The Point of the Spiders

Perhaps the most important rule in storytelling is that every person, place, thing, or event in the story needs to serve a purpose. If an element doesn't have some unique effect on the characters or the plot, then it should probably be removed. This rule is a lot more strict in film than in literature, but even books can only get away with spinning their narrative wheels for so long. Considering this, let's examine one of the more famous scenes from The Hobbit where Bilbo saves his dwarf companions from the spiders in the forest of Mirkwood.

Here's how the journey through Mirkwood unfolds in both the book and its film adaptations:

1.  Bilbo and the dwarves get lost.

2.  Bilbo gets separated from the dwarves.

3.  The dwarves get captured by spiders.

4.  Bilbo saves the dwarves from the spiders.

5.  The dwarves get captured by elves.

6.  Bilbo saves the dwarves from the elves.


Looking at this list, the chain of events seems a little redundant. Why not just have the elves capture the dwarves right after Bilbo gets separated from them and leave out the spiders altogether? The elves are more important in the long run, and since rescuing the dwarves from them is the bigger challenge of the two anyway, it seems like more efficient storytelling to only have one rescue in Mirkwood. So what's the point of including the spiders in the plot?

Well, the first argument is an easy one: J.R.R. Tolkien wrote The Hobbit as an adventure tale for children, so it's okay for it to have a lot of action scenes with a loose narrative structure. That may be true, but there's a bit more to the spiders than just being one more obstacle. There's a lot of fear surrounding Mirkwood in the story, enough to earn several warnings, and having the characters actually get captured by monsters inside that forest justifies that fear. Without the spiders, Mirkwood would just seem like a really dark place with deer, butterflies, grouchy elves, and rivers that you need to stay out of -- hazardous, but not menacing. Including the spiders also helps to drive home the story's lesson of listening to your elders; having the dwarves almost get eaten by monsters because they ignored Gandalf and wandered off the path leaves a much stronger impression than just having them get arrested by elves.

It can also be argued that the spiders serve to offset the elves. The Mirkwood elves are the beings that Bilbo's company gets the biggest warning about. They're the main obstacle in the forest, not the spiders. Prior to this though, the story presents elves more or less as allies, so they don't feel like much of a threat to the readers, the viewers, or the heroes. All of the trouble before Mirkwood comes from monsters, and having Bilbo fight off one more round of monsters in the forest only to have the elves capture his friends shows a transition in the story. Instead of vicious, evil creatures, Bilbo now has good but uncooperative people standing in his way. That means that instead of cutting and stabbing his way out of trouble, he has to harness his wits that he discovered during the Riddle Game with Gollum and be strategic from this point on.

Another thing to consider is that the fight with the spiders is the peak of Bilbo learning to embrace his adventurous side. He comes to the dwarves' rescue single-handedly for the first time, he names his sword and uses it for combat, and in the book, he makes up songs to taunt the spiders with as he fends them off. He's finally mastering the abilities that the quest has forced him to learn so far, and he's having fun doing it. The fact that he's going up against a nest of evil monsters with very little moral dilemmas about hurting them makes the scene fun for the readers and viewers as well. This creates an especially nice contrast with his refusal to fight in the Battle of the Five Armies after he grows wiser from his experiences.


And that's the most important purpose of the spiders in The Hobbit. They show that the main character is capable of growing and changing. Bilbo's greatest internal conflict is that he wants to lead the quiet, predictable lifestyle of a hobbit despite being from a family that prefers the unexpected. He resists change in the first part of the story, and while it's helpful that he's good at fighting giant spiders in Mirkwood, it's more important that he decides to fight them at all. Thematically, the spiders are a test of whether or not Bilbo is adaptable and confident enough for the second half of his journey, and as soon as he passes that test, the Mirkwood elves step in to take things to the next level things for him.

Did the Dwarves Pre-write "Blunt The Knives"?

Something that I should probably clarify at the beginnings of my Hobbit theory essays is what a "fan theory" is. The best definition that I can think of is that it's an idea regarding something in a film, show, book, or some other storytelling medium that members of the fanbase choose to believe even though that idea is typically not the intention of the original creator. Fans conceive such ideas for various reasons, sometimes to fill in plotholes or to connect things in the narrative that seem like they could fit together, but the purpose of most fan theories is to provide a more interactive way of enjoying a story. We like to feel as if we contributed something to our favorite films, shows, books, and so forth, and putting together evidence to support our theories can make for a fun brain exercise.

With that said, I want to present another fan theory about the Peter Jackson Hobbit films: that the dwarves of Thorin Oakenshield's company wrote and rehearsed the song "Blunt the Knives" prior to meeting Bilbo Baggins.

This theory could perhaps apply to the book as well, but I'll be discussing it mainly in the context of the movies. That's because the song's inclusion is a bit more conspicuous in the film adaptation.

