Barreling Down the Hobbit River

How many people can say they went swimming where the dwarves and Bilbo took their wild barrel ride in The Hobbit film? Well, actually, a lot of people if they live in or visit New Zealand. I imagine, however, that many of them do not know that they have been swimming where Peter Jackson chose to film the famous scene.

One of the most bizarre things I encountered upon arriving in New Zealand was that Kiwis (the people, not the birds) do not go absolutely mental for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit like we Americans do. It has gotten ridiculous to points, like the struggle it took to figure out how to get to the Weta Cave, where many of the miniatures and costumes were made for the movies. I mean... the Weta Cave is MORE famous on a completely different continent than on its own! That's not normal.

So I had gotten used to this aspect of a lack of interest in Lord of the Rings and Hobbit stuff when I arrived at the Pelorus Bridge. I wasn't surprised at all that there wasn't even a wee blurb informing visitors that the famous barrel scene from The Hobbit was filmed there. However, we asked the attendant at the camp ground about it, saying "which part of the river is the bit from Lord of the Rings?" A look of disappoval overcame her face. "Um, NONE of the Lord of the Rings films were filmed here" (long, dramatic pause) "The Hobbit was." I wasn't about to let her Negative Nancy attitude get to me. We hiked down to the bridge and took some photos, and later even went swimming in the gloriously clear and refreshing water. It turns out that the Pelorus Bridge features lovely rocks perfect for jumping off of into the river for a swim.

Yes. Pelorus is a lovely place for a swim and a jump, and you feel cool swimming in the same water down which a bunch of famous (and not-so-famous) actors barreled. There couldn't possibly be anything wrong with such a glorious place, right?

Wrong. Cue story about sandflies, New Zealand's best kept secret. For a reason.
I would almost argue that these nasty little insects and the bites they cause are worse than mosquitoes. They are these teeny little black flying bugs that land on you and bite you ALL over, mercilessly. Then the bites leas to itchy bumps, much like those of mosquitoes. The "interesting" thing was that they seemed to stay away from the New Zealanders and only attacked us foreigners. I guess they have a palate for foreign food.

More about the Pelorus adventure later! I'm off to go scratch my sandfly bites.

THE ENEMY!

Visiting Bilbo

As a self-proclaimed crazed, lunatic-level Lord of the Rings fan, I am in Heaven spending time in New Zealand, Middle Earth in the figurative flesh. Of course, a large part of my "to-do" list while here includes seeing sights from the films. Doing so has not been easy, as Peter Jackson chose to film all over both the North and South Islands. So, Lord of the Rings and Hobbit fans must prioritize when visiting the country or be willing to empty their bank accounts. Want to visit The Shire as well as Fangorn Forest? Sorry, you're going to have to choose. The Shire is on the North Island near a small town called Matamata, and Fangorn Forest is at the bottom of the South Island in Fiordland.

The lover of Hobbits that I am, I personally fancied a visit to their wee homes and went to possibly crazy lengths to get there. We flew into Christchurch, on the South Island, and then quickly flew up to Auckland to spend a day, and what a day it was, venturing into Hobbiton.

We arose just brimming with excitement to begin our long journey to Matamata, where we would begin our tour of Hobbiton. The flights, the long bus rides, and the sheer effort put into getting there all became worth it the second we laid our eyes on the green, rolling hills of the Shire featured in Peter Jackson's films.

It even made me forget about a charming man with whom we had shared a large portion of the bus ride and spent that time telling everyone about his alcoholism problem that he is trying to overcome. It even made me forget about the snooty woman on the tour who pronounced to her friend that she had only seen "one of those Hobbit movies and found it QUITE boring." Nope, never would I let it get me down!

Hobbiton is nestled in a still-working family farm about a 15 minute drive from Matamata. It was as green as it was in the films and is all year-round. Gotta keep it nice and green for the tourists after all. Hobbiton is kept just as it looks in the films; beautifully green, vegetables in the garden, and trees growing all around. It was nothing short of magical standing by the party tree and being in the place where so much wonder was created that influenced my life so greatly.

