Movie Review: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Date: 2012

Director: Peter Jackson

Summary: When the wizard Gandalf knocks on his door, the very unadventurous Bilbo Baggins finds himself on a journey to reclaim the stolen gold of a band of Dwarves.  The first in a trilogy.

Review: Despite the changes Peter Jackson’s film made to the source material, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey managed to hit nearly all the right notes.  It deftly balanced the demands to create a work emotionally consistent with the previous Lord of the Rings trilogy while creating something new and exciting.  A cast composed of both old and new characters helped to bridge the trilogies, as did the return to many familiar (and beautiful) landscapes.  Seeing the Shire again felt like coming home after a decade.  The visual appeal of the film as well as the many talented actors involved made An Unexpected Journey into an exciting and heartwarming adventure.  Still, an exploration of the changes made can still prove a worthwhile endeavor.

Although Jackson made major character changes to Faramir, Treebeard, and Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, the characters of The Hobbit remain largely as Tolkien wrote them.  The most notable change was probably made to the Dwarves as a whole.  For most of the story, Tolkien depicts the Dwarves as more concerned about themselves and their gold than about Bilbo—or anyone else.  As a result, they can come across as stubborn, petty, and even a tad callous at times, despite the author’s assurance that they really would help Bilbo if he needed it.  Furthermore, the group as a whole seems almost completely unprepared for the quest on which they embark.  They have no long-term plan that will enable them to retrieve their gold and they consistently fail to make short-term plans, resulting in their continued imminent demise.  The Dwarves as a whole thus tend to look a bit ridiculous—or at least they end up in ridiculous situations.

Jackson notes the lighter tone of The Hobbit and takes care to add humor to his story, though his jokes tend to rely on a crude sort of humor rather than the sophisticated underlying irony of Tolkien’s story.  He cannot use this irony, however, because of the fundamental changes made to the Dwarves: his Dwarves are warriors, noble, strong, loyal, and willing to fight. Unlike the Dwarves of Tolkien’s story, they do not find themselves in trouble because they make foolish decisions.  Rather, they enter almost every fight swinging their swords with triumphant music swelling behind them, and find themselves in trouble simply because they are outnumbered or outmaneuvered.  Jackson really wants audiences to feel for these Dwarves and to cheer them on.  Thus, he does not risk making them look foolish.

This change arguably makes sense from a narrative standpoint, as do the changes made to Bilbo’s character.  The changes to Bilbo may seem subtle, but they are important.  Jackson’s Bilbo takes more of an initiative on his journey from the very beginning, when he runs out his front door on his own volition, rather than on the prompting of Gandalf.  He also takes over some of Gandalf’s roles in various situations when attempting to rescue the Dwarves.  Whereas Tolkien’s Bilbo will not really come into his own until he fights the giant spiders, Jackson’s Bilbo consistently does small things to assert his importance to the group.  Again, Jackson wants to prove to audiences that they should care about this Hobbit.

Arguably, however, Jackson would not have needed to give Bilbo larger roles at the beginning of the story if he had stuck to Tolkien’s story.  Jackson’s current contributions to The Hobbit are mostly composed of extended (and, I would suggest, unnecessary) fight scenes.  These bloated the movie to such an extent that Jackson could not reach the stopping point I might have suggested if he produced only two films: the Mirkwood spiders.  If Jackson had could have shown this scene at the end of movie one, he could have adhered to Tolkien’s more subtle character arc.  Bilbo would have begun the film a fearful Baggins, but ended it with two important victories: escaping the goblin caves by himself and using Sting for the first time.  Because this proved impossible with a three-film structure, Jackson had to invent Bilbo’s introduction to combat—a rather confusing fight with random orcs (one of whom should, in Tolkien’s timeline, already be dead). 

Why Jackson added the extended fight scenes as well as the vengeful stalker orc Azog I cannot fathom.  The book does not lack for action.  Indeed, it is composed of a series of episodes that form a narrative of non-stop hair-breadth escapes for the Dwarves and Bilbo.  It is possible to have excitement without the violence of combat.  These changes still worked for the story that Jackson made, but I feel I have to protest them on the grounds that they were only added because of some belief that Jackson could tell a better story than Tolkien.

Even so, the film did a lot of things right.  The cast was extraordinary, especially Martin Freeman, Andy Serkis, and Richard Armitage.  The landscapes were gorgeous and I would have paid money just to have a camera tour of Middle-earth without showing and Dwarves or Hobbits or Elves at all.  Most importantly, however, the film kept the message at the heart of the story: the lesson that “small” acts and “small” people are not small at all.  Gandalf summed it up eloquently in the film, responding to Galadriel’s question: “Why the Halfling?”:

Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found.  I have found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay…small acts of kindness and love.  Why Bilbo Baggins?  That’s because I am afraid and it gives me courage.

Simply beautiful.

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

Goodreads: The Hobbit

Series: prequel to The Lord of the Rings

Published: 1937

Source: Purchased

Summary: Bilbo Baggins lives a quiet existence in his home under the hill, studiously avoiding anything that sounds remotely like an adventure.  When the wizard Gandalf enlists him on a quest to retrieve the long-lost gold of a band of dwarves, however, Bilbo suddenly finds himself longing to explore the world.  He faces goblins, wolves, spiders, and even the prisons of the Elven King, but nothing can prepare him for his encounter with the great dragon Smaug. The prequel to The Lord of the Rings.

Review: In many ways, The Hobbit resists categorization.  It presents itself as a children’s book, yet exhibits a writing style more sophisticated than readers are accustomed to seeing in such stories.  It seems to follow in the footsteps of the traditional questing stories, yet breaks from the mold at the last moment, turning into a commentary on greed, the lust for power, and war.  It works as a prequel for The Lord of the Rings, but diverges so greatly in style and content that many fans of Frodo’s adventure find themselves unable to connect with Bilbo’s, and vice versa.  Quite simply, it defies genres and expectations, creating a new vision for what fantasy should be and do.

