On the Hobbit and HFR (High Frame Rate)
Haven't used this journal in centuries, but I needed someplace to put this, so here we are ...
I just returned from seeing The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey for the first time. I chose purposefully to see it in 48 frames per second. This is what Peter Jackson recommended and I was curious to see how it turned out. I have read many, many criticisms of the technique and so went in with those in mind.
I have to say I was very intrigued and satisfied with effect of the frame rate. I have a few quibbles with other aspects of the film (length/pacing -- though it wasn't actually too bad for this first part, I'm more concerned with how the pacing of the next two is going to be). But HFR? Honestly, I loved it for a number of reasons, including several specific to The Hobbit/LOTR, as well as a general "this feels like the future of cinema" feeling.
First, let me address the criticisms I've seen of The Hobbit's use of HFR.
1. It looks cheap and amateurish. I've seen it compared to news reporting, video games, soap operas, and the one comparison I actually feel is merited, a BBC stage set period drama.
2. It is not suited to a fantasy film, because it is too realistic.
3. It makes the CGI look crap.
I'll actually address the third point first, because it's the easiest: I totally negate that. The CGI looked amazing to me, worlds better than it did during the LOTR trilogy. The facial expressions of the CGI characters were INCREDIBLE, especially Gollum. (OMG, GOLLUM. He was SO REAL. He looked pretty real in LOTR, but there were always moments when he looked a little gimpy, not quite part of the world he was in. Not so in The Hobbit.) The skin textures & motion capture - all superb. Perhaps people are talking about the CGI environments, but I did not notice anything particularly troubling in regards to those, either.
(I've also seen a related argument that the HFR made makeup and costumes look shoddy. I didn't notice this at all. People are strange.)
In regards to the first point, as Peter Jackson suggested, the first ten minutes for me were very strange -- after that I adapted to it very quickly. Other reviews I have read stated that it took those reviewers closer to an hour to adjust. I suppose it depends on the person, but it was not my experience. After that adjustment period, nearly all the scenes felt quite natural to me -- just exceptionally clear and real. There were only a few brief moments where the HFR called attention to itself, and this was frequently fast moving scenes outdoor in daylight; for example Bilbo running desperately through the Shire to catch up with the dwarves and Gandalf, the morning after the meeting. And I did not find this bothered me. I simply thought it looked interesting. There were a couple of shots during those first ten minutes that felt like I was watching I, Claudius or Poldark (or even Neverwhere). But so what? I liked those shows.
And finally, the "fantasy vs. reality" argument. The thrust of this is that we don't WANT realism in a fantasy film; it ruins it. The loss of the "cinematic sweep", the charming slight blur and glow of 24 fps films, is deadly to a fantasy film, and the viewer is left unsatisfied and unable to buy in to the story, to "escape".
But as I watched the movie I found myself recalling a very specific memory ... it's of being 13 years old, reading the Appendices of Lord of the Rings for the first time. If you have ever read or just glanced through these 50 odd pages that follow the conclusion of LOTR, from which part of the extra material added to The Hobbit is drawn, you'll know there is something very distinct about these appendices: they refer to the events of The Hobbit and LOTR as though they are real.
Tolkien was a scholar of Old English literature and history, and before making his name as writer of fantasy fiction, he lived in the world of manuscripts, lexicons, rare books and archives, footnotes, and most of all, philology, the study of languages. While The Hobbit began life as a simple children's tale, it grew with Lord of the Rings to join his life's passion, a wholy self-created legendary cycle. And so he took the ultimate scholar's guilty pleasure, and gave his fictional work the academic treatment. The events of the LOTR and The Hobbit are not fiction; they are scholarly, translated critical editions and selections from a historical document: The Red Book of Westmarch, the book Bilbo Baggins wrote.
