raleigh is working on a huge wall world politicians believe will be enough to stop the Kajiu. Since Jaegers have been falling over the world, world leaders have dismantled the Jaeger program and have placed all their hope into the wall. Naturally, since this is a more than two hour film, the wall doesn't work. Raleigh finds himself in search of a new piloting partner as the world embraces imminent demise.

And let the battles commence!

I know I've already compared Pacific Rim to Transformers, and I'm sure you could infer how I feel about that series, but I think the comparison is needed to demonstrate that skill and planning can create an experience more fun than simply pointing the camera at stuff that blows up. Frequently in the Transformers films (with the exception of the first, which is actually pretty good), I have trouble keeping up with the action. Blocking and shot placement tends to confuse rather than inform. In the third film, Bumblebee is fighting a number of bad robots in what I thought was one part of the city, and then he magically appears to save Shia LaBeouf's character in what I thought was a completely different part of the city.

See, in those films, the action's sole purpose is to look really cool. Who cares about time and space, so long as the shots look cool? Well, time and space mean something, and when one character can simply appear at will to save someone else, there's no suspense, no sense of danger, so what's the point?

Guillermo del Toro, on the other hand, knows exactly where his camera is in time and space. He knows exactly where his characters are. Although the film mostly takes place at night during torrential downpours, I was never lost. Although both the monsters and the robots are CGI creations, there labored movements, and the actor's performances created action set pieces that seemed grounded in some semblance of physical reality. And that makes a huge difference in films with fantastical elements.

However, del Toro knows he's creating a "monster movie," and so he throws in fun moments where he seems to be winking at the audience, bringing them along for the ride, knowing that the film is first and foremost a ride. When one Jaeger wields an oil tanker like a sword, I laughed. The image is absurd, but fun nevertheless.

Of all the summer blockbusters that have been released this summer, at least the ones I've seen so far, Pacific Rim has a director who has a sense of style but doesn't let that style distract from the story; instead, that style propels the narrative forward, bringing the audience along for the fun. Thank you del Toro for reminding me that there are directors out there who can take mediocre material and elevate it beyond the promise of its story. Well done.

"Sharknado"... NO!

A few months ago this movie was brought to my attention on Facebook. Humorously, a friend provided a link to a movie that was seeking distribution during the festival circuit. The movie poster promises insane silliness, especially considering the tag line is "Enough said!" With a poster that features great white sharks spinning around in a tornado, I was a little skeptical of the film's merits. But, that same friend requested a full review, including the velocity required to pull so many sharks out of the sea. Unfortunately for us both, the film fails to deliver the goods.

I was looking forward to the silly shenanigans afoot in the film. Hell, one of my favorite past times with my dad is dissecting the absurdities found in cheesy sci-fi films. We even do that with the good ones. The fun of watching a terrible movie is making fun of it. Just look at the Twilight movies; those are a riot. From the reviews and the advanced press, Sharknado promised to be the type of silly entertainment my dad and I would enjoy watching together.

And so, with bated breath, Tim and I prepared ourselves for a truly awful movie. Tim wasn't nearly as prepared for the horror of cinema he was about to watch. We settled ourselves onto the couch and cued up the DVR. There it was... Sharknado... just as they promised. A preposterous title, with an even more preposterous story. This was going to be great.

In my head, I was imagining sharks flying everywhere, something like a cross between Night of the Twisters and Jaws 3, with special effects so terrible that the filmmakers had to have known what they were doing. Sharknado promised to be a self-parody of disaster movies, a film that didn't take itself too seriously. And with a premise like that, how could they?

The first shot was actually pretty cool. Across a dark sea, shark fins, hundreds of them, pierce the surface of the water as the sharks attempt--or are they?--to flee the oncoming storm. And in the distance, a tornado bears down on the school of sharks.

It's a great start. But the budget of the film and all its creativity seems to have been used up in the first shot. Pity.

Los Angeles is facing an unprecedented hurricane. And in the midst of this unprecedented storm is a very familiar story: estranged father reconnects with his ex-wife and children while trying to save them. Naturally, my first reaction to all the melodrama was this: "There are sharks flying through windows!" How can anyone be concerned with who is doing what to whom when sharks are swimming through the streets, flying through the air, and causing mayhem everywhere, even in Beverly Hills? 

But, that's a small problem. There are larger issues to be dealt with, for example, the film's complete disregard for its own absurdities. If the script had been wittier, more self-referential, more aware of its craziness, I could have forgiven the bad filmmaking. I could have forgiven the fact that the film was filmed in daylight, hoping that the grey filters and infrequent rain would be enough to confuse us. That was probably intentional, but the characters never seem to recognize that this is one odd hurricane, even more odd than the flying sharks. The hurricane doesn't act like a hurricane. The rain and wind are sporadic. Now, I've never been through a hurricane, but it's my understanding that the rain and wind don't stop, not unless you're in the middle of the storm's eye or the storm has passed. However, I may be wrong on this. Florida friends, help me out!