From the very beginning, The Hobbit announces its intent to do something a little different.  Its hero possesses no extraordinary qualities—he lacks strength, speed, military prowess, and exceptional intelligence.  Readers might excuse this, but he also seems to lack something even more important—heart.  Young protagonists often set out on quests with little to prepare them, but they usually have some sort of naïve courage to sustain them or some dream that keeps them going.  Bilbo’s greatest dream is to be left in peace so he can have second breakfast.

Despite all of this, I think all readers recognize that Bilbo is the very Hobbit for the job—and not simply because he happens to be the titular character.  Contrary to all reason, his very ordinariness enables him to endure an arduous journey full of danger.  It gives him a frame of reference that the Dwarves lack, so that he can put things in perspective and accomplish things no one else can.  With no pride to cloud his vision, he is able to put together a rescue plan of which the Dwarves would have never dreamed simply because such an escape requires them to lose their dignity for a time.  With no dragon lust upon him, he is able to value lives above gold.  Time and again, Bilbo proves his usefulness by doing one thing: focusing on the preservation of people above all else.

Bilbo’s concerns for the welfare of others can seem positively mundane when compared to the concerns of others.  The Dwarves seek revenge for the deaths of their fathers, the men of Dale seek recompense for their lost livelihood, and the King of the Wood-Elves seeks for more beautiful things to add to his own collection.  These characters may also consider the lives of their followers, but there always seems to be some sort of calculation involved—essentially they are asking themselves how much gold is a life worth.  Maybe readers will accept this.  After all, things like honor and revenge seem proper and fitting matters for lords to contemplate.  Bilbo, however, quietly, deconstructs such notions by his actions.  For him, the answer is clear: no amount of gold will ever make up for the loss of a life.  He can see this precisely because of who is and where he comes from—a place where they value food and cheer above gold and jewels.

Gandalf may have enlisted Bilbo as a burglar, but Bilbo's "luck" clearly did not preserve him through so many adventures merely so he could steal a cup.  Bilbo's presence was required for so much more--to serve as an example for others.  By being "ordinary," Bilbo shows he, like the rest of us, is really extraordinary.

Engaging the Culture: J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit

Today we begin discussing J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit.  Be forewarned that this post may contain spoilers!

Although J. R. R. Tolkien’s devotion to the Catholic faith is no secret, little about The Hobbit seems to suggest that Tolkien meant to convey anything about his personal beliefs through his writings.  The book presents itself as a delightful children’s story that takes on the traditional questing theme, but in a lighthearted manner; Bilbo Baggins, after all, is not exactly standard hero material.  No one ever discusses morality, no one ever mentions God.  However, as G. K. Chesterton writes in The Everlasting Man, “It is impossible, I hope, for any Catholic to write any book on any subject…without showing that he is a Catholic.”  Tolkien’s philosophy and values form the basis for the entire book, guiding his choice of hero, his depiction of character development, and his final decision to turn his children’s story into a surprisingly sophisticated commentary on personal morality and the nature of war.  His world and the rules that guide it are ultimately Catholic, even if the characters are not.

Tolkien’s Middle-earth is meant to be our world, though in a time long ago before Christianity.  The characters do not know or worship Christ, but they are theoretically still bound by the moral law written on our hearts.  That is, they have the ability to recognize evil and a responsibility to choose good.  Though no character refers to a deity (Gandalf comes close by suggesting that something more than luck preserves Bilbo throughout his adventures), they all instinctively recognize the value of qualities such as honesty, loyalty, and hospitality while instinctively hating the senseless violence of the orcs.  Nearly all the characters at some point will face temptation to do wrong, and their response to that temptation will rule their fate.

Tolkien, however, never resorts to allegory to depict man’s struggle with temptation.  Instead, he depicts it naturally through the choices faced by his characters.  Their story resonates because these choices have real consequences—evil is repaid with evil and good repaid with good.  Although it sometimes seems that in this life the wicked flourish while the good suffer, a Catholic worldview holds that in the end all will receive their just reward.  The consequences experienced by the characters of The Hobbit reflect this belief and thus seem fitting.

So it is that Smaug, overcome with pride, reveals to Bilbo his one weakness—and seals his own fate.  The dwarfs, overcome with dragon lust, determine to sit on their pile of gold until they starve—and suffer for it.  Bilbo alone resists greed for wealth and he alone is able to return to his home whole and happy.  The key to the entire text lies in Thorin’s final words to the Hobbit: “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”  This is no ordinary quest story.  Bilbo does not leave his comfortable Hobbit hole to gain something as vulgar as gold.  Rather, he leaves his Hobbit hole because doing so enables him to grow as a person, to recognize the value of what he already has, and to serve as an example for others.

Such a message contradicts many of those seen today in books and film.  How often are we emotionally manipulated by storytellers to cheer for an adulterous relationship?  How often do we find ourselves secretly approving of characters who take revenge on those who have wronged them, rather than extending forgiveness?  We may find ourselves able to relate to such characters, but we cannot admire them--not as we can admire Bilbo and his surprising strength and courage.  Bilbo is fairly unique among modern heroes.  He is an Everyman, but one who demonstrates the possibility of personal moral growth.  He gives hope to us all.

So will Peter Jackson's version of The Hobbit keep the underlying Christian themes?  I cannot say with certainty as I have yet to view the film.  However, unless Jackson makes major changes to the story (such as he did with Aragorn, Faramir, and Treebeard in The Lord of the Rings), the overall message of evil leading to evil and good leading to good should remain.  If not, at least viewers may find themselves inspired to read Tolkien's original work.