The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Some part of me must bitterly admit that out there in the world are those people who were glad when Return of the King was done, because it meant the Ring craze would finally die down. Well, sorry you un-nerdy philistines! It only took the better part of nine years to return to Middle Earth, but thanks to the tireless efforts of the visionary Peter Jackson and his brilliant creative team, the days of Middle Earth have returned to theaters. The result is an entirely new film consistent with the spirit of the novel, though not entirely consistent with the previously established Middle Earth of the Lord of the Rings movies. The results are fine, but… mixed.

Depending on your level of acquaintance with the Lord of the Rings trilogy, you may or may not notice Middle Earth feeling a bit different this time around. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey goes to great lengths to identify itself closely with The Lord of the Rings trilogy, with cameo appearances by Lord of the Rings characters that strictly speaking, ought not to appear in The Hobbit from a purist's perspective.  But for the moment I won't trouble you my reader too much with talk of the book, even if it is one of my favorites of all time. Back to the point, while the Hobbit takes some creative opportunities to identify itself with The Lord of the Rings, it takes a few steps of its own that are entirely unlike The Lord of the Rings, giving The Hobbit its own distinctive style.

The first and most obvious of these divergences, are the villainous beastly orcs and goblins (the distinction between the two is especially hazy here). A goblin commander is introduced here named Azog the Defiler, who is tall and pale with battle scars and a nasty club grown into his elbow where his arm used to be. There is no doubt that this Azog is not just another growling goblin, but a hero to his side of the conflict. But I have a slight issue with Azog, beyond his presence contradicting certain details of Middle Earth history: he's too clean. Other than the club in his arm a few battle scars, he looks like he showers often-- his flesh itself is just very clean. I am not trying to indicate that every goblin and orc must aspire to be like the sordid leader of the Uruk-Hai from The Fellowship of the Ring, but Azog's lack of weathering fundamentally affected my perception of him. In the past these sorts were disgusting-- they looked sticky and wreaked of rotting flesh and unhealed wounds. Here they are still ugly, but more than capable of walking about in daylight as though they own it, without bothering to even think about lurking in shadows. As odd as Azog may have been, he was nothing compared to the Goblin King. 

The Goblin King was a spectacular display of the influence of Guillermo del Toro, but His Majesty was a bit too comical to be taken seriously as anything other than Jabba the Hutt with legs. After the capture of the dwarves, the Goblin King is seen dancing and stamping his feet as he sings a jolly tune about crushing their bones, only to be cut off abruptly from his lively song when someone's sword accidentally falls into view and scares him. This convenient diversion gives the company enough time to scramble about and collect themselves into fighting mode so they can slash and push their way to the exit. The Goblin King reappears menacingly, and then dies in a forcefully comic manner so anticlimactic, that even His Royal Ugliness could not come up with better parting words. 

Unfortunately, the rest of the goblins are not much better. Personally, I found it difficult to really accept most of the goblins and other orcs as flesh and blood. Perhaps it was the lack of ooze that I was accustomed to after three Lord of the Rings movies, but these goblins often felt like computer generated foes who possess too little wit to do anything but shriek and twitch and fight at the outsiders. When the band of dwarves make their grand escape and many goblins meet their doom at the tip of a sword, there is something amiss. In The Fellowship of the Ring for example, in the battle of Moria, each sword was plunged and clashed with conviction and fury. The heroes sweat with the exhausting efforts of defeating such great numbers. The factor that makes you wince when a being is sliced by sword, or the tension of knowing how much the character is putting himself out to defeat said foes, is simply absent. Ill-timed comic levity also breaks up the intensity of what could have been a very engaging fight sequence, making it more akin to Pirates of the Caribbean. 

Now that the goblins have had some roasting, I move my attention to the dwarves. The first thing I will say in praise of the dwarves was the wise idea to individualize each of the fourteen into distinctive characters. The most striking among them is Thorin Oakenshield, played excellently by Richard Armitage. Armitage gives the character Thorin the heart and depth of a convincing leader and courageous warrior, while still leaving room for development later on. For the most part, Thorin is a hard and somewhat edgy-tempered dwarf, but his eyes soften when he speaks of his home and his desire to reclaim it. He is just, in a word, passionate. He is passionate about his homeland and the mission to reclaim it, passionate about his hatred of elves, passionate in his leadership of the dwarves, and so on.