In one of the many examples of this in the Appendices, in a section on translation in Appendix F, he writes, "In presenting the matter of the Red Book, as a history for people of today to read, the whole of the linguistic setting has been translated as far as possible into terms of our own times. Only the languages alien to the Common Speech have been left in their original form; but these appear mainly in the names of persons and places." He goes on, in great detail, to discuss the translation methods used; how he tried to accurately replicate the dictions and dialects of the individuals in the text. He reveals to us the shocking truth that the names of the characters and places presented to us in the books are actually translations and modifications of the "real" names in the Red Book, at least largely in regards to Hobbits. "The Shire" is actually the Sûza. Meriadoc Brandybuck's given name was Kalimac. Most shocking to me as a kid was the revelation that Samwise Gamgee, my favorite character, was in actual fact named Banazîr Galbasi or Galpsi, which Tolkien explains is a place-related surname, which can be translated as "game-wich" (while his fist name means "halfwit" or "simple"; poor Sam!). Also of note is that masculine Hobbit names ended with "a", while feminine names ended with "o" or "e". Thus it's actually Froda and Bilba Baggins, thank you very much.
Needless to say, this blew my mind. A chill literally spread over me while I read this; I felt like I was uncovering a distant but very real past. I'm not going to deny I was an impressionable and highly romantic kid, but there you have it. By treating this fantasy work as though it were real, Tolkien made it so, if only for a moment, for me.
In a way, "The Hobbit"'s unusual frame rate did the same for me. I felt that chill once or twice, though maybe not as full-heartedly as I did 15 years ago. A lot has changed since then, after all, and in the interim I spent three years studying real ancient histories and languages, and then switched over to real ancient books and documents. But it felt to me like 48 fps gave The Hobbit, in a way, a degree of respect and dignity; an authenticity. Why does something need to be unreal to escape into it for a few hours (or more?). Why do we need our fantasy to be shrouded in mist to believe in it a bit? Sometimes it's remarkably thrilling to let it spill over into the real world, even by doing something so simple as increasing the frames per second, or writing an excessively footnoted appendix.
I'll close off with some quotes from Tolkien's lovely essay, "On Fairy-Stories", which touches lightly on this topic, or something like it. (You'll notice I've cut out the Jesusy bits. They are actually a central part to understanding the last few quotes, or at least to Tolkien they were, but you can get the picture without them.)
It is at any rate essential to a genuine fairy-story, as distinct from the employment of this form for lesser or debased purposes, that it should be presented as “true.” The meaning of “true” in this connexion I will consider in a moment. But since the fairy-story deals with “marvels,” it cannot tolerate any frame or machinery suggesting that the whole story in which they occur is a figment or illusion [...]
Probably every writer making a secondary world, a fantasy, every sub-creator, wishes in some measure to be a real maker, or hopes that he is drawing on reality: hopes that the peculiar quality of this secondary world (if not all the details) are derived from Reality, or are flowing into it. If he indeed achieves a quality that can fairly be described by the dictionary definition: “inner consistency of reality,” it is difficult to conceive how this can be, if the work does not in some way partake of reality. The peculiar quality of the ”joy” in successful Fantasy can thus be explained as a sudden glimpse of the underlying reality or truth. It is not only a “consolation” for the sorrow of this world, but a satisfaction, and an answer to that question, “Is it true?” The answer to this question that I gave at first was (quite rightly): “If you have built your little world well, yes: it is true in that world.” That is enough for the artist (or the artist part of the artist). But in the “eucatastrophe” we see in a brief vision that the answer may be greater-it may be a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world. [...]
It is not difficult to imagine the peculiar excitement and joy that one would feel, if any specially beautiful fairy-story were found to be “primarily” true, its narrative to be history, without thereby necessarily losing the mythical or allegorical significance that it had possessed. It is not difficult, for one is not called upon to try and conceive anything of a quality unknown. The joy would have exactly the same quality, if not the same degree, as the joy which the “turn” in a fairy-story gives: such joy has the very taste of primary truth. (Otherwise its name would not be joy.) [...] Legend and History have met and fused.
