You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
the Desolation of Smaug.
How do you pronounce Smaug anyway? Is it Smog like the air in L.A?
And why is Smog so desolate? Is it because critics are going to shun this celluloid debacle like a candy cane dipped in hepatitis.
Desolation of Smaug is the follow up to the Hobbit, last years, 3 hour, wet your pants debacle.
Well Peter Jackson has done it again.
He has created a movie that makes me wince, makes me angry that I actually forked out my hard earned money to watch it.
When this movie ends, the crowd literally reacted negatively. The screen goes black after 2:40 minutes of non stop visual over load and excessive absurdity and then suddenly, it just goes black.
I thought the film broke.
The lights came on and the fire exits start blinking as if to say; Please leave. Don’t throw cabbage at the screen.
People seemed angry. Nobody clapped. People groaned.
I said out loud to a row of bleary eyed 3-D glasses wearing patrons; “is that it?”
I started booing. I wanted people to join in. Nobody did.
I was a bitch monster heading down the stairs.
“2 hours and forty minutes. For what?,” I say fire breathing from my tongue.
160 minutes of sitting in the dark, my auditory canal destroyed by spiders and monsters and dragons and over bearing music and sweeping visuals for the sake of satisfying the director’s need to ride in a helicopter and then, well then it just ends.
And I mean it ends like a car with a crash dummy hitting a concrete barrier at the Mercedes factory.
Bam.
Thanks for coming everyone. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.
I stand up. I’m woozy. The light of Smog hurts my eyes.
People look groggy, dissatisfied, like a pick pocket has reached into their purses and stole 160 minutes of their lives.
“I hate this movie,” I say aloud.
People look at me and smile.
Are they afraid of me or do they agree with me, but they are so disappointed, so groggy, so ready to get out of the theater, they don’t want to speak.
I turn to my friend.
“I told you after the Hobbit last year that I would never come back to this trilogy of Suck and here I am. You hypnotized me. You got me to come back. I hate you.”
My friend laughs.
“It was terrible. I almost fell asleep.”
He’s right. The desolation of Smog is a long drawn out event that allows me to hate everyone and root for no one.
First of all, I don’t like the main character, if this movie even has a main character, Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins. I don’t understand his motivation or why he takes his damn ring off so much. Leave your magic ring on you pointy eared freak. Then the only way you’ll lose it in a gold pile is if your damn finger is cut off. Stay invisible, for the whole movie. That would have been a better story. The invisible Hobbit who visits women’s showers at YMCA’s all over the Shire. The Hobbit, Rated X. Now that’s an invisible story I would pay to see.
The Desolation of Smog. What a stupid title.
Why name your movie something that you cannot even pronounce.
SMOWUG.
What are you going to see?
Ah, that movie that comes after the Hobbit Movie that sounds like foul air patterns in L.A.
Oh Smog. The rise and fall of exhaust in the L.A. basin?
Yeah that’s the one.
Kiss my ass Peter Jackson you lump of directing, self actualized flesh.
Your movie sounds like sausage and stinks like fish.
This movie is long and it’s hard to root for any single character because there are 50. There are 13 dwarves who all have unpronouncable names who all look the same. So essentially they are one big character with 13 heads, 13 beards, 26 arms and one big lump of who gives a S**t.
There is a human boat scavenger who has kids. Bart or Bard or Bad. His name is never clearly enunciated. Perhaps a copy of the 500 page script should be handed to the audience prior to entering the theater. Regardless, why do I care about him? Because he is human? I finally have a life force like myself, that I might actually root for, except this Smog movie hop scotches around so much, there’s absolutely no time to develop anything.
I’ve seen stories in a Bazooka bubble game wrapper tie a story together better.
Why can’t Peter Jackson do it?
Because there is a battle sequence every 2 minutes. Spiders and dragons and Orcs and it is never ending. And when they aren’t fighting, they are incessentally flying over mountains and lakes and rivers accompanied by big a musical score.
The Wizard Gandolf is a fascinating character, but he is lost. He has one sequence and then he disappears. The question is why? He is a powerful actor who commands screen presence and has powers that are not even well known, and he just rides away for some sudden, unexplainable reason. That leaves the majority of the story to a pornographic Hobbit and his 13 headed legion of doom.
Then there is Smog himself. Smog is a dragon who is so self indulgent, so full of his fire breathing self, he reminds me of a 4 hour Grateful Dead show I was once assaulted by.
Smog the Dragon is such a pretentious lizard, he actually says he is fire and he is death.
The little pornographic Hobbit clings to his rock and says in a melodramatic moment so poignant, my bladder swells with urine, “What have we done?”
And then, on cue, the film simply ends.
It doesn’t even fade to black. The film just breaks.
“What you have done?”
It should be on the movie poster in the lobby.
What you have done is create a mechanism to steal my money. Peter Jackson should be arrested and charged with fraud, forced to wear an orange jump suit and stand on the side of the interstate and pick up trash, like copies of his film.
Smog says he is death. He meant to say that his movie is death.
It certainly is dangerous to your bladder and urethra. This film should come with a doctor’s warning: The desolation of Smog could cause a urinary tract infection.
I’m not saying that Smog couldn’t be a decent film. But the only way it could be saved is if some one bought Peter Jackson a ticket on a long cruise then went at his film with some pruning shears.
I could easily edit an hour out of this film. Every battle sequence is easily 5 minutes too long. 12 battles, minus 5 minutes each, there’s an hour right there.
The talking is often self indulgent and drones on forever in dialects and verbage that is foreign to most audiences ear.
Fix it. Cut it. Move on.
Hey Pete. Tell a story that is watchable, understandable. This is not a book Pete. This is a movie.
I have a bladder that has needs too.
So I promise you this.
Smog or Smaug, or whatever you call part 3.
I won’t be there. I won’t care. I’ll shovel my driveway instead.
Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me.
That should be your marketing campaign.
“Hey we stole your money and lied to you last time, but this time, we promise, it will be so different…”
Whatever Pete.
Put your Smog in your Shire Pipe and smoke that.
Life’s Crazy.