The rest of the dwarves are a mishmash band, most of whom look absolutely nothing like Gimli from Lord of the Rings. To be fair, fourteen Gimli look a-likes would be overwhelming and it was hard enough to keep track of them all with so many of them onscreen. That is why I said it was wise to individualize the fourteen into distinctive characters. Even then however, there are too many to keep up with. Aside from Thorin, Kili and Fili are the only ones who really stand out, and that’s because they’re the young whippersnappers and the most attractive. Seriously speaking, I strongly suspect that the overnight success of Orlando Bloom due to Lord of the Rings contributed to the casting choices here, as if someone said “we need some pretty faces…it will pull in the young female crowd and sell posters.” Not that I’m complaining—they both behave in a properly dwarvish manner, but with a bit more Merry and Pippin type look of mischief in their eyes. It was a fair casting choice, but probably also a strategic one in terms of marketing. The oldest and most distinguished dwarf called Balin is the only other one that really makes an impression, and that’s partially because he narrates a bit of history. He’s also a nice old boy whom Thorin is quite tender towards, and sometimes shares the mantle of wise elder with Gandalf.

I had wondered on whether or not I should really mention this, but since I’m here I may as well and you may choose not to read it. It seems that along with deciding to cast the younger dwarves as attractive sorts, someone must have also determined that there should be a character to represent the metrosexuals and a character to represent those who were bullied in school. Yes, you read that correctly. There is a dwarf with finely combed hair who is a connoisseur of fine wine, and one rather skinny dwarf with a bowl haircut and no facial hair who talks with a bit of a stutter. By nature of the culture, dwarves are great stoneworkers, metalworkers, and smiths. The odd characterizations of the two mentioned above go against this significantly, and really do not add anything to the story.

The strongest performances and characters here are Thorin, Bilbo, and Gandalf. Ian McKellen reprises his role as Gandalf, with no real surprises. The only real surprise to Gandalf’s character this time around is how he comes off so carefree at times, and uncertain at other times. However, an important thing to keep in mind is that the times of The Hobbit are far less precarious than the times of The Lord of the Rings, and Gandalf’s attitude reflects that. He is overall less serious here, often contributing to the comic levity throughout.

Bilbo, ingeniously portrayed by Martin Freeman, makes for a lovable and connectable protagonist. Bilbo begins as a determined homebody, and really no one would blame him for loving his life full of good food and pipe weed. As a lead protagonist, I must say that Bilbo is extremely personable with his quirks, outbursts, and love of domestic life. Of all the scenes in the movie, the sequence with Bilbo and Gollum pitching riddles back and forth to each other is probably the most masterfully done. The life that Andy Serkis breathes into the mysterious Gollum is both comical and chilling. While the audience laughs at the dual-personality that is so brilliantly portrayed onscreen, the fact that he might turn on Bilbo and try to throttle him at any moment is still an ever-constant threat. Gollum's facial expressions captured by the miracle of technology are delightful, and make the character real and touchable. 

Thus far I have come down hard on what I perceived to be the missteps of The Hobbit, but to be fair, not everything is done poorly. The moment when Bilbo unknowingly acquires The One Ring is given adequate reverence, and the bit of added history did put some perspective on the dwarves and their long-standing bitter history with the elves (which is referenced throughout the trilogy between Gimli and Legolas. If you pay attention to names, you’ll make the connection that Legolas’s father ditched the dwarves in their moment of need, essentially costing them their homeland). The writers here draw attention to the cultural tendency of the dwarves to sing, and weave it in so seamlessly that at no point do their spontaneous tunes seem out of place.

I understand that the tone and times of the Hobbit are not the same as The Lord of the Rings, and I honestly would not take issue with this if the movie had not labored to tie itself to The Lord of the Rings, and present itself as an equal epic. But because the Hobbit took very specific steps to ensure that the audience felt familiar with this Middle Earth, the changes feel out of sync with the previously established world. This presents a conflict in a few ways. The first is that The Hobbit rides the success of The Lord of the Rings, and therefore needed to tie itself to those movies in some way. However, had The Hobbit followed the same tone of The Lord of the Rings, it would have completely betrayed the spirit of the novel, which is starkly different than The Lord of the Rings. In light of all of this, I must conclude that The Hobbit does very well walking a bit of a tricky line, but falls off track a few times. The movie tries to elude to the fact that there is more stirring in the darkness of the world than a simple matter of a dragon’s invasion, but throws off the foreboding tone by presenting characters like Radagast, who seemed that he belonged more in a Narnia movie than Middle Earth.