By in large, the six Peter Jackson Middle-earth movies try to ground the stories of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings in reality more than the books do. The animals don't speak for the most part, uses of magic are depicted very subtly, and aside from a few goofy combat physics (mostly on the part of the mystical elves), the characters don't bend the laws of time and space too much. Considering this, it's a bit jarring to see twelve dwarves break out into an improvised, well-timed song and dance number where everyone sings along in perfect harmony and knows every word. When does that ever happen outside of a musical?

It's easy to believe other singing scenes in the Hobbit movies, namely the dwarves' renditions of "The Misty Mountains Cold" and "The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late," but that's because we can assume that they've known those songs for a long time and have probably sung them before. This leads me to wonder if perhaps the song "Blunt the Knives" wasn't improvised after all, but was in fact another piece that the dwarves knew well before performing it.

They would have had the time to compose it; Gandalf decides on the morning of the Unexpected Party that he will send the dwarves to Bag End, and they don't arrive there until late in the evening. Furthermore, the first dozen arrive at roughly the same time, which could mean that they spent a good portion of their journey from the Blue Mountains to the Shire traveling together. A trip that long can get boring, and since Middle-earth dwarves are shown to be musically inclined, the twelve of them could have easily come up with and memorized a song about their soon-to-be host along the way. They would know his name, since Gandalf says that morning that he will "inform the others" of Bilbo's inclusion on their quest and Kili almost says it correctly upon meeting Bilbo.

The song's lead-in at the party is also somewhat suspicious. Right in the middle of their rowdy celebration, the dwarves all start pounding their silverware on the table in perfect rhythm until Bilbo complains that they'll blunt them, then the dwarf Bofur very slyly relays this concern to the others. It's as if they were deliberately baiting Bilbo into saying something close to their song's opening line and then Bofur cued everyone to start singing it. This begs the question of whether all of their rude behavior before that really was plain ignorance or actually one big act to get Mr. Baggins fired up.

The next question is why the dwarves would want to tease him so thoroughly. Most likely, it's because Gandalf mentioned while informing them of Bilbo that the hobbit was sort of a stick in the mud. The wizard makes it clear while talking to Bilbo that morning that he's unhappy with the way Belladonna Took's son has turned out, so he probably conveyed that unhappiness to the company and painted a less than flattering picture of the halfling. This may have given the dwarves the (correct) impression that they wouldn't be welcome in Bag End, so they may have decided to give Bilbo the same treatment that they give to most hosts who don't appreciate their company.

Just look at their behavior in Rivendell later: they make a mess at the dinner table, sing a song that the elves clearly don't like, eat them out of house and home, trash the furniture, and do something in a public fountain that probably also caused a few plumbing issues.

Compare that then to their respectful behavior in the house of Beorn, a giant skin-changer who makes a habit of tearing apart unwanted visitors, and their reverence in Erebor, the home of their forefathers. Dwarves are entirely capable of civility, but they'll be stubborn and proud if they can afford to be. If they pick up any holier-than-thou vibes from someone and believe that they can get away with a few pranks, they'll gladly entertain themselves at that person's expense. Writing a song about ruining said person's belongings is one of the tamer things they can do.

With that said though, they seem to like Bilbo a lot more than they like the elves. Why else would they clean his dishes after all was said and done? If "Blunt the Knives" was a pre-written prank, then it was obviously meant in good nature. It's almost flattering, really, that the dwarves went to the trouble to compose a song specifically about Bilbo instead of just singing any old tune. Maybe like Gandalf, they sensed that the hobbit wasn't as prim and proper as he tried to be and just wanted to nudge him out of his shell a little.

Dwarves just nudge a little harder than most folk, as we all know.

Was Bofur Left in Laketown On Purpose?

I've said before on this blog that the fun of watching a story play out over multiple installments is that it gets the creative wheels in your head turning. You would think that a film series like The Hobbit, which is based on one of the most thoroughly mapped out legendariums in literary history, wouldn't allow much room for fan theories, but through the power of book-to-screen adaptation, a lot of things have changed in the tale and a lot of questions have been raised about them. One such change is the screenwriters' decision to have four of the dwarves from Thorin Oakenshield's company stay behind in Laketown in the trilogy's second film, The Desolation of Smaug.

For the sake of this essay, here's a quick run-down of how that scene unfolds. Thorin is in a hurry to leave Laketown so his party can reach the secret door into Erebor by sundown, a deadline that their entire quest hinges on them meeting. Having learned that his nephew Kili is injured, Thorin orders him to stay behind for the time being since he will likely slow their progress. Outraged by this, Kili's brother Fili decides to stay behind with him, and the group's medic Oin decides to stay as well so he can tend to Kili's wound. In the midst of all of this, a fourth dwarf named Bofur wakes up late to discover that the group is leaving without him and he just misses the boat out of Laketown.