Sharknado's actual antagonist is boredom. Here I was hoping to see sharks flying all over the place with twenty, fifty, possibly hundreds of tornadoes, and the filmmakers only gave us four. FOUR! That's it?! That's what I waited months for? A measly four tornadoes. What a rip off! I suffered through terrible special effects, subpar attempts at humor, characterizations and plot developments that insulted the actors, and all for what... four tornadoes. Ugh!

When the heroes of the film finally (FINALLY) found themselves facing true "sharknadoes" it was too late. I had given up, even when the characters suggested that bombs could defuse the tornadoes. I was despondent and furious. Even that couldn't make me laugh. Awful thing to watch what promises to be a terrible movie, and it turns out only to be a terrible movie. I was hoping for more. I was hoping for the absurdity to reach epic proportions.

And that's exactly what the filmmakers gave me. (Spoiler Warning! Like any of you are actually going to see this...) One character, in her attempt to destroy the final tornado, falls from a helicopter and is swallowed whole by a shark. The scene is funny... But wait! It gets even better.

As the terror is over and sharks are falling from the sky, the hero sees his daughter threatened by a falling shark. He runs, wielding a chainsaw, pushes her out the way and leaps into the maw of the shark. Like his friend, he is swallowed whole. All is lost.

But no, what's that sound? Is that the sound of a chainsaw? Why, yes, it is. The hero is not so dead after all. He is cutting his way through the innards of the shark.

When the chainsaw cut its way through the shark fell onto the ground, Tim said, "Naturally birth: That's some terrifying shit!" Indeed, I was thinking about the same thing. 

Wait, the hero is going back inside the shark. What is he doing? You know what he's doing. He's pulling out the woman who had been swallowed earlier. A quick round of CPR and she's saved.  

Tim just stares at the screen, open mouthed, and I can't stop laughing. At the end, when all hope is lost, Sharknado finally delivers on the potential presented in the poster and opening shot. However, it was too late. Even on the level of so-awful-it's-good, I cannot recommend this movie with a clean conscience. If you do want to see the good bad stuff, simply skip to the final half hour of the film. Or find the ending on YouTube. I'm sure someone posted it. 

I, for one, will have to wipe clean the stains this film left on the walls of my consciousness. Maybe Caligula is out there somewhere... Or even Howard the Duck... Then again, no. Sharknado isn't THAT bad. 

"Upstream Color": A Glorious, Hypnotic Tale

The first time I ever watched 2001: A Space Odyssey I knew immediately that I had watched something great. What the damn thing meant in a larger sense, I wasn't too sure, but it was great. Years later, I have a better understanding of 2001 and have watched a similarly thought-provoking, beautiful film. Upstream Color is hypnotic, literally as it turns out, and stunning. It's impact lasts long after the final shot. In short, I wish I could watch more movies like this. I wish I could go to festivals and watch an unknown film unfold with the kind of exhilaration that comes from not knowing exactly what's happening next. 

On IMBD, the plot is the following: "A man and woman are drawn together, entangled in the life cycle of an ageless organism. Identity becomes an illusion as they struggle to assemble the loose fragments of wrecked lives." That is the most unhelpful synopses I have ever read. Intriguing, yes, but essentially unhelpful. The film starts with a woman, Kris (Amy Seimetz). She's successful, living by herself, with the normal obligations of a successful person in life. Pretty much, she's normal. However, her world is forever altered when an unknown man drugs her by forcing her to drink an worm-like organism; he takes her back to her home and begins a long hypnosis. Kris is forced to take out a loan and empty her bank account (in addition to performing mind-numbing tasks), and the days upon days of her absence cost her her job. 

Kris' life is destroyed, and she doesn't even remember what happened. She only remembers waking up to her apartment's mess, a scar on her ankle, and a huge loss of time. But life goes on, and so must she. In the middle of her new life, she encounters Jeff (Shane Carruth). The two slowly fall in love, even through all of their eccentricities, for the most part unaware of the deeper bond they share. 

The synopsis above does little to convey the style in which this story is told. The plot unfolds in repeated scenes, overlapping dialogue, huge leaps in time, and parallel stories that are hard to connect at first. In fact, very little dialogue is spoken, only enough to facilitate the scene. After the initial hypnosis, the film feels like how I imagine hypnotism. The mind wanders and questions reality, questions identity, wondering if everything it's experiencing is nothing more than illusions, suggestions, planted there by someone else. 

Upstream Color is study on the nature of free will, on our own capacity to break free when outside forces attempt to control our lives. But it's also a wonderful love story. What's even more impressive is that this film is as effective as it is. Pure cinema at its finest. Indeed, I frequently thought of silent films while watching this one. How joyous it is to watch a film that doesn't feel the need to assault our senses with unnecessary noise. Instead, we can watch a story being told through gestures, through images. Lives unfold this way; memories are stored this way. Upstream Color is emotional and truly hypnotic in its presentation, a wonderful experience overall, and a glorious addition to the science-fiction genre. 2001 has great company.