The result is that the movie is good, and although it doesn’t quite reach the same heights as The Lord of the Rings, there is enough of the story left that The Hobbit may still have some tricks up its sleeves. The movie closes with a long journey still ahead, and the greatest battles not yet begun. Therefore, as The Hobbit has a way to go before its journey is complete, I withhold my judgment of the trilogy until it is. It may yet make a place in movie history.

The Horde of the Ring

While most of you were probably attending your second or third viewing of The Fellowship of the Ring, we were still waiting for it to make to the theater. 

Who were “we”? A small pocket of boarding school students in Kenya. 

Every Friday I would rush to the library to check The Daily Nation and inspect the theater listings. Week after week, nothing of interest occurred beyond the usual fruit thefts, but week after week there appeared a bold little asterisk that said *Coming soon: The Lord of the Rings, Fellowship of the Ring. Week after week, nothing. Yet the thrill of anticipation ran rampant throughout the school.

I had read and adored The Hobbit years before the release of the Lord of the Rings movies inspired a crazed Tolkien-trend among readers. I knew little of the trilogy except that it had to do with Bilbo’s nephew, who as far as I knew, was called Bono. Being that I lived in Africa, there was little or no chance of inspecting the book series for myself, and so I had to rely upon the word of an unenthusiastic college graduate who claimed that he could not get into Fellowship of the Ring as it was so painfully slow. Still, I knew enough about the story in general to identify the movie when I saw something about it by chance on CNN one day. That CNN blip was the first I had ever heard about movies being made from Tolkien’s works, and for the next two years, the news stories built and developed until my anticipation far surpassed even waiting for Star Wars. Magazine clippings and photocopies were soon tacked to my dorm room walls, and I began saving Coke bottles.

At boarding school, the cost of a bottled soda was 30 shillings. Once you had consumed your beverage, you could return the bottle for a refund of 10 shillings. The cost of a movie ticket was 300 shillings. On Saturdays and special event days, my friends and I would scour the rugby field and bleachers for discarded bottles, and stash them in our rooms, saving for the movie ticket, when the movie should finally make its way to our forgotten theater in East Africa. Honestly speaking, I had a decent allowance and was not an extravagant spender, so I hardly needed to collect bottles to come up with the money for the movie ticket, but it added to the thrill of waiting.

And then it happened one Sunday (in February or March). The word spread through the campus quicker than the viral epidemics that we suffered from at least once a year: The Fellowship of the Ring was finally in the theater. Soon, everyone was calling their parents, friends, and anyone they knew with a vehicle and trying to beg, haggle, and bargain their way to the theater. I had connections—a good friend whose parents lived on campus as staff members and were going into town that very day. She found me at the last possible moment and excitedly told me they had a seat in the car and a ticket if I wanted to go. Soon, we were on our way, and standing in line with half the campus. The movie began, my heart leapt, and so began the first step in the journey through the films that would very nearly define my high school years.

I saw The Fellowship of the Ring in the theater three times. It was easily the most stunning movie I had ever seen, and everyone at school would not stop talking about it. Soon enough there was a waiting list at the library for the few copies we had of the trilogy. We did not have Facebook back then, so quotes were posted on desks instead. Every now and then someone would acquire some chalk and post a quote, doodle, or symbol on the outside of the cafeteria. The bottle-hording became a vicious battle of snatching and stashing for everyone that wanted to see the movie, and it was not uncommon to see students carrying trash bags full of bottles down to the student center for the refund. The hype carried us the whole way to the anticipation of The Two Towers.

By this time, a better theater had been built in Nairobi, and movies came much quicker than the previous three month delay. As such, I had the opportunity to see The Two Towers before returning to school for the second term, which began the second the week of January. The hype filled the air again, and no subject was untouched, much to the annoyance of my dorm parent, who had no taste for epic features of any kind, and quickly grew tired of the endless chatter. Although, I did have a rather funny orc impression that made her laugh. This particular imitation involving me bulging my eyes out and straining my mouth as wide as possible and saying “What ‘bout the legs? They don’t need those…” was such a hit with a fellow dorm mate, that she became one of my dearest friends overnight. The following year we roomed together and carried on long into the night talking incessantly about each movie, book, character, scene, costume, everything right down to the musical notes. We listened to the soundtracks during study hall, pasted our walls with pictures, and eagerly awaited the release of The Return of the King.