I just returned from seeing The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey for the first time. I chose purposefully to see it in 48 frames per second. This is what Peter Jackson recommended and I was curious to see how it turned out. I have read many, many criticisms of the technique and so went in with those in mind.
I have to say I was very intrigued and satisfied with effect of the frame rate. I have a few quibbles with other aspects of the film (length/pacing -- though it wasn't actually too bad for this first part, I'm more concerned with how the pacing of the next two is going to be). But HFR? Honestly, I loved it for a number of reasons, including several specific to The Hobbit/LOTR, as well as a general "this feels like the future of cinema" feeling.
First, let me address the criticisms I've seen of The Hobbit's use of HFR.
1. It looks cheap and amateurish. I've seen it compared to news reporting, video games, soap operas, and the one comparison I actually feel is merited, a BBC stage set period drama.
2. It is not suited to a fantasy film, because it is too realistic.
3. It makes the CGI look crap.
I'll actually address the third point first, because it's the easiest: I totally negate that. The CGI looked amazing to me, worlds better than it did during the LOTR trilogy. The facial expressions of the CGI characters were INCREDIBLE, especially Gollum. (OMG, GOLLUM. He was SO REAL. He looked pretty real in LOTR, but there were always moments when he looked a little gimpy, not quite part of the world he was in. Not so in The Hobbit.) The skin textures & motion capture - all superb. Perhaps people are talking about the CGI environments, but I did not notice anything particularly troubling in regards to those, either.
(I've also seen a related argument that the HFR made makeup and costumes look shoddy. I didn't notice this at all. People are strange.)
In regards to the first point, as Peter Jackson suggested, the first ten minutes for me were very strange -- after that I adapted to it very quickly. Other reviews I have read stated that it took those reviewers closer to an hour to adjust. I suppose it depends on the person, but it was not my experience. After that adjustment period, nearly all the scenes felt quite natural to me -- just exceptionally clear and real. There were only a few brief moments where the HFR called attention to itself, and this was frequently fast moving scenes outdoor in daylight; for example Bilbo running desperately through the Shire to catch up with the dwarves and Gandalf, the morning after the meeting. And I did not find this bothered me. I simply thought it looked interesting. There were a couple of shots during those first ten minutes that felt like I was watching I, Claudius or Poldark (or even Neverwhere). But so what? I liked those shows.
And finally, the "fantasy vs. reality" argument. The thrust of this is that we don't WANT realism in a fantasy film; it ruins it. The loss of the "cinematic sweep", the charming slight blur and glow of 24 fps films, is deadly to a fantasy film, and the viewer is left unsatisfied and unable to buy in to the story, to "escape".
But as I watched the movie I found myself recalling a very specific memory ... it's of being 13 years old, reading the Appendices of Lord of the Rings for the first time. If you have ever read or just glanced through these 50 odd pages that follow the conclusion of LOTR, from which part of the extra material added to The Hobbit is drawn, you'll know there is something very distinct about these appendices: they refer to the events of The Hobbit and LOTR as though they are real.
Tolkien was a scholar of Old English literature and history, and before making his name as writer of fantasy fiction, he lived in the world of manuscripts, lexicons, rare books and archives, footnotes, and most of all, philology, the study of languages. While The Hobbit began life as a simple children's tale, it grew with Lord of the Rings to join his life's passion, a wholy self-created legendary cycle. And so he took the ultimate scholar's guilty pleasure, and gave his fictional work the academic treatment. The events of the LOTR and The Hobbit are not fiction; they are scholarly, translated critical editions and selections from a historical document: The Red Book of Westmarch, the book Bilbo Baggins wrote.
