Big Screen Breakdown: The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

The year has not been kind to my memory of the last Hobbit film. At the time, I found it an enjoyable enough tale, saved from its flaws by some truly stellar performances. Now, when I think about it, all I can remember is the bad stuff. However, since that time, I've become reacquainted with the source material in the form of a rather silly radio drama I listened to while growing up. So how does The Hobbit: The Desolation of the Other Sequel Hook compare to its predecessor?

• I've finally put my finger on what my problem with the tone of these movies has been: They make the silliest parts in the source material deadly serious, but then they add other, completely new silliness to other scenes that never needed them. Compare the Beorn scene in the book (where Gandalf endears the shape-changer to the dwarves by introducing them incrementally during a long-winded story) to the movie (where the dwarf company reaches Beorn's home at the climax of a long chase). They couldn't have made it a little silly?
• As far as adding silliness to scenes where there previously was none? Bombur's barrel armor.
• By the way, it's nice to see Beorn, who nearly always gets cut from Tolkein adaptations, made the transition from book to screen. Couldn't say the same for Tom Bombadil, who always gets cut from Fellowship.
• Can we all just agree that, with only a few exceptions, the dwarves look stupid? Cuz they do.
• I'd like to publicly thank Peter Jackson for ensuring that many of my favorite actors, including Lee Pace and Sylvester McCoy, continue to get work.
• You know, it's funny, but there were a few times when I thought that dragon actually looked like Benedict Cumberbatch. It's too bad they distorted his voice so much in creating Smaug's voice. Cumberbatch probably has the second-best natural dragon voice in the world (after Sean Connery, of course).
• The Hobbit really should just be a comedy, with lots and lots of close ups on Martin Freeman's face. That face is a national treasure. Too bad it's not, you know, my nation's treasure.
• Anybody else think Legolas was far more interesting here than he was in the original trilogy? I mean, he was cool in the earlier films, but here I actually kinda cared about how he felt, which was a novel experience.
• Oh, and that Lady Legolas they added? She's cool. Let's keep her.
• Both big budget sequels that came out this year lack proper finales, but they've got different issues as a result. Catching Fire was good, but if the Mockingjay movies bomb, then I'll still have the first Hunger Games movie (which I quite liked) to watch on its own. Desolation of Whatever was ALSO pretty good, but not enough to redeem the first weak entry in the trilogy. However, if the THIRD movie turns out to be any good, I might have to go back and pick up all three. It's a terribly strange dilemma.
• Verdict: We'll see...

Big Screen Breakdown: Catching Fire

The first Hunger Games movie was my favorite movie the year it came out (yes, I ranked it higher than The Avengers), so the bar was set pretty high for its sequel. Now, I have not read the book, so I don't know exactly how well The Hunger Games: The Sequel Hook compares to its source material. As a predecessor to another, very well-liked movie, though? I can judge the heck out of it.

• Man, where do these movies find such talented actors? Frankly, I don't think they'd be half as good with a less-talented cast. Jennifer Lawrence, Woody Harrelson, and now Philip Seymour Hoffman? Divine.
• Speaking of talented actors, was Josh Hutcherson this good in the last Hunger Games movie? I don't think he was, or maybe he just wasn't given enough to do, but I really liked him in Catching Fire. Like, a lot.
• Anyone else notice Jennifer Lawrence was wearing more makeup this time around? I guess that makes sense, what with her being a victor now or whatever.
• The Hunger Games have always been a metaphor for the schadenfreude inherent in mass media consumption, but they really drove that point home in this movie, with Jena Malone's brilliant portrayal of every foul-mouthed reality TV star, ever. Applause to you.
• You know, after the tributes all got doused with that flesh boiling poison gas, they cleaned up really well. Their skin looked so silky smooth, I think I might want to get some of that gas for my daily ablutions.
• Another thing I really liked was the portrayal of people who won the games through means other than brute strength. Adds a bit more variety to the cast to have some nerds in the pack.
• Is Lenny Kravitz dead? I hope not!
• So apparently the series isn't over yet? There's, like, another movie? Maybe two? Well, that's just GREAT! But couldn't we have at least gotten an ending to this movie first?
• Verdict: High recommended, unless the sequel sucks.

You Say You Want a Resolution?

Well, you know, we all want to change the world.

I'm a notorious New Year's Resolution transgressor, and yet I never stop making the resolutions. This year, I actually did pretty well, especially on my writing project, which lasted until my iPad got stolen in August. For 2014, I've got three things to focus on.

1 - 30 minutes of writing per day. I know, I know, I've done this one before, but I've actually had pretty good success with it in years past. I only fell off the wagon when I got caught up in doing a play, and I've got no plans to do anything theatrical this year.

2 - On a related note, I'd like to do three "character sketches" a week. By that, I mean "written descriptions of people I know/I see on the bus." I really do need to practice my descriptive writing, and I figure this will help. I may post some of them here, just to see if, by chance, people can figure out who I'm describing.

Good thing all my blog readers are completely gorgeous.

3 - And now for something completely different. The last goal I'm actually calling "Clean-a-thing," because I like to name my resolutions, like one would name an ill-fated pet with a tendency to run towards a busy street populated entirely by garbage trucks. This one's simple: clean one thing every day. On a busy day, this means dust a shelf or wipe down a mirror. When I've got more time, though, it means I have to break out the knee pads and sponges.

