This review is positively riddled with spoilers, so I would recommend seeing The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug first, before reading this. You’ve been warned.

Upon leaving the theatre on the evening of December 13th, having just seen the second Hobbit movie, I forced myself to hold back the deluge of disappointment. I calculated in my head that this adaptation felt like 20% original Hobbit text, 30% appendices, and 50% total Peter Jackson fabrication. After giving myself the space of two weeks to digest, I’m giving Peter Jackson more credit than I thought he deserved at first. At first, though, I felt this adaptation was a desolation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s original story, because so much was added or changed from the book. I even went so far as to wish that Peter Jackson had kept it at two films, as was his original plan.

In the end, though, I am thankful that he didn’t. In reality, The Desolation of Smaug spans six chapters from the original Hobbit text, exactly the same number of chapters that An Unexpected Journey covers, leaving the last seven chapters for There and Back Again, including the Battle of the Five Armies, which will be undoubtedly spectacular. I’ve thought through the many things that were added to or changed from those six chapters and have tried to justify them in my mind, so that I can see The Desolation of Smaug again without too much disappointment.

What was added? What was changed?

Gandalf (and Radagast) visit the High Fells of Rhudaur and Dol Guldur.

This is fairly easy to justify. Several times during The Hobbit, Galdalf leaves the company. During that story, we’re never exactly told why he leaves or where he goes, but the appendices do explain that—at least, in part. In Appendix B of The Return of the King, which tells the “Tale of Years”, we learn the following from the Year 2941:

Thorin Oakenshield and Galdalf visit Bilbo in the Shire. Bilbo meets Sméagol-Gollum and finds the Ring. The White Council meets; Saruman agrees to an attack on Dol Guldur, since he now wishes to prevent Sauron from searching the River. Sauron having made his plans abandons Dol Guldur. The Battle of the Five Armies in Dale. Death of Thorin II. Bard of Esgaroth slays Smaug. Dáin of the Iron Hills becomes King under the Mountain (Dáin II).

The italicized text is really what’s relevant here. The White Council (Saruman, Galadriel, Gandalf, and Elrond) met during An Unexpected Journey, but an attack on Dol Guldur was not decided upon at that point. Instead, Saruman rejects Radagast’s relic and his fears concerning the Necromancer. So, Gandalf goes in search of more evidence. This “relic”—the Morgul blade—was supposed to have been buried with the Witch King of Angmar within the High Fells of Rhudaur.

Gandalf, therefore, goes there to investigate, during this second movie. Finding the tombs empty, Gandalf then goes to search Dol Guldur, which supposedly has a powerful concealment spell upon it, which he attempts to lift—and succeeds. There, Gandalf faces the Necromancer—Sauron—who is made to look very similar to the “Eye”, which helps to make the connection clearer for the audience that this “Necromancer” and Sauron are, in fact, the same being. Gandalf battles with this Sauron-Necromancer-being and is inevitably trapped at Dol Guldur, since he is no match for Sauron’s growing strength. Thankfully, he sensed that he was walking into a trap and sent Radagast to get Galadriel before he entered.

I have zero qualms with this addition to the story. It is embellished, sure, but it is based in canon. Saruman—the Saruman that we know from The Fellowship of the Ring—does not seem like the kind of person, or rather, wizard, who would simply trust Gandalf, much less Radagast, sight unseen. It makes sense for Saruman to be reticent at first. This provides a context for the rest of this side-story. Gandalf leaves the company at the entrance to Mirkwood to figure out this dilemma.

This actually provides a further context for the upcoming Battle of the Five Armies: the Orcs and Wargs attack after the Elves, Dwarves, and Men begin their battle for the wealth of gold within Erebor. Why? Because the Necromancer (Sauron) has been building an army within Dol Guldur for that very purpose: to launch an attack to lay claim to Erebor.

Tauriel, Legolas, Kili and the strangest love triangle you’ve ever seen.

Tauriel, a guard-elf from Mirkwood, is a figment of Peter Jackson’s imagination. There is no mention of the elf Tauriel in Tolkien’s texts. Why was this character dropped into Middle-Earth out of the blue?