To say that Return of the King was a bittersweet finale would be a gross understatement. The roommate and I made arrangements to spend a day in town to see it together (though it was our second viewing each), and we sobbed together.  Say what you will, we were unashamed. And when we saw it for a third time, we were hardly less moved by the masterful finale to the epic saga. The analysis and dissection of every possible detail of the movie became a defining feature of my senior year. Sometimes we would listen to the soundtrack during study time and then both stop on an emotional crescendo and exchange knowing looks before sighing heavily and returning to our studies. We were scolded many times for talking when we should have been studying, or talking when we should have been sleeping, or talking when we should have been cleaning, or any number of more productive things, but we never learned. We just learned to be more devious. 

My time at boarding school ended a few short months after The Return of the King ended the trilogy. When the time came for me to depart, I knew I was going back to the land where there were no three month delays on movie releases, and so I gave my roommate and dear friend the One Ring. Well, it was a trinket from my bookmark, but for the hopeless imaginative zealots that we were, it might as well have been the One Ring. I handed off my guide to the Lord of the Rings monsters to my "little brother", whom I sat with many times looking at the various beasts in my book. These I left behind, and took with me sweet sweet memories of late nights with my friend, moments before lunch with my little brother, and stashing soda bottles. It wasn't about the movies and the books; it was about the memories we built because of them. 

And then I moved to the land of midnight releases, and was at the front of the line for The Hobbit. 

Another Bourne...?

"There was never just one"

So reads the tagline of The Bourne Legacy. Logically, it makes sense that there was more than one Bourne-like supersoldier-- that much was hinted at in the movie The Bourne Identity, so it hardly comes as surprise that somewhere along the line another would-be assassin/spy/black operative would rise to cause Treadstone more grief. The events of The Bourne Legacy loosely overlap The Bourne Ultimatum, showing news blips here and there featuring Jason Bourne, the convenient death of the journalist, the pending exposure of the department, and so on. Treadstone is still laboring to cover its tracks, cover its misdeeds, and discredit the voices that would expose them. It is an intense time for the cooperation, and one rogue assassin Jason Bourne is enough to deal with when the training that they gave him is the very thing that is stabbing them in the back.

Enter Aaron Cross.

Aaron Cross is a different kind of soldier. He is the product of a Treadstone sub-affiliate called Operation Outcome. While subjects like Jason Bourne had rigorous physical and psychological training to make them into the optimum human weapons, Aaron Cross and his fellow subjects gain their physical and mental strength from highly advanced drug administrations. Each soldier reports to an officer who supplies them with rotations of pills to keep their minds and bodies sharp and ready for action. That is, until the powers decide to close the project, no loose ends. Soon, Aaron is the last survivor of Operation Outcome and determined to keep it that way. But to stay sharp and stay quick, he needs the drugs.

Herein is where the person of Aaron Cross grabbed my attention. I have to do a lot of comparing to Jason Bourne, because despite his absence in this movie, he is still an important entity to the story (and the movie has his name on it). But part of what made Jason Bourne interesting was how his amnesia affected his psychological defenses, causing him to question and eventually regret that he was made an assassin. Aaron, on the other hand, has all his memories and does not have the same emotional and psychological steeling as Bourne. This is especially clear when Aaron is shown in flashback mode questioning Byers on the ethics of a recently completed mission and the lives it cost. 

Cross is introduced as a self-driven subject, conducting his own training regimen in the snowy wilderness of Alaska. He climbs mountains and fights wolves with no hidden cameras evaluating his performance. His mental and physical strength are enhanced by the experimental drugs that he depends on to keep him in peak condition. Later in the story it is revealed that Cross’s motivation to continue his dosage, is that without the mind-enhancing drug, he is actually a little slow. He was not recruited for his tremendous performance; he was merely a willing citizen. The fact that his pre-drug intellectual state was sub-par by average standards lent credence to why he might be especially driven to stay on schedule with his dosage.

While I enjoyed The Bourne Legacy as a summer action flick, I also acknowledge that Legacy is unlikely to be widely accepted, and not have much re-watch value. The plot is at times so thick I felt that I may need to review all the previous Bourne movies to remind myself who does what with whom under what secret agency and so on. Legacy does little to recap the who’s who of their circle of characters, and seems to depend on its audience being familiar with all previous Bourne installments. 

All in all, The Bourne Legacy was good. Aaron is by no means as complicated a character as Jason Bourne, but he is interesting all the same as a stock character of the genre. I have always wondered why Jason signed up in the first place—with Aaron, it made sense. 

