I am the target demographic for The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug. I still have a 35-year-old copy of the source
novel that has followed me from move to move.
I loved the Lord of the Rings trilogy,
and I bought the extended editions of all three of those films on DVD. Heck, I even loved the generally
unappreciated first ‘Hobbit’ film, An
Unexpected Journey.
Desolation of Smaug
is different. I fell asleep during the
climax.
By the time the film got our titular hobbit to the
treasure-laden lair of the dragon Smaug, it had taken so many detours that I’d
lost interest. A love triangle featuring
two elves and a dwarf? That idea never
should have escaped the world of slash fiction.
A tedious backstory about a heroic ferryman and his family’s legacy of
dragonfighting? Meh. Gandalf and Radagast investigating the
possible appearance of the villain from The
Lord of the Rings? At least it wasn’t
trade negotiations.
And on and on and on and on.
The Hobbit: The Desolation of
Smaug felt so bloated and meandering that it failed to generate any
propulsive energy. I began the film
caring about our Hobbit’s quest to find Smaug’s mountain, but by the time the
last MacGuffin showed up (some kind of glowing gem that the dwarves want), I’d
lost interest and felt the need to rest my eyes.
All this means that The
Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, failed in its core mission: entertaining
its audience. I didn’t actively hate it,
but I grew so bored I don’t even know whether I’ll queue up its final sequel, The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies. It’ll take one heck of a critical reception
to make me change my mind.
