Thursday, December 27, 2012

Help us, Peter Jackson, you're our only hope

I woke up this morning grasping and screaming, the echo of my nightmare still fresh. Every blink sparked an echo of that last terrifying image - Peter Jackson's face morphing into the visage of a cackling George Lucas.

I have a theory. I don't know how or why, but I believe the creator of Star Wars and the director of the Lord of the Rings trilogy are linked in some terrible, cosmic way.

In many ways they are mirror images of each other. George Lucas rose from a little-known studio film director into the most powerful independent filmmaker in the world. Peter Jackson rose from a little-known indy filmmaker into one of the most powerful and well paid studio directors in Hollywood.

George Lucas went from thin to obese...
 

while Peter Jackson went from obese to thin.



Most of all, both men were key driving forces between the two most beloved trilogies of films ever made. And now I worry they're taking their symbiotic destiny to its final, tragic conclusion.

After inspiring the dreams of a generation of children, Lucas went on to systematically destroy those dreams with a prequel trilogy so terrible, so sacrilegious, that people dare not reference them around certain people I know or, for that matter, me.

Jackson seemed to duck that fate when he chose to adapt The Hobbit, the prequel to his own beloved trilogy. It's The freaking Hobbit. It's one of the most fun and riveting children's stories ever written. It's got a wizard, dwarves, big battles, a fantastic journey, and a dragon. A dragon. How do you screw that up?

This is how you screw that up. Late in July Jackson announced The Hobbit would be split into three films rather than the planned two. So whereas the Lord of the Rings took three movies to cover over 1,400 pages of J.R.R. Tolkien's writing, The Hobbit will take three films to cover 272 pages.

And keep in mind this is Peter Jackson, who believes an angel loses its wings if he ever makes a movie under three hours long.

Here is the ultimate horror of the mysterious hex these two filmmakers have been placed under. Lucas killed Star Wars after gaining so much power no one could challenge some of his questionable decisions. And by some I mean all. All of his decisions were just awful.

I mean, just picking one at random, having Padme die of a broken heart? How did no one call him out on that? Goddammit, George Lucas.

Anyway, Jackson once again appears to be a twisted mirror image of our friend George. When a studio attempted a blatant cash grab to shoe-horn in another movie, Jackson was our only hope to stop them. Instead he took the money and went over to the dark side.

Unless this bizarre curse is broken - a sacrificial pyre of Jar Jar Binks merchandise? - I fear we are in for another three movies of pain and disappointment.

Then again, what the hell do I know? I ate a lot of stuffing before bed last night and I haven't even seen the first Hobbit movie yet. But you heard it here first if in 2014 we somehow find ourselves arguing over whether Bilbo shot first.

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