The Ones that Potter Forgot

     It does not take a British film aficionado to recognize that the eight Harry Potter movies are a roll call of some of Britain’s greatest talent. Through the eight movies, the supporting cast has boasted Academy Award winners and BAFTA winners. Numerous famous faces ranged from the veterans of Hollywood’s Golden Age like Richard Harris and Maggie Smith to the modern and trendy newcomers like David Tennant of Dr. Who fame. Even relatively small parts were filled by actors well-known to British cinema, not the least of whom where Ciaran Hinds, Sophie Thompson, Jim Broadbent, David Thewlis, Bill Nighy, and Imelda Staunton.

     While there can certainly be no doubt that the eight Harry Potter movies filled the screen with tasteful doses of seasoned talent, there are a handful of British film stars (not necessarily stars of British origin, but actors who began in British films and TV) I would have liked to have seen make an appearance at some point during the course of the saga. Rather than recast the series unnecessarily, I present some un-portrayed characters from the books and an actor who did not make it into the Potter movies, but could have.

 Mark Strong- Lately Mark Strong has emerged as a more recognizable face to Hollywood, but he would have been perfectly at home in the world of Hogwarts. Strong I believe would have made a superb Death Eater, but I submit Strong as a more thoroughly developed Bloody Baron.





    





Hugh Laurie- His House fame may have overshadowed him a little, but Laurie was a comedian long before he was Dr. House. When I read The Goblet of Fire, I actually imagined Mad-Eye Moody being more Laurie than Gleeson. Gleeson’s interpretation brought energy and even comedy to The Goblet of Fire, therefore for Hugh Laurie, perhaps one of the Azkaban escapees. Drawing from the books, Laurie might have done justice to the masochistic role of Amycus Carrow.





 Richard E. Grant- Grant will forever be Sir Percible Blakeny from the Scarlet Pimpernel for me. His lanky frame, Cheshire-cat grin, and wide eyes would have fit well into various roles of good or evil characters. Grant would have made a grand Weasley relative, an eerie Death Eater, or a quirky Xenophilius Lovegood, but a better fit I believe would have been the entitled and arrogant Marvolo Gaunt. As a less desirable but still unrelenting pure-blood, Grant as Gaunt would have added a new dimension of darkness to Voldemort's history.







Sylvester McCoy- Being delightful and quirky, McCoy seems right for the part of Hufflepuff's resident ghost, the Fat Friar.










Keeley Hawes- If Harry has “his mother’s eyes,” Hawes has the look to be Lily Potter. Furthermore, James and Lily were young when they died, so I would be in favor of youthful looking Potters, which brings me to the part of James Potter…






 Cillian Murphy- Selling the part of James Potter would depend highly on audiences not looking at him as Scarecrow from Batman Begins, but he looks the part of a young James Potter closely enough. Upon first glance he might not resemble Daniel Radcliffe closely, but with a few hair tricks and a Gryffindor scarf, he could work. If not James Potter, Murphy would have been perfect to play young Tom Riddle during his employment for Borgin and Burkes. 








 Rowan Atkinson- Would have made an amusing Professor Binns don’t you think? He could certainly pull off the part of a ghost who did not let death interfere with his teaching.







 Terence Stamp- I don’t care what part he would have played, he would have been wonderful at anything. A Minister for  Magic, a Death Eater, a professor, it doesn’t matter; Stamp just seems to belong somewhere in this saga. Perhaps as Salazar Slytherin himself?

Benedict Cumberbatch- With his mysterious manner and ability to be either warm or edgy, Cumberbatch would have made an emotionally-wrenching Regulus Black. Cumberbatch possesses the presence and regality worthy of the pure-blood Blacks, but is also more than capable of displaying a convincing shift in loyalty. Imagine him giving Kreacher his final orders before succumbing to death by inferi.

Jodhi May- Another very recognizable face from some of BBC’s finest productions, May would have been haunting as Lord Voldemort’s own obsessed, fragile, and defeated mother Merope Gaunt.




 


Stephen Fry- His brilliant work on the Harry Potter audio books land him a place among the actors fortunate enough to be involved with Harry Potter, but were he to appear onscreen, the only place for him would be Peeves. Older, irreverent, mischievous, malicious at times, and horribly defiant, Fry would embody Peeves perfectly. 

Michael Sheen- A small but significant role that would have been well-suited to Sheen would be that of Riddle senior; Voldemort's unfeeling muggle father. Sheen has enough presence to make such a small role memorable, while also lending enough experience to the part to convincingly portray a bewitched and later betrayed muggle. 




