"You're a fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you
are only quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all."
For as long as I can remember, I have claimed this quote from the conclusion of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit
as my favorite, adopting it as my personal mantra. After all,
unassuming hobbit Bilbo Baggins is the first literary character with
whom I deeply identified, and that identification has helped to shape my
life. No other character has meant as much to me as Bilbo has, so few
films have elicited the kind of anticipation within me that Peter
Jackson's The Hobbit has. First, I thought it would be one movie that would come out a few years after Lord of the Rings.
Later, I was intrigued by the prospect of two. When I heard this year
that it would be a trilogy, I chuckled, since the territory it has to
cover is so much smaller. Nonetheless, I wasn't about to complain about
Bilbo getting three movies for himself, and after seeing the first last
night, I really think Jackson and company can swing it.
The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
starts in familiar territory with Ian Holm's well-preserved
111-year-old Bilbo preparing for the birthday party that, unbeknownst to
his nephew Frodo (Elijah Wood in a very brief cameo), will also serve
as his going-away party. At the same time, he is recounting his
adventure on paper, and at first, I found myself wondering if he would
continue to interject his comments, Forrest Gump-style,
throughout the film. Instead, Holm's purpose is mainly exposition -
providing a history lesson on the conflict that ultimately drove the
Dwarves in his direction - and charming bookending device. The rapport
between Bilbo and Frodo is great fun, and it makes me curious whether
any other latter-day characters - particularly Samwise Gamgee - might
turn up for a moment in one of the last two films.
But as much
as I love Holm as Bilbo, this film belongs to Martin Freeman, who from
his first moments on screen adroitly captures the humor, warmth and
hidden stores of courage within this hobbit who is so jarringly whisked
out of his comfortable life. He and Sir Ian McKellan delight in the
banter of Bilbo and Gandalf's first exchange in one of the scenes that
is most faithful to Tolkien's witty dialogue. It cements the curious
kinship between the grizzled wizard and the sheltered hobbit. Despite
their differences, there truly is a special bond of spirits, of naïf and
mentor, of world-weary wanderer and fresh igniter of hope. Gandalf sees
in Bilbo a simple purity of soul sufficient to counteract the gathering
evil in the world. He is merely one thread in a grand mosaic, but it's a
golden thread that reassures the wizard of the high beauty that no
Necromancer can blot out.
The Hobbit has always been
Bilbo's story, but to a certain extent, Jackson expands it by making it
almost equally about Gandalf and deposed Dwarf leader Thorin Oakenshield
(Richard Armitage). I've always found Thorin a harsh character, and he
remains so here, but in focusing his passion more on his slain relatives
than his lost gold, the film makes him come across more
sympathetically. For Thorin, this quest is about honor and reclaiming
what was stolen from him. For Gandalf, it's about how this relatively
minor journey fits in with the much larger picture he sees beginning to
take shape. Just an occasional sidelong glance or twinkle of the eye is
enough to reveal that Gandalf has his own purposes of which neither
Thorin nor Bilbo have any inkling. This is most overt during the sojourn
in Rivendell, when he holds a secret conference with Elf lord Elrond
(Hugo Weaving), white wizard Saruman (Christopher Lee) and beneficent
Elven queen Galadriel (Cate Blanchett). While the presence of the latter
two is pure addition by Jackson, it feels entirely plausible and
provides one of the strongest ties with the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
In the book, Bilbo's perspective is paramount, and we never leave his
side for any length of time. Here, he is sometimes absent for
significant stretches. Nonetheless, it still feels like Bilbo's tale,
and Freeman portrays him perfectly. We see Bilbo as a gentle but
insulated soul. Accustomed to his cozy, solitary lifestyle, he believes
himself content to remain cloistered in lush, familiar surroundings,
concerning himself only with his own affairs. Where Jackson makes
changes to the story, it is often in the interest of creating bonding
opportunities for Bilbo and the Dwarves. The tender friendship between
Bilbo and the aged Balin (Ken Stott), perhaps the most mild-mannered of
the Dwarves, comes across well, as does the more visceral camaraderie
offered by the exuberant young brothers Fili (Dean O'Gorman) and Kili
(Aidan Turner).
