The Hobbit
The weight of expectation upon Peter Jackson’s filmic return to Middle Earth was heavier than Michelle McManus with a depression-induced stress-eating disorder. Yet, the inevitable comparisons with LOTR are unfair, The Hobbit being a simpler, more fantastical (and arguably better) novel than its famous younger brother. It’s far lighter and comical, much more traditional childish fantasy. This is made explicit when paralleled alongside LOTR’s ambitiously dramatic narrative. On the screen the differences are even more obvious. For example, one scene in Jackson’s adaptation sees the Goblin King, looking like a cross between a cartoon turkey and Stuart McCall, set up his own death as a gag. It’s hard to imagine Viggo Mortensen making knock knock jokes in the Black Gate finale. I think its dissimilarity with LOTR instigated many of the mixed reviews.
It’s an excellently made film, and both an effective expansion and stand-alone to an extremely popular saga. The casting, especially the phenomenal Martin Freeman, is spot on, the special effects and attention to world detail, staggeringly good, the plot, well-paced, the dialogue, solid if unspectacular. Peter Jackson’s direction is exquisite, squeezing out every drop of humour, tension and wonder possible from each scene.
It’s surprisingly difficult to review. It’s thematically vacuous, but so is the novel, so should Jackson be applauded for a faithful adaptation? Or criticised for lack of filmmaker innovation? I’m unsure.
Personal gripes include the excessive use of slow-motion in set-pieces, the glaring unfunnyness of James Nesbitt, when it inexplicably metamorphoses into an instagrammed Disney musical with ugly people, and the fact that orcs are never once referred to as ‘Glasgow Rangers fans.’
It’s still a great piece of filmmaking, and entertainment, one made even more valuable by the tremendous disappointments of nearly every other sequel, prequel, spin off, or bastard, Inuit son.
Diary of the Dead
In one of my previous mini reviews, I critiqued Zak Snyder’s 2004 remake of the cult-classic Dawn of the Dead. In a stunning move, Snyder masterfully by-passed the anti-consumerist satire of Romero’s work, instead making a gore-porn flick where the only serious question raised is whether or not the girl Phil Dunphy is shagging is under-age or not. The uncertainty still haunts me to this day. It has the political relevance of my pyjama drawer.
Thank God, ladies and gentlemen, for the 2nd coming of George A. Romero. The low budget Diary of the Dead takes aim simultaneously at the frightening influence of new media on everyday life, and man’s inherent curiosity with suffering and horror. The extent of the limited funds is sadly exposed; the extremely small scale both the plot and set locations operate on could potentially serve to emphasise the severe effect a zombie apocalypse has on an individual or group, but the unintentionally farcical performances, and God-awful dialogue, contradict that theory.
While it abandons Dawn of the Dead’s inert socio-political subtext for the chaining-you-to-a-chair-while-a-brooding-voiceover-rams-it-down-your-throat-until-you-pass-out-from-heavy-handed-mind-thuggery school of expression, it remains a profoundly intense 90 minutes. The protagonist’s character development is startlingly good, as he progressively becomes obsessed with recording the end of days... just because it's interesting, it somehow grows on you how relevant and relatable these characters, despite their eccentricities, actually are. It is genuinely thought-provoking stuff, and the ending is fantastically depressing, if a tad contrived.
DotD also adopts a Shakespearean ‘film within a film’ narrative concept. It's original and effective, even so much that when one of the characters continues to film while one of his 2D pals is the replacement of a 4am kebab for a notably hungry zombie it actually seems believable. I would make a joke about it being ‘filmingception’ or something, but sadly I don’t have the wit of a self conscious fourteen year old who watches Pokemon ironically. While the lecturous thematic exposition is off-putting, Diary of the Dead is a poignant, moving, underrated, shitely made dollop of cinema.
However, my favourite Diary of the Dead remains the fans’ forums on Rangers’ Media.
