All I wanted was a dragon.
A fire-breathing, gold-hoarding, capricious, greedy, smug, giant talking lizard.
Instead, I got melodramatic fanfiction involving the unfortunate comeback of Orlando Bloom and his sassy lady elf pal, dwarf-on-elf romance, hackneyed backstories added to minor characters (Peter Jackson is incapable of acknowledging the maxim less is more in an capacity whatsoever), really dumb looking named orcs, a total abandonment of any sort of in-scene continuity, an identity-less movie that can’t help by vacillate between goofiness/whimsy and faux-realism/gloom…. not to mention a terrible Sauron tie-in that makes absolutely no sense. Does Gandalf sit around for 30 years afterward waiting for The Lord of the Rings to happen??
But then, finally, mercifully, I got my dragon. And it was glorious. Mostly. I like Martin Freeman but I am not impressed by his Bilbo. The movie also rips away his fresh discovery that Smaug is missing a scale and moves it over into dumb Bard’s new dumb backstory. And this movie has set up the third installment replacing a single arrow slaying the dragon with some kind of super weapon that shoots giant harpoon-sized arrows… yeah, that about sums up it up.
This is a bad movie. While it was entirely predictable that stretching out a single book into three long-ass films would produce disastrous amounts of filler, this doesn’t make it any less disappointing to watch.