Over the weekend, I discovered the joy of cleaning while listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," "Stuff You Missed in History Class," and "Welcome to Night Vale" (although "joy" isn't probably the correct emotion for that last one). So, yeah, I'm now accepting recommendations for podcasts, cuz I'mma need a lot of mental stimulation to get me through the hours of cleaning ahead of me.

For the record, I'm also accepting donations towards the "Let's Remodel Braddy's Bathroom Because It's Unconscionably Awful" fund.

Going for a Ride

Here's a secret: the pretty unicorn thing belongs to the dad.

So I found a new trick I can pull with the Procreate app. See, my usual process is to draw and ink the whole thing, then scan it, save it to the iPad, then redraw the whole thing... again. It's a bit time-consuming, and it uses up a lot of pens. Last night, though, I found a way to shorten the process.

First, I sketch everything in pencil as usual. 

Then, I photograph it.

Yeah, I know. Looks like crap. But then I do the usual tracey-colorey thing, and it winds up looking pretty much okay.

Unto You Is Born

Why I'm Still Single 54

Death to Plushies!

You ever watch a movie and see something happen which makes absolutely no sense, contributes nothing to the plot, and then it's never brought up again? There's a term for that, apparently.  It's called a "Big-Lipped Alligator Moment." There's a reason for that name. I'm not going into it. Look it up.

Now, everyone's taste may vary. Some of you guys might like these scenes, but in my mind, a "BLAM" is almost completely unjustifiable.  A non-sequitur sequence usually indicates of poor planning or storytelling on the part of the writer: either they fell short on their run time, or they couldn't find a way to make the music someone worked SO HARD ON fit into the plot and didn't have the heart to cut it. These sequences are sloppy, untidy, and reek of meddling from someone who doesn't share the creative vision that the rest of the writers, directors, composers, and... um... sculptors had.

You know what got me thinking about the "BLAM"? This guy:

For the record,  I hate this guy.

If you haven't seen Frozen: The Road to Broadway yet (no, that's not the actual title, but it works), then you might be under the impression from all the marketing that Olaf the snowman is a major character. If he were, then you can bet your pink-striped knickers that Frozen  wouldn't be sitting at the top of my list of Best Movies of 2013. As is, Olaf's in about a dozen scenes, with maybe 20-30 minutes of screen time. I'd need a stopwatch to make sure, but, if I go see Frozen again, I plan to spend as little time as possible thinking about the snowman and instead focus on trying to find the Rapunzel cameo.

Now, here's my question for those of you who have seen the movie: What happens if you take Olaf out completely? What plot holes would need patching? What narrative elements are left out?

Olaf's the comic relief, but the movie's already populated with a dozen very funny characters ("all men do it"). Olaf himself doesn't have a compelling character; he's completely static. I actually watched the movie again and mentally removed Olaf from every scene he was in. The characters barely acknowledged him (except to occasionally set him up for a punch line) and he made no meaningful contribution to the plot. By my calculation, Olaf's function in the narrative could just as easily be filled by a lock pick and a Hallmark card.

EXCEPT... then there wouldn't be the presumable hundreds of thousands of dollars Disney will make off of merchandise with Olaf's visage on it.

That's it. That's the only thing that changes about Frozen as a whole if Olaf were to be left in the "poor ideas" bin. He is utterly without motivation, development, or personality outside of a few "wacky" characteristics. He's the latest in long line of characters created seemingly just to sell toys and lunch boxes. 

I call these types of characters "plushies." And, if you couldn't tell I %^#*in' hate them.

The "plushy" is a jaded marketing attempt to reach a broader audience when they don't feel the story is strong enough on its own to appeal to more than one demographic category. The plushy is every talking animal sidekick, every snarky creature voiced by whatever prominent comedian happens to be on the pop culture radar. They almost always feel foreign within the context of the film.

Now, sometimes, the plushy works out. Long time readers will know that the bane of my existence - my arch-nemesis, if you will - is Maximus, the horse from Tangled. He defies the internal logic of the film (how in the world does a horse lead the palace guard when it can't talk?!). He defies the external logic of... reality (horse tails can't move like that). And, worst of all, he won't return my phone calls.

AND YET... if you take Maximus out of the film, Tangled needs something in his place. Someone has to chase Flynn Rider. Maybe Russell Crowe could have done it, I don't know. But the point is that Maximus - or some three-dimensional equivalent character - has to be there.

In fact, a friend of mine actually argues that if Maximus were replaced by a less toyetic human counterpart, he would immediately be less interesting. That.. may be true, but I'm not yet ready to concede that point yet.

But that's one of the funny things - Disney's plushy characters are usually significant to the plot in some way. You can't take Sebastian out of The Little Mermaid, or Mushu out of Mulan, or Lumiere out of Beauty and the Beast. Heck, Stitch is arguably one of the greatest characters Disney ever churned out, and he can't NOT be a stuffed toy. 

These two, on the other hand?

COMPLETELY useless.

I'm not so naive as to think that all stories would be better off without a character who would look good sitting in the crane game machine at Denny's, but I think children's entertainment in general has proven that the marketable characters they introduce can be characters first and toys second. It just takes a little bit of extra effort on the part of the writers and editors, but it brings the quality of the story way up. Kids still get their Happy Meal figures, and adults get to not rip their hair out every time Bartok shows up again.

By the way, my friend from a few paragraphs earlier actually helped me to identify the first real "plushies" of modern cinema:

Take 'em out, replace 'em with a PDA, and the plot resolves exactly the same way.