In one of the many examples of this in the Appendices, in a section on translation in Appendix F, he writes, "In presenting the matter of the Red Book, as a history for people of today to read, the whole of the linguistic setting has been translated as far as possible into terms of our own times. Only the languages alien to the Common Speech have been left in their original form; but these appear mainly in the names of persons and places." He goes on, in great detail, to discuss the translation methods used; how he tried to accurately replicate the dictions and dialects of the individuals in the text. He reveals to us the shocking truth that the names of the characters and places presented to us in the books are actually translations and modifications of the "real" names in the Red Book, at least largely in regards to Hobbits. "The Shire" is actually the Sûza. Meriadoc Brandybuck's given name was Kalimac. Most shocking to me as a kid was the revelation that Samwise Gamgee, my favorite character, was in actual fact named Banazîr Galbasi or Galpsi, which Tolkien explains is a place-related surname, which can be translated as "game-wich" (while his fist name means "halfwit" or "simple"; poor Sam!). Also of note is that masculine Hobbit names ended with "a", while feminine names ended with "o" or "e". Thus it's actually Froda and Bilba Baggins, thank you very much.
Needless to say, this blew my mind. A chill literally spread over me while I read this; I felt like I was uncovering a distant but very real past. I'm not going to deny I was an impressionable and highly romantic kid, but there you have it. By treating this fantasy work as though it were real, Tolkien made it so, if only for a moment, for me.
In a way, "The Hobbit"'s unusual frame rate did the same for me. I felt that chill once or twice, though maybe not as full-heartedly as I did 15 years ago. A lot has changed since then, after all, and in the interim I spent three years studying real ancient histories and languages, and then switched over to real ancient books and documents. But it felt to me like 48 fps gave The Hobbit, in a way, a degree of respect and dignity; an authenticity. Why does something need to be unreal to escape into it for a few hours (or more?). Why do we need our fantasy to be shrouded in mist to believe in it a bit? Sometimes it's remarkably thrilling to let it spill over into the real world, even by doing something so simple as increasing the frames per second, or writing an excessively footnoted appendix.
I'll close off with some quotes from Tolkien's lovely essay, "On Fairy-Stories", which touches lightly on this topic, or something like it. (You'll notice I've cut out the Jesusy bits. They are actually a central part to understanding the last few quotes, or at least to Tolkien they were, but you can get the picture without them.)
It is at any rate essential to a genuine fairy-story, as distinct from the employment of this form for lesser or debased purposes, that it should be presented as “true.” The meaning of “true” in this connexion I will consider in a moment. But since the fairy-story deals with “marvels,” it cannot tolerate any frame or machinery suggesting that the whole story in which they occur is a figment or illusion [...]
Probably every writer making a secondary world, a fantasy, every sub-creator, wishes in some measure to be a real maker, or hopes that he is drawing on reality: hopes that the peculiar quality of this secondary world (if not all the details) are derived from Reality, or are flowing into it. If he indeed achieves a quality that can fairly be described by the dictionary definition: “inner consistency of reality,” it is difficult to conceive how this can be, if the work does not in some way partake of reality. The peculiar quality of the ”joy” in successful Fantasy can thus be explained as a sudden glimpse of the underlying reality or truth. It is not only a “consolation” for the sorrow of this world, but a satisfaction, and an answer to that question, “Is it true?” The answer to this question that I gave at first was (quite rightly): “If you have built your little world well, yes: it is true in that world.” That is enough for the artist (or the artist part of the artist). But in the “eucatastrophe” we see in a brief vision that the answer may be greater-it may be a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world. [...]
It is not difficult to imagine the peculiar excitement and joy that one would feel, if any specially beautiful fairy-story were found to be “primarily” true, its narrative to be history, without thereby necessarily losing the mythical or allegorical significance that it had possessed. It is not difficult, for one is not called upon to try and conceive anything of a quality unknown. The joy would have exactly the same quality, if not the same degree, as the joy which the “turn” in a fairy-story gives: such joy has the very taste of primary truth. (Otherwise its name would not be joy.) [...] Legend and History have met and fused.