Of course, there's also the slow thawing of
Thorin's antagonism toward him and the pure magic of every conversation
with Gandalf, whether they are bickering like a couple of crusty
curmudgeons or gathering strength from each other in the midst of their
frailties. Freeman's comic timing is impeccable, and so is his sense of
Bilbo's soul, the courage and compassion that lie deep within him,
largely untapped. One of the most exquisite moments in the film occurs
when Bilbo awakes to a silent, empty hobbit hole, and for all his
grumbling at the unexpected visitors the night before, in his bearing
and especially his eyes is the sting of regret that he has missed a
meeting with destiny, following by the flood of relief that he can still
make the choice he was so abruptly offered. This is a quest that Bilbo
needs to take.
I could make complaints about changes and
additions to the book, but few of them bothered me. I would have liked
to see a few more opportunities for Bilbo to show off his special
skills, particularly in regard to Thorin's map, and I'm not sure how I
feel about his diving into the fray of a battle. While he does spar with
spiders in the book, I always think of Bilbo as a pacifist - as well as
one who prefers to stay out of trouble's way when he can. I'm not
convinced it's entirely true to him to do something so potentially
self-sacrificing, especially this early in his journey, but it does
powerfully demonstrate the sense of responsibility he has come to feel
for his comrades. One of my favorite additions is the sage advice
Gandalf offers him: "True courage is about not knowing when to take a
life, but when to spare one." If courage is to be equated with mercy,
Bilbo truly shines in his encounter with Gollum, and Andy Serkis is once
again a master class in acting as he brings him to life in all his
wretched misery, infusing the tormented character with a humanity that
makes him hilarious, horrifying and heartbreaking all at once.
The most glaring addition to the film is Radagast the Brown, a wizard
who, as played by Sylvester McCoy, is definitely one egg short of an
omelet. Despite the eccentricity of this batty St. Francis of
Middle-earth who travels about in a rabbit-drawn sledge, he, like
Gandalf, sees the wonder inherent in small things, making him more
attuned to the evil that affects the vulnerable. As I have always been
fond of the character and found him underused, I was happy to see him
here, even if he is largely relegated to comic relief. He may look
ridiculous, but at the same time, he has an insight the stately Saruman
lacks. While actually inserting him into Bilbo's adventure is a major
departure, it's one that makes me smile, and it is another element of
the film that helps set the stage for Frodo's later quest.
Peter Jackson loves battle sequences, and the movie is full of them.
While it's probably fair to say he goes a bit overboard, particularly
when he creates battles that aren't in the book, they are exciting and
should be enough to satisfy those coming to the movie for an adrenaline
rush. The film is solemn when it needs to be, with the somber chant of
the Dwarves in Bag End a particularly potent example, and Howard Shore's
score enhances the most soul-stirring moments. It also rarely goes more
than a few minutes without some humor, which is sometimes found in
Tolkien's zingy dialogue and sometimes in the visual and physical comedy
of the fastidious Bilbo and various bumbling Dwarves. While it perhaps
borrows excessively from the Lothlorien interlude in Fellowship of the Ring,
the sojourn in Rivendell swells with the amusement of the clash between
the gruff Dwarves and the ethereal Elves. Only Gandalf and Bilbo truly
find it a restful retreat.
Much has been said about Jackson's
innovative film techniques here. I saw it in 2D and noticed no
significant difference, though as before I was impressed with the
absolute visual majesty of the world Jackson and his team of artisans
and effects wizards created. It absolutely feels like stepping into
Middle-earth, from the humble, verdant beauty of the Shire to the sylvan
glory of Rivendell and the grotesque gloom of Gollum's cave. While I
wanted to focus on the story opening night, I am curious about the 3D
and will probably try to see it in that format before it leaves
theaters. I'm sure that I will also catch subtle details I missed the
first time around; there's just so much to take in.
Is it
overly grandiose to turn this fairly simple tale into a full-fledged
trilogy? Perhaps. Even Jackson didn't intend to initially, but the film
doesn't feel overblown to me. It feels like a legitimate first part of a
prequel trilogy with Bilbo at the center. While his mission is not as
important as Frodo's, it has grand ripples. What's more, it is a more
personal story, since one character remains absolutely central to the
proceedings. While we may spend some time with Gandalf and with Thorin
apart from Bilbo, I certainly don't anticipate the kind of fragmentation
we saw in The Two Towers and Return of the King. This is a
journey of many hues, but first and foremost, it's the tale of a
peaceful, pastoral recluse who goes out into the world and discovers all
that it has to offer - and all that he has to offer it.