Judi Dench - Neville's gran is only mentioned in the movies, but in the books she shows up a few times as Neville's only caretaker. Although she may seem stuffy and hard on Neville, she is no ordinary grandmother, as she proves when two deatheaters are sent to kill her. When it comes to playing stuffy but gutsy older women, no one could play this part with as much humor, conviction, and piety as Dame Judi Dench. The image of the assassins expecting to do away with an old woman and instead meeting the wrath of Judi Dench with a wand is a scene that would be worthy of Potter (and a few laughs no doubt). 

Richard Armitage- As a man who generally portrays dark and ambiguous characters, Armitage is quite mysterious enough to fit into the world of Hogwarts. Armitage has the right dramatic intensity to play Bane, the dangerous and unyielding centaur.









Chris Hemsworth- Technically not a "great British actor" (being neither British, nor very experienced) but humor me, because I promise I have a legitimate reason for mentioning him. The centaur Forenze is described as being blonde and "beautiful", so that the Hogwarts girls go completely crazy over him. Hemsworth has the right athleticism and a good strong voice that really, were he to make it into the Potter universe, a centaur would be the most logical choice.

The Hunger Games

     Sometimes when I want to mix things up a bit, I take a more casual approach rather than trying to sound academic. This time I'm really mixing things up with my review after my recent viewing of The Hunger Games. And once again, I haven't read the books, so let's move on. So you don't misinterpret my thoughts, know that I rather enjoyed it. Whether or not it was worth all the hype is another matter, but it was a good movie. It spends a great deal of time building up to the actual Hunger Games event, and then spends the rest of the time covering the details of that event. The movie seems to be almost equal parts rising action and main action, with a some overlapping teen drama and social commentary.

     As far as the social commentary goes, the story takes a harsh jab at reality TV. Although it's true that so far The Amazing Race, Fear Factor, and Survivor have not had anyone butchered onscreen, the desensitization shown by the citizens of Panem is not as unrealistic as we might like to think. The Hunger Games shows a future world where the citizens of outerlying districts are selected at random to participate in the annual Hunger Games and outlast one another, all for the entertainment of the flamboyant and ridiculously opulent citizens of Capitol. Like reality TV, much of the action is rigged and manipulated by the broadcasters. The original purpose of the games was a reminder of the penalty of rebellion, but over time the Capitol citizens decided they enjoyed it so much that the games continue every year with no real purpose other than savage enjoyment in the carnage and dehumanization of the young people from the outlying districts.

     Observe that there is a slice of teen drama incorporated into this story. Unfortunately, Katniss and Peeta lack convincing chemistry and the immaturity of their relationship clashes with the circumstances in which they are thrown together. In other words, you are in the middle of a fight to the death! This is no time to think about a crush! I'm not against love stories, really. But a logical question here seems to be "what? ... now?!" The pair goes from having a teenage crush to making a suicide pact together. Sorry, but no. And then to find out that Katniss is mostly just playing to the camera and by extension playing Peeta, this brings me to my prediction for the next movie:

     All in all, The Hunger Games is enjoyable. Storywise it is a road less traveled by, at least until that inevitable teen drama kicks in. There are plenty of intense moments that keep the story moving, and the movie does a respectable job of making Panem look familiar enough to be figuratively tangible. Handheld camera was a bold choice for this kind of piece, but it works well as it keeps the action chaotic enough that it stays relatively bloodless while still seeming grisly in its PG-13 kind of way. I would recommend The Hunger Games as a popcorn flick, even if I am a little skeptical about the direction of the story from here.

The Man Who was Batman

This is the third installment of my Dark Knight Rises analyses.

     When Batman Begins debuted, it was clear that Bruce was going to be a different kind of hero. His motivation began as a personal quest to ease his own emotional pain, but those reasons gradually became greater and larger than himself. In The Dark Knight, Bruce was shown to be at the top of his game as Gotham's savior, having met his legendary foe the Joker, and pushing the limits of technology and physical strength further than they had ever been before. Bruce battled with how far he would go before crossing the line into becoming a villain himself, often barely different in his methods and approaches. By the time the film wrapped, he allowed a villain to be hailed a hero, and took the blame for all the man's misdeeds himself. In essence, Bruce chose to become in name what he stood against in his heart. Eight years later, Bruce is weary, physically weaker, heartbroken, and considerably less resolved to be Gotham's hope. Bruce is now a has-been hero, no longer jumping from buildings and leaping from aircraft, but a recluse; shut-up in the confines of his manor with only Alfred for consolation. 

