Over the winter break I took my 12yo to see The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.
We both love going to the movies and often enjoy escaping from the rest of the family and heading off to the theatre to see a flick together.
I was hugely annoyed when word got out that Peter Jackson was turning the story into a trilogy.
I mean, LoTR was written in three deliciously thick novels, it was, is, and had to be a trilogy. (And let me just say that the books and movies were all epic and filled me with joy.)
But ‘The Hobbit’ by J.R.R. Tolkien is ONE story in an average sized book – how (and why?) would it be split into three films??
Three films? I raged, well I’m not going to see them!
When The Hobbit started playing in a theatre near me, my disgust at this obvious ploy to squeeze more money out of the movie going public was quickly smothered by my desire to just go see the movie.
As we settled in to our seats with armfuls of popcorn, boxes of candy and drinks large enough to double as fish bowls, I checked the time on my phone and calculated when we’d be done. Part of me whimpered miserably in anticipation of the achy limbs I was sure to experience after sitting in the same place for almost 3.5 hours.
(movie: 2h 50m + trailers: 20m + we got there early to ensure good seats.)
And then the film started and I was transported to The Shire.
The movie has some stuff that is not in the book, but it was really, very good. I wasn’t keen on the rabbits pulling the sled – just a bit too weird – but the rest of the story was well done.
In fact, the only part that I did not like – was that it ended. I could easily have sat there for another hour and watched more.
I might go see it again.