We learned a lot of fun facts, like that one of the trees in the scenes is completely fake.

We got to take a walk around the set, and even saw Bilbo's house. Unfortunately, he was off on another adventure. We concluded the tour with drinks at The Green Dragon.

Specific Nostalgia

As I depart my dear, darling students (well, most of them were dear darlings. Some were mischievous monsters) and beloved teachers and friends, I feel emotionally drained. The last two weeks I have spent in a whirlwind of rapid goodbyes and hopes to meet again in the future as I parted from those who have earned spots in my heart.

I have learned so much from my students and Japanese friends. If at any moment, which there have been some, I thought “man, my time here was not worthwhile,” all I had to do was look at the stack of letters written to me by my students thanking me for teaching them. Some students simply said they enjoyed my lessons and my singing, and others expressed their deepest gratitude and assured me that they would never forget me. The latter letters brought tears to my eyes almost every time.

Of course, it will be sad. Yet, I also feel a bit relieved as working as a teacher was NOT easy. Part of me feels like Frodo when he’s talking to Sam at the end of The Lord of the Rings and says “it’s gone, it’s done.” Okay, okay. Perhaps it is a bit hyperbolic to compare the end of a teaching job to throwing a cursed ring into the fires of Mordor, but I often have a flare for the dramatic, in case you haven’t noticed.

On my last couple of days here, I noticed that I started feeling nostalgic about far too specific of things. Saying to myself “wow, this is the last time I will ever walk to school,” or “I can’t believe this will be my last meal in the Indian restaurant where I spent many a night during my time in Japan,” is a completely normal thing to do in my emotional situation. However, all of a sudden, I realized that I began having these “wow, this is my last time” thoughts about even tiny details. While I was at the gym, I thought, “wow, this is the last time I will ever use this exact workout machine here.” Instead of the more general idea that it would be my last time in the gym.

I made myself chuckle at thinking of just HOW specific I could get with it. “Aw, sad, this is the last time I will be standing in line waiting to buy hand warmers at the random Japanese drug store near the sushi restaurant at exactly 8:16 at night, so sad!” Or, “I just might cry, it’s my last time biking in the cold when one of my headphones fell out of my ear because I hit the bump on the sidewalk at the wrong angle right next to the Pizza Hut, aww man!” Or finally, “here come the tears… this is my last time seeing the man who sometimes walks his Chihuahua outside of my apartment and always stops right under that tree so he can blow his nose and his dog can pee… I’m so emotional!”

Okay, okay. Maybe my nostalgia hasn't gotten to just such a specific point just yet. But as my time in Ageo ticks down to hours instead of days, I may find my mind going there.  

Leaving Ageo also fills me with excitement for the next part of my journey. I can’t wait to spend some time in Tokyo touring around and doing some things that were on my list of “must-do” things in Japan before taking off for Thailand. Tea ceremonies, Disneyland, and the Tokyo Skytree are calling, and who am I to ignore the call of adventure? (What a weird English saying, “who am I to…” Like, how do you respond to that?).

Converted to a Crier

So, generally, you are either a crier or you’re not. I don't mean the town criers of old, pronouncing breaking news in raised voices for all to hear. I mean people who bawl at the end of tearjerker movies and touching romantic novels. I mean people who behold a shockingly beautiful sunset, a horizon laced with vibrant reds, purples and oranges and have tears instantly well up behind their eyes.

I always put myself in the category of “occasional crier.” Anytime I see an installment of the Lord of the Rings film series, the optical dam breaks and streams run down my cheeks. I couldn't help but get teary-eyed during Bambi. How can people hunt after seeing that?? Yet I sometimes I can watch a movie or read a book intended to be tragic and sad and not flinch.

Not Bambi's Mom!!