     Batman Begins is a perfect origin story. Bruce is seen as a child, a college student, and finally a man. He grows from one stage to the next and through his experiences determines to become the Bat Man in order to take Gotham back from the corrupt powers that have overrun it. In a city so bad that there is no higher power to appeal to, Bruce dared to stand alone against the tide of evil and corruption, using his billionaire funds to equip himself to be mysterious, powerful, swift, and terrifying to those who stood in his way. Everything from Bruce's martial arts training to his fancy toys were accounted for and explained in Batman Begins. 

     As a sequel, The Dark Knight stands as one of the greatest sequels ever made. Where Rhas Al Ghul challenged Batman's definition of justice, the Joker tested Batman's limits. Bruce was once a young idealist who refused to become an executioner, but how long could he hold to that? Deeper still, what is the true difference between a hero and a villain, and how far can a hero go before he becomes a villain? Even Bruce couldn't answer this one, but he found out the answer before fleeing into darkness for eight years. Now as a worn out, discouraged, and seeming failure of a hero, the question is whether or not Bruce will rise again and come to Gotham's rescue one last time.

    The Dark Knight Rises is first and foremost, a tale on perseverance. Bruce is not what he used to be and even his faithful Alfred declares "You're not Batman anymore!" Bruce knows it. He grapples with whether or not it is time to don the cape again, even though he doubts that Batman even exists anymore. Physically, Batman is no match for Bane, and Bruce is for the first time, struggling financially. But somewhere between all of this, Bruce realizes that not only is he still the most able to save Gotham, he is the only one who can. The question then becomes, will he? The city that demonized him now cries out for his aide, while the only person that he truly cares about is telling him that he can't. Will he lose everything or sacrifice it? And will any of it really make any difference?

     Gotham City is exactly the type of place that seems doomed to continue attracting the world’s most maniacal breeds of Fausts and Mephistopheles for the rest of time, which raises the question as to why Batman/Bruce would go to such great lengths to save it. As previously mentioned, The Dark Knight Rises is a tale on perseverance. It is a story of plodding onwards in the face of truly overwhelming odds with only the tiniest glimmer of hope that any victory is even remotely possible. Bruce lies in a pit with a broken back, watching news reports of Gotham rip itself apart, yet he musters the courage to crawl out and rise to Gotham’s aide. Why? Because it is the right thing to do, and it is the hill he has chosen to die on, figuratively speaking. Gotham will not stay saved forever, but Bruce still rises from his fallen and broken state to give the last that he can before leaving Batman behind.

     When Bruce first became Batman, he knew the workings of a criminal mind and the complexities of the not-so-simple nature of right and wrong, yet he was still something of an idealist. His vision was that his example as a symbol of justice would inspire others to fight back, and that eventually a legion would rise to restore Gotham. With very few allies, it seemed a one-sided battle for many years, and when white knight Harvey Dent turned two-faced, the battle seemed to be losing. Now in the final showdown, the conflict demands that this be the end of Batman. But before Bruce leaves Batman behind forever, he chooses a successor who is everything that Bruce used to be, and more. Gotham will still need saving, but Bruce’s time has passed. So young Detective Blake is chosen to be Gotham’s next savior. Like Bruce, he graduated from the school of hard knocks, but unlike Bruce, he is untainted by it. Blake has a heart of compassion and purity that Bruce no longer has, if he ever did, and Bruce recognizes that it is time to pass the mantle off to someone who is still good, and willing to give as much as Bruce did to the cause.

   Batman Begins was the start of the story, The Dark Knight was the climax for Batman, and The Dark Knight Rises seems to be the climax for Gotham, and the epilogue of the Batman tales. Bruce has been challenged in his notions of justice and his motives for becoming the Bat Man. He has tested his moral and ethical limits and his emotional strength. He has been forced to ask himself how far he can go before it is too far. Now he has learned endurance. The Batman trilogy of movies do not necessarily seek to dictate whether or not Bruce passes these tests, but to posit that rather than doing the best that he could; he did what was necessary.

Snow White and the Huntsman

   This is the year of fairy tales. This trend will probably bleed over into 2013 as well, but as it stands at the moment, Snow White and the Huntsman is the second movie this year based on the classic fable, not counting small-screen attempts. This is going to be moderate in length and not particularly academic in tone, because I really just don't feel like thinking about it too much. So you've been warned: I’m not mincing words here, I’m just going for it and typing as it comes to me.