Firstly, Tolkien was famous (or infamous) for writing stories devoid of female characters, or at least strong female characters. If it weren’t for Éowyn—who rode into war despite her uncle’s express wishes to remain at home, who did her part to help save the day by killing the Witch King of Angmar, because she is a woman—I would have thought Tolkien sexist. But then, she is only one character from two books after all, and her “great deeds” didn’t really come into play until the last book of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. In order to, in part, counter this lack of female characters, Peter Jackson fleshed out Arwen’s and Galadriel’s characters much more than they were fleshed out in the books.

But, at least these female characters were there in the first place. In The Hobbit, there were no female characters. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Zero. However, by including the White Council in the first movie, Peter Jackson has an opportunity to include a familiar female character, Galadriel, in that movie. She does not appear in the second movie, though. Instead, this new character, Tauriel, appears, to show that Middle-Earth can be a place for strong female characters, even if it is Peter Jackson’s Middle-Earth, and not J.R.R. Tolkien’s.

But then again, since Tauriel is the only female character in this movie, Peter Jackson decided that there needs to be a romance. It’s interesting that The Lord of the Rings trilogy had many love stories—Aragorn and Arwen, Aragorn and Éowyn, Éowyn and Faramir—but The Hobbit does not. Many of the great epics do have love stories, but this great epic does not. So, Peter Jackson took it upon himself to fabricate one, just as he fabricated this new female character.

In the preview trailers, we were led to believe that this love story would be between Legolas and Tauriel, a romance of which Thranduil, Legolas’s father, does not approve. Plain and simple. Legolas loves Tauriel, she thinks she likes him but can’t, because she comes from a “lower” class of elves, a truth emphasized by Thranduil. However, upon seeing the movie, Thranduil’s conversation with Tauriel seems to make her look for love elsewhere—in a dwarf, Kili. A very unlikely place, indeed! A romance between classes seems much more likely than a romance between races!

As the company of dwarves escapes, she follows Kili, worried about his welfare. As Thranduil closes the gates to his kingdom, Legolas follows Tauriel, worried about her welfare. One pursues another in an unlikely love triangle.

This love between an elf and a dwarf brings up another interesting and potentially touchy point:

Race relations in Middle-Earth are not the same as the race relations on our Earth.

Writers write about what they know. Tolkien, being a white male, developed other white male characters. Differences in race in Middle-Earth are not between Caucasian, Asian, or African, but between elves, dwarves, hobbits, and men. Why? Because there’s no context for Asian or African. Tolkien doesn’t create such a context. He also doesn’t create many female characters because he’s not female. Not that an author has to be a certain gender in order to write that gender well, but in Tolkien’s case, he seems to write best about what he knows best.

Perhaps, though, it would make sense for people who come from the south—Haradwaith, perhaps—to have darker skin? Perhaps it would make sense for some of those people to relocate to Lake-Town in pursuit of a better life?

I don’t mean to sound at all insensitive as I write this, but as Thorin came out into the open and spoke to the Master and the people of Lake-Town—as the camera panned the people—I found the presence of dark-skinned people somewhat jarring. Again, as I mentioned earlier, the context for their existence in Middle-Earth can be explained, but it really did put my pre-conceived notion to rest: the notion that every character living in Middle-Earth is white.

Bombur and the impossibility of surviving under unsurvivable circumstances.

So many times during An Unexpected Journey, the dwarves nearly died, but didn’t. Every time, they come out unscathed, without a scratch. No human could have fallen from such a great height and not died, but then again, perhaps dwarves are made of tougher stuff than humans are. Bombur, during their escape within the barrels, takes out who knows how many orcs by simply barreling around in his barrel. The barrel doesn’t shatter, except in specific places to provide arm- and leg-holes for him. There’s no way that happens under “normal” circumstances. It may be unrealistic at times, but it’s at those times that I (and others in the theatre) laughed the most.

But then, finally, Kili is shot in the leg by an arrow—the first injury that the company sustains. This provides a context for Tauriel to pursue him, out of concern for his welfare, a context for Legolas to follow her, as Legolas seems pretty thirsty for orc-blood, as well as a context for Thorin to leave a third of the dwarf company behind in Lake-Town.