I realized this week the degree to which leaving Japan will push me into the full-fledged “bawler” category. I thought I could be strong and bolster up iron-clad defenses to not cry when leaving the school here. Yet, what was I thinking? This school is ingrained in my life now. It is a memory that will always be there in my mind. So perhaps it is only right that I cry.

I didn't predict the frequency with which my tears would flow, however. The other day, a student gave me a letter saying I am the best teacher EVER. Today I got a going away gift from some parents at school. I had lunch for the last time with a class and they gave me a parting present. I had to think of the funniest SNL skit possible to keep from having a humiliating emotional breakdown in the teachers’ room.

This has all been in the past two days, and I still have two more weeks left. I can’t imagine what my last day will be like. Emotionally trying, that’s for sure. 

Coincidentally, I sang this One Direction song "Moments" in class today

The Third Hobbit and the End of an Era

I am about to wax emotional in this post about The Hobbit, The Battle of the Five Armies. So, be prepared with your Lactaid so you can handle all of the cheesiness.

I realised as I entered the theatre on opening day that it signified the end of an era. It would be the last Lord of the Rings or Hobbit movie premiere that I would ever attend. This made me feel even more grateful to be there. 

I remember distinctly my first experience seeing a film about the wonderful world of Tolkien’s Middle Earth. I was only 11 at the time, and had not been introduced to the books yet. I knew nothing of Orcs or Hobbits, and I had never heard of Gandalf the Grey. My world was about to be turned upside down.

Pick me, pick me!

One day in Chicago, my father suggested we see The Fellowship of the Ring. When my young self discovered the PG-13 rating, I became afraid. At that time, just about any movie monster could potentially give me nightmares for weeks at a time. Actually, not much has changed as far as that goes.

However, my father insisted that it was nothing I couldn't handle, so I agreed to go, though with some reluctance. The instant I beheld Tolkien’s magical world and became acquainted with its inhabitants, I never wanted to be anywhere else.

For every subsequent film, I was there on opening day, sometimes dressed like a creature from Tolkien’s wonderful world. I read the books from cover to cover and loved every second I spent traveling through Middle Earth with all of its inhabitants. I became obsessed to say the least with the films, memorising every line and seeing them many times in theatres.

Peter Jackson has quite the talent for making me cry. No matter how many times I watch The Fellowship of the Ring, I always tear up at the end when Boromir gives his last to save Merry and Pippin. Emotions well up inside me when Sam gives his speech about the fight between good over evil. When Aragorn gives his speech to motivate the troops in the second film, I want to burst through the screen and fight Sauron’s minions myself.

Hold on, let me just get my tissues...

In the last instalment of The Hobbit trilogy, I felt tears welling up behind my eyes at least three separate times. Honestly, it wasn't my favourite of the six Peter Jackson films, but it succeeded in captivating my attention for the entire running time. It was appealing visually, it was emotional, had plenty of action (and of course, some over the top battles featuring Legolas doing badass elf things), and a perfect ending. Martin Freeman was perfect as Bilbo, as usual. 

The songs in the credits of Jackson's films are generally quite impressive, but unfortunately Ed Sheeran, the best singer in the entire world, already sang for the last one so I knew that nothing could top it. I was right of course, but I enjoyed hearing Billy Boyd's (the actor who played Pippin) song nonetheless.

The Japanese teacher who accompanied me to my final Lord of the Rings premiere summarised the film better than I ever could. He said “to me, it is about love, friendship and fight for good.” Well said, sir, well said. I will hold these messages in my heart.

And so, as Gandalf sings, "the road goes ever on and on, back to the door where it began." 