     First things first so that you can stop reading now if you disagree, Kristen Stewart is simply a dreadful actress. While the role of Snow White has historically not been a demanding one, Stewart seems to do little more than breathe heavily, the entire film. It must also be noted that during these intervals of dramatized inhaling and exhaling, she continually hangs her mouth open, which is apparently her only facial expression. Throughout the film she turns foe to friend by gazing lazily at them and breathing deeply. Most of the movie she looks on the brink of tears, but there is absolutely no development to her character to justify it. As the leading character, she is grossly flat. She has very little depth or personality at all. After she spends the first two thirds of the movie trembling, it seems stupid that when she wakes up after the inevitable apple incident, that she would be ready to ride into battle (which raises another inconsistency, but a flaw in writing rather than acting, so I’ll save it for later).

    The good news is, there are good actors in Snow White and the Huntsman, but it doesn't seem to help much. This is by no means the finest of Charlize Theron, but nor is it her worst. She adds an interesting dimension to her depravity in this retelling of the evil queen by rounding up young women to feed upon, or ravenously tearing into the ravens that surround her and eating out their hearts. There is also a slight insinuation that her relationship with her disgusting brother may be…well, unusual. She does not seem to really care much for him other than his ability to do her dirty work for her sometimes and play to her vanity, so her coldness is thoroughly constant.

    The huntsman is never given a name in the film, so he is referred to throughout simply as “Huntsman.” This might have been an intriguing turn for Chris Hemsworth, but he spends most of the film in a drunken fog. What is most disappointing is that the huntsman had potential to be a very interesting character, and could have been much more developed as the protector or bodyguard. The one little nugget we learn from his past is just enough to make his alliance with Snow White plausible, but not altogether entirely understandable. Not that it matters—he brings a bit to the story, but could have done much more so with a tad more development and maybe a smidgeon more mystery. It does not really matter to me one way or the other whether or not the huntsman is a love interest, but it would have been exciting to wonder just a little bit longer how trustworthy he really is. As a matter of interest, there are plans to make a spinoff movie about the huntsman, which might prove my point.

    Naturally, the best actors to this piece are given the smallest amount of screen time. The troupe of dwarves boasts some very familiar faces, but they feature only slightly in the story, which is unfortunate because the chemistry among them seems that it would be both entertaining and relatable with a little more time given to them. Between Ian McShane, Bob Hoskins, Ray Winstone, Toby Jones, and the rest of the  dwarves, there seems to be a true sense of bickering brotherhood, like a band of rogue has-been knights. Their presence brings a little buoyancy to a mood weighed down with labored line-delivery by everyone else. And sadly, even this merry band can't save this movie.  

    The setting of Snow White and the Huntsman is appropriate to the tone of the story, and the artistic direction of the visuals excellently drive the mood-- dark and dull. When the credits rolled, I was actually waiting to see if Guillermo Del Torro did any sort of consulting on the project, as the creatures and sets seemed to echo the style of Pan’s Labyrinth, which can only be a good thing. And to its credit, the movie doesn’t overuse these touches, but integrates them strategically into the world of the story.  Other than these mystical little features, the movie’s portrayal of Snow White’s world is bleak, wet, and dark, which fits.

    I will admit that this retelling of Snow White is unique, but not in the way that it needed to be. Unfortunately, Snow White falls into a series of traps that run it through with dangling plot trails and clichés. For example, Snow White starts out in the customary manner with her on the run in the haunted woods, but then enters into the completely unnecessary Act Three, involving a “chosen one” twist and the girl miraculously springing battle skills when minutes before she was afraid to even touch a knife. It felt like the finale of Alice in Wonderland all over again. Speaking of unnecessary, the tribe of Amazon-like women might have been an interesting plot point, but once again feels gratuitous due to the lack of development. The whole bit with Snow White being the savior and the one who can break the power of Ravena’s magic is just a little too convenient.

    All in all, Snow White and the Huntsman falls into the category of mediocre at best. The story begins ambitiously, and then gets lazy and takes the easy way out by going the cliché route. I’m not saying that every story needs a love story, but it might have legitimately helped this one. A little rivalry between the huntsman and the prince could have brought some much needed audience-connection to the story. Perhaps a little more of the delightful band of dwarves would have brought a few more characters worth caring about to the forefront. And let's be honest-- the studio didn't want to make a movie about Snow White; they wanted to find somewhere to use Kristen Stewart while her Twilight appeal was still bringing in money from those unfortunate folks who care about that particular series.