It was Christmas day, and I was nine years old. I was used to the family tradition of attending movies during the holidays, and I loved the silver screen so much that every ticket felt like a wrapped gift in itself. However, all of the grown-ups and a few of my siblings were going to see some grown-up movie — I missed what they said the title was, but I could have sworn I heard something about planes. I asked if I could go see a different movie while they saw theirs, but they said it was either their decision or an evening home.
As if I had to choose.
It took me all of ten seconds into the film to realize that it wasn’t about planes. Suddenly I was hearing eery whispers and finding myself face to face with the most terrifying goblins I’d ever seen in my life. I had read Tolkien’s The Hobbit before many times, but this ‘continuation’ about some hobbit other than Bilbo that my siblings were raving about had me burying my face into my father’s arm and begging to sit in the lobby for the next two hours. Understandably, he wasn’t wasting his ticket, nor was he letting me wander the theatre alone: so for two hours I watched grown men face perils beyond measure, and I waited in earnest for them to unmake the magic token that was giving them so much trouble.
When the credits rolled, I turned to my family in confusion. “But do they get there? Do they win? When do they destroy the ring? Why did it just end?”
“Oh there are two more movies!” they gushed. I thought I was going to be sick.
When the movie finally came out on VHS (yes, I am that old), my siblings suggested that I watch it again just in case; they were convinced I would like it. I was hesitant… but ten seconds in, I was hooked. It was incredible. This strange tale that sucked me into another world, a world of honor and culture and an ancient sense of belonging to something bigger… the first and greatest adventure I have ever known. When the last of the trilogy came out in 2003, I felt that something in me was left behind in Middle Earth.
Then The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey came out in 2012, and I was there at midnight to greet it. I dove back into the Shire without a hitch. And now, two years later, I find myself having gone there and come back again. Unless The Silmarillion is made into a television series, then this really may have been “The Last Goodbye.” And so, with a heart that is not so much heavy as it is full, I give you my own spoiler-free description of what I have experienced in the past three hours — a fine farewell to a journey that started thirteen years ago.
The Battle of the Five Armies rarely had a dull moment, as it started immediately with Smaug’s attack on Laketown. I was skeptical of a movie that had little to promise other than two battles that were supposed to stretch over two hours; the last few movie franchises that tried to deliver on such a promise found me bored half to death. But somehow, Peter Jackson managed to not only fulfill such a promise… but completed it so well that I hardly realized that it was happening. Only a few scattered moments that feel like video-game advertisements (including a Legolas stunt even more ridiculous than his barrel-hopping in the previous film, if that were possible) dampened the parade.
The story, while strangely paced, was dynamic and was laced with just enough mild humor to keep us smiling throughout the screening. It showed us the peril of growing to love riches over relationships (which is ironic, coming from a movie split into a trilogy so as to increase its earnings). Every major quote and meaningful moment that I’d hoped to see from the book made its way into the screenplay, though each was usually altered a tad. And of course, all of that extra time given to New Line Cinema to display a mere third of the book allowed the plot to spread out. We finally saw the great armies meet one by one, and finally saw the final breaths of some beloved characters whose deaths in the books had been shrouded in mystery until now.
The screenwriters did an incredible job of focusing on more of their characters: Elf and Dwarf and Man alike. We got to see the growth of people like Galadriel and even Bard’s son… but unfortunately, that meant the loss of some time with many other beloved characters. In fact, once our original company of Dwarves joined the battle, we only saw only four of them in the fray during the entire skirmish. The whimsy and adventure of the first two movies had hinged on the diverse group of fourteen that we got to meet: back in the goblin tunnels of the Misty Mountains alone, we got to see every Dwarf throw a punch or wield a blade with mastery. In this installment of the story, the lesser Dwarves — even Balin, master swordsman — were left behind so as to give more screen time to others. Still, for the most part it was screen time well spent. There were only a few arcs (namely those of Legolas and Thranduil) that felt rather forced.
But in the end, those were all minor flaws. Every movie in the Hobbit series and even the Lord of the Rings trilogy have had their flaws, from incongruency with their source material to overuse of computer-generated effects. And yet those flaws aren’t the moments that we remember or cherish in the months and years that follow every film’s release. Our hearts still soar and ache with every step taken through Middle Earth, no matter who makes them. And I hope that in years to come, we will get to set foot in those fair lands once again. In the meantime, however, I do not mourn. These past three years have been three years more of adventure than I ever expected to have. Besides, the world is not in my books or films or drawings… it’s out there.
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