So, as 'The Hobbit' part 1 comes out, in going over my post trashing Jackson's movie versions of The Lord of the Rings, a few things became clear (several pointed out by commenters):
First, I was a bit overharsh in my critique at times. 'Garbage-quality film-making' is a strong way to describe a few examples of things that didn't work, amid ten hours of film narrative. Every film has its flaws.
While I was hyperbolic, though, my problem with Jackson's treatment of his characters seems to stand up to closer scrutiny pretty well: they seem generally Hollywoodized and simplified, even when these things are not necessary (ten hours is plenty of time to develop this cast; Jackson and his screenwriters simply do not seem interested in doing so). When Jackson's cast are not overly modern, they seem dumbed down and oversentimentalized, in a way that contrasts markedly both with Tolkien's vision (the sense of medieval heroism and dignity the author seemed to want to portray, in varying forms, in his elves, dwarfs and high men, even in more morally problematic characters like Boromir, who had a Davidian ethos of responsibility and protecting the weak, even if he lacked the wisdom of a true king) and the needs of nuanced storytelling. I am talking, here, of simplification and changes such as in the following characters:
Sam: in the book he's young and lacks of knowledge of the world, but is nevertheless a pretty tough, loyal, and practical working class fellow, and, storywise, probably the strongest of the hobbit charactercs, aside from Bilbo in 'The Hobbit.' In the film, though, Sam is strangely fat, whiny, emotionally vulnerable, and sentimental, as well as a little stupid.
Eowyn: in the book, a lady made of ice, fire, high station, and a sword-arm. In the film, she's less wooden (and this is probably a good thing), but in becoming more human seems to default toward sentimentality and vulnerability just like Samwise, above. Just as he loses his place as a respectable, salt-of-the-earth, working-class hobbit, she's much less of a strong woman in the film. The writing cuts against her independent, defiant heroism--in her climactic scene, she's just lucky, in the film, that a midget snuck up behind the zombie who rides pterodactyl and stabbed the guy.
Re: Galadriel, I think my commentor Buzz/Doom may have overstated things by accusing Jackson of failing 'basic reading comprehension.' Rather, Jackson made a deliberate choice to sacrifice consistency of character and a chance for development, for the sake of visual drama. Nevertheless, he and Diapadion are correct that her major scene is substantively altered and possibly dumbed down; in The Two Towers (the book), when Galadriel is tempted by the ring, it's fairly clear that she's ready for this test, and gives a speech about her temptation and its consequences in order to educate Frodo about the risk he's carrying with him. There are fewer fireworks, but Galadriel's cold wisdom and psychological preparation are palpable, and fairly good storytelling, even if one realizes afterward there was almost no chance she was on the point of giving in to The Ring.
In the film, on the other hand, the test is a major point of drama, something she almost fails. By making the change, Jackson gives his viewers another miniclimax to keep the tension up in a long movie, and spruces it up with some somewhat memorable visuals (Cate Blanchett color-shifted and blowing in the wind of the ring's power), though the lack of effective backing on the soundtrack somewhat dampens the scene's effect. It also loses the nuances surrounding the elf-queen's wisdom--which is a problem since she's a major character, and this is really her only scene. In the film, we are told, not shown, that she's wise--and the story is weaker because of it.
Other, more minor characters are Hollywoodised: the Mouth of Sauron, who in the book seems to be a corrupted member of a proud, ancient race of high men (i.e. the same folk as Aragorn, though of older and purer blood), whereas in the film he's a generic half-monster in black armor who's there to get his head chopped off, in the film. There's also the matter of Gimli and Merry and Pippin, who, while not fully developed in the book, are more than the slapstick comic relief they tend toward being in the film--especially the Dwarf, which is unfortunate since he's the only member of his race in the principal cast, giving the impression that the dwarves' champion is more Buster Keaton than Thorin Oakenshield.
Oh, and why did Treebeard have the same voice as the dwarf, Gimli, causing a subconscious association between the two (very different) characters?
(continued above)
No comments:
Post a Comment