Here, it's a clear explanation of what I meant when I said I felt bludgeoned
by a giant stick. It's from A.O. Scott's review in the New York Times,
"Mr. Jackson has embraced what might be called theme-park-ride cinema, the
default style of commercially anxious, creatively impoverished 3-D
moviemaking. The action sequences are exercises in empty, hectic kineticism,
with very little sense of peril or surprise. Characters go hurtling down
chutes and crumbling mountainsides or else exert themselves in chaotic
battles with masses of roaring, rampaging pixels."
As I noted, this is a popular style of movie-making now, but not with me.
And as I love Tolkien's work with a surpassing love, I have the right to say
that they are very different.
It is certainly possible to love both Tolkien's Hobbit and this movie.
People love many different, unrelated, and even incompatible things
simultaneously. I like the Beatles; Tolkien couldn't abide them. I don't
pretend that they're in any way related.
So fans of Tolkien's Hobbit are perfectly entitled to enjoy this movie. But
if they say that they enjoyed it in the same way they enjoyed the book, or
that they found the two alike in spirit, they will suffer this damning
penalty: I won't believe them.