Shelob

There are a lot of unpleasant things one can wake up to in the morning. You can wake up to find that you're out of coffee. You can wake up to your least favorite form of weather dominating the outside world. Or, in my case this morning, you can wake up to find a golden silk orb spider the size of your palm dangling from your ceiling. Such a pleasant name for such a horrible creature. This experience has taught me that there is a progression of emotions that come with such a grotesque discovery. The first emotion? Sheer, undiluted terror. Panic spread throughout my being, and I honestly thought I was going to cry. After the panic was hopelessness. I felt unable to leave my loft, and honestly considered letting the spider take over my apartment.

Next came a little fleeting moment of bravery. It's just a spider, I decided, I could take him out with a swift whack of my floor duster (like a Swiffer. I don't own a broom big enough to take down the intimidating arachnid). That feeling didn't last long, as I approached my formidable opponent and it began to seem larger and larger. Then I started my scheming, trying to concoct a plan to destroy my enemy via bug spray or throwing a large object. Of course, with the latter, I could miss entirely and cause an angry spider to fall on my head. Not ideal. 

After the brief feeling of bravery, acceptance overcame me. I mean, honestly, the spider wasn't bothering me. This particular variety just hangs out in one place basically all of the time. So, I decided to just deal with having a new roommate. I named her Shelob, and she is a pretty good roommate. She only did creepy spider things once while I was out on a run and immediately stopped when I returned. She is a very stay-in-her-corner kind of gal. We are currently working out rent negotiations. It will be prorated, of course, because I arranged to have her killed in less than an hour. Should've picked a different lair, Shelob, should've picked a different lair.... 

UPDATE: Shelob lived! She is now outside, enjoying the world!

Run from the Fire, Bilbo!

What a wonderful world J.R.R. Tolkein concocted for all of us to enjoy. L. Frank Baum's lions, tigers and bears don't even compare to Tolkein's hobbits, elves and orcs. Whether it be via the pages of The Hobbit or the his other literary works or reflected on the silver screen thanks to the imagination of Peter Jackson and everyone else contributing to the films, his creations have already enriched my life immensely. I will never forget when I first laid eyes on an orc on the big screen in Chicago, against my will, twelve years ago. I am so glad I did.

I'm not sure how to sort all my jumbled thoughts about the second installment of the three Hobbit films. Starting with Bilbo's entourage, the dwarves journeying to The Lonely Mountain, feels appropriate. I wish that Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the vertically-challenged bunch, were a more likable little guy- his cocky attitude paired with his tiny stature make it difficult to take him seriously. My reaction when things go wrong for him isn't to feel pity, but rather to point and laugh in his face. The other dwarves make up for this, however, but I can't help marveling at the lack of consistency among their appearances. It seems like Jackson stole a page from Walt Disney's notes when he made Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Some of the dwarves look completely cartoonish with bulbous noses and hairdos that would be more appropriate in Who-Ville whereas others look completely normal save their short statures (example, the sexy Fili). The dwarves are undoubtedly a lot of fun to adventure with, even if it is from the comfort of a movie theater seat (though we all know how "comfortable" those really are now-a-days...). I most enjoyed the oh-so-famous scene where they escape from their captivity among the elves by riding in barrels down a raging river chased simultaneously by orcs with metal jutting out of various parts of their bodes and elves that get really pissed when their captives escape (and I thought white water rafting was intense...).

Generally, two dimensions are plenty for me when I go to see a movie. Therefore, I expected to be completely unimpressed by my 3D screening of The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. I get freaked out enough when things jump out at me in 2D, on a flat surface- things literally jumping OUT AT me in 3D put me on the verge of a heart attack. You can imagine my relief (or can you?) when Peter Jackson, generally the king of overdoing things, went more subtle on the 3D front. Yes, yes, he "threw an orc head" at us on one occasion, but other than that left the gimmicky stuff to a minimum- a giant bee "coming right at you," etc. etc.