Thorin, Bilbo, and two-thirds of the company engage in an epic battle against Smaug.

Thorin makes decisions for the whole company. As their leader, he should. But, as the tale continues, his decisions appear more and more selfish. Kili is forced to stay behind, because of his injury, despite his desire to go with the company. Fili stays with his brother, seeing the selfishness in Thorin’s eyes as he states that he will not allow Kili to “burden” them. Thorin says the same about “the burglar” (Bilbo) later. Making this change from the book (where the entire company goes rather than some) allows us to see Thorin’s character development even clearer… Despite his revelation at the end of the previous movie—“I have never been so wrong in all my life”—Thorin has returned to his usual selfish self.

The company, minus Fili, Kili, and the other dwarves who stay behind, finally arrive at the door. No thrushes are knocking, but the sun is indeed setting. The sun falls below the horizon. Still no key hole. Did they have the correct day? Or was it the day before Durin’s Day, and they’ve lost count? I was on the edge of my seat, thinking, “What did you do to the story now, Jackson?” Suddenly, the moon comes out, the thrush knocks, and the moonlight shows Bilbo the key hole.

Alright. That’s fair. In the book, “the last light of Durin’s Day” does not specify sunlight or moonlight. However, shouldn’t Durin’s Day start at sunrise and end at sunset? But then again, Durin’s Day does take place at “the first day of the last moon of autumn on the threshold of winter”. Perhaps Jackson is right to interpret “the last light” as moonlight? Either way, Peter did accomplish what he was probably going for here: he kept me on the edge of my seat!

Another change is the dwarves’ epic battle with the dragon towards the end of the movie. It just didn’t happen in the book. Bilbo’s barrel-rider “riddle” clued Smaug in right away that he came from Lake-Town. This caused him to leave and wreak havoc on Lake-Town even before the dwarves have an opportunity to encounter Smaug at all.

How it started, how it ended, and how it bridges from the first movie to the third.

I expected this second movie to start right where the first one left off—“Queer Lodgings”, which comes just after “Out of the Frying-Pan into the Fire”. Instead, the movie starts a few years prior, when Gandalf meets with Thorin at the Prancing Pony in Bree. It was certainly nice to see the Prancing Pony again, and Bree, and yet another Peter Jackson cameo, where he nonchalantly eats a carrot in the bottom left corner of the screen—within the first few seconds of the movie.

Interestingly, this scene brings up an unanswered question that I had forgotten about from the first movie—what really happened to Thrain, Thorin’s father? Thorin made his way to Bree for that reason—he had heard that his father was not only alive, but had been seen wandering in those parts. I’m excited to see what happens with this side-story.

As for the end? I have no proof, so you will have to believe me: I predicted correctly where this movie would end. I knew that this movie would not end with Smaug’s death. I knew that it would end with Chapter 12, “Inside Information”, because seeing Smaug fly towards Lake-Town makes for a much more climactic, cliff-hanging ending than seeing him die.

I was not, however, expecting both Gandalf and Bard to be imprisoned as the movie ended. The third one is going to have to get Gandalf out, so that he can attack Dol Guldur with the others of the White Council, and get Bard out, so that he can kill Smaug, become the new master of Lake-Town, and lead the Men at the Battle of the Five Armies.

Furthermore, the third movie, which is titled There and Back Again, needs to get Bilbo back again, and somehow tie the conclusion of The Hobbit to the beginning of The Lord of the Rings trilogy—how the Necromancer leaves Mirkwood to become Sauron, the Great Eye in the tower of Barad-dûr within Mordor. My only hope is that this transition doesn’t look as tacky as the transition between Revenge of the Sith and A New Hope, because, let’s face it, The Hobbit trilogy feels about as different from The Lord of the Rings trilogy as Star Wars Episodes I-III does from Episodes IV-VI.

What do you think? Is this review simply too long? If you’ve read this far, give yourself a pat on the back and leave a comment—you deserve to let other readers know that you’ve succeeded in reading this entire article!