My favorite characters, hands-down, are Gandalf and Bilbo. Strangely, the star hobbit of The Lord of the Rings films, Frodo, pissed me off to no end. He was such a wuss and always causing trouble for everyone else. I bet Gandalf instantly regretted the choice of entrusting the ring to such a little cry-baby. Yet it makes sense that he would, after seeing how incredibly brave of a hobbit Bilbo was. He must have figured due to their sharing some DNA, Frodo would be just as brave. Well, we all know that one trait that did not make it through to future generations. Back to the point: Martin Freeman completely aces his portrayal of Bilbo. He is lovable, you root for him, he beautifully demonstrates his changing character after discovering the ring... spot on with the casting there. As for Gandalf... well I have loved Ian McKellen from the moment I set eyes on him as Gandalf the Gray all those years ago. Watching him get beat up by Sauron and his minions in this film is worse than watching an adorable puppy get kicked in the snout.

I'm sure you are all just dying to know about the oh-so-mysterious dragon, Smaug, and whether or not Peter Jackson got his appearance "correct." I mean, how hard it is to make a CGI dragon look big and terrifying? Better than his looks was his voice- one that is becoming more and more familiar- that of Benedict Cumberbatch. I guess he decided between acting in the Sherlock series and playing Khan in Star Trek among many other films, he figured "hey, why not do the voice of one of the most famous dragons ever written about? I've got time for that." Well, I'm glad he decided to, and you'll see why.

The film was truly fantastic. A little long, but no surprise there. Ed Sheeran singing the song during the closing credits was the icing on top of my beautiful Hobbit cake. I am madly in love with that sexy, British redhead singer so it was, to say the least, a pleasant surprise to hear his silky, sultry voice singing about the plight of the dwarves. Even if just to hear that song... go see The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. Oh, and don't worry ladies, Orlando is looking just as sexy in this film. 

Alright, this Journey is a Little Expected...

Who in their right mind goes into a movie adapted from only a fraction of a novel which is not of considerable length and expects it to move at a rapid pace? Only certifiably insane people, if you ask me. I certainly do not see a point cinematically to dividing The Hobbit into two parts let alone three (we all see the financial point, however). The only literature adapted to the big screen currently in theaters which desperately needs division into multiple films at the moment is Anna Karenina. In that case, we're dealing with a 735-page Russian novel. Perhaps division could have saved that train wreck of a film (for those of you who have read the book or seen the movie, no pun intended).

Back to the topic at hand- The Hobbit. Before stepping into the theater I was under the impression that it was "only" going to be two films, and I still had the common sense to mentally prep myself as best as possibly for the long haul. At 169 minutes, The Hobbit part one certainly is trying at times. I would advise anyone with concentration issues, diagnosed or otherwise, to really gear up or take some meds or to hook up to an IV of caffeine before the screening.

I read a multitude of reviews on good ol' Rotten Tomatoes before attending the midnight premiere. Every critic who "blasted" the film referenced the same negative aspect- the draggy nature of the begining. Yes, it was probably a little bit worse than watching molasses slowly trickle down a slope at a 1 degree angle for the first 45 minutes to an hour. But my dedication to the Lord of the Rings films and the talented acting right from the get-go of Martin Freeman as young Bilbo had me holding out hope. And I'm glad I did. Once the ball gets rolling, The Hobbit is a truly charming film. I'm talking chivilrous, European gentleman caller charming. Considering it is the most lighthearted of Tolkein's books, the film took a surprisingly dark twist as well. Yet the generous sprinkling of humor throughout the plot more than made up for it.

My favorite scene, and I don't believe I'm alone in this, was the famous riddle exchange between Bilbo and Gollum. Mainly, perhaps, because of the talented Martin Freeman and Andy Serkis (disguised by CGI). Other moments captivated me as well such as the familiar, touching exchanges between characters reminiscent of those in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. When Bilbo is acknowledged for his immense bravery with violins swelling in the background it tugs at my heart strings more than a sad puppy's eyes looking up at me from a cage in the pound. And one undeniable truth is that whether you are bored or not, the scenery alone provides plenty of eye candy and makes you want to travel to New Zealand all over again.