The controversy of this change aside, the only leaving-behind of the four that ever felt contrived to me was Bofur's. The reasons for the other three dwarves are fairly well set up and tie in naturally with each other, but in Bofur's case, it just sort of happens. No one has much to say about it, and it seems almost random that it even happens to him at all. We know from a storytelling standpoint why it does; he's one of the more likeable dwarves, and if he's in Laketown when the dragon Smaug attacks it, we'll be more invested. In the context of the movie though, it's a little hard to buy that twelve other dwarves (including his own brother and cousin) would fail to notice his absence from the group.

This leads me to my own personal fan theory about The Desolation of Smaug: that Bofur being left behind in Laketown is supposed to feel contrived because in the context of the movie, it was contrived. My theory is that the other dwarves left him there on purpose.

Why would they do that? The answer, I believe, lies with the person who most likely would have orchestrated the whole plan—Thorin.

Looking at his interactions with Bofur before that, it's easy to come up with a motive for the King Under the Mountain. For starters, Bofur doesn't seem to take Thorin all that seriously as a leader. He follows orders most of the time, even if he's not always thrilled with them, but when there's danger afoot, he makes his own judgement calls without waiting to hear what Thorin thinks.

Take for instance the warg chase from An Unexpected Journey. After the company takes cover from their pursuers in a cave, they discover a tunnel, which Bofur immediately declares they should venture into. The rest of the company obeys this direction without so much as consulting Thorin.

The end result of this is their arrival in Rivendell, where the elves and the White Council try to put a stop to their quest. This is a situation that Thorin's been trying to avoid from the very beginning of the journey, and Bofur more or less led their group into it.

There's another instance of Bofur overstepping his bounds at the beginning of The Desolation of Smaug. Upon learning that their company is in the vicinity of a giant, man-eating bear, he suggests to everyone that they turn around and go back the way they came. This time, however, Thorin dismisses the idea before it's considered.


This seems to show development on Thorin's part. He's aware by now that Bofur has a habit of going over his head and leading the group into troublesome situations, so he's ready to keep it in check. As we see though, Thorin becomes more desperate and obsessed with reaching Erebor the closer their deadline grows, and he becomes quicker to cast aside problematic group members than he is to deal with them. If he's willing to exclude his injured nephew from the home stretch of their journey, he's probably more than willing to exclude an apparent loose canon like Bofur.

Thorin's motive could also pertain to his plan for after he finds the entrance to Erebor. His intention is to send Bilbo into Smaug's lair alone to steal back one key piece of treasure while the dragon is sleeping. The other company members, being dwarves whose smell Smaug will recognize, are supposed to wait outside of the mountain the entire time. If something should go wrong with this plan, there's a very good chance that the hobbit and possibly the dwarves will be killed.

It's no secret to Thorin by the time they reach Laketown that Bofur is attached to Bilbo. He's there when Bofur tries to save their burglar from the cliff on the Misty Mountains, and we see him eavesdropping on the conversation in the cave where Bofur wishes Bilbo "all the luck in the world." Furthermore, he's the person that Bofur asks about Bilbo's whereabouts when the dwarves are captured by elves in Mirkwood.

Thorin has probably also noticed that the insolent dwarf tends to lose his head whenever Mr. Baggins is in danger. Bofur has to be pulled to safety himself at one point during the stone giants' battle while trying to keep Bilbo secured, and when the hobbit almost falls from the cliff, Bofur doesn't just throw himself over the edge to try and grab him. He also commands Ori, the youngest dwarf in the group, to do the same.

Given all of this, it's conceivable that Bofur might charge into Smaug's lair to rescue Bilbo at the first sign of trouble, which could have a disastrous outcome for everyone present. Thorin would never take a chance on something like that happening. It's doubtful that Bofur would obey an order to stay in Laketown, and since having him detained there might make him even less cooperative in the future, Thorin's best option would be to make his leaving-behind appear accidental.

If that is the case, then why would the other dwarves go along with that plan? They all seem to like Bofur, and while they may be anxious to reach the mountain and take back Erebor too, I don't think they're as keen as their leader is to accomplish their goal through deception. The most likely explanation is that Thorin told them it would be for Bofur's own good, for all of the previously mentioned reasons. It may have helped his argument that Bofur appeared to be hungover on the morning that they left Laketown. The other dwarves didn't want their reckless friend/brother/cousin to get hurt or killed, so they agreed not to wake him as they were preparing to leave.

Bilbo seems to have been left out of that conspiracy though, as he's the only person to ask where Bofur is on their way to the boats. It's possible that since he's so close to the dwarf and the others don't know him well enough to predict how he'd feel about such an idea, they decided it was best to just keep the hobbit out of the loop. Either that, or they figured Bilbo had enough to worry about that day as it was.

This leads me to wonder then what the screenwriters' other purpose was for keeping Bofur in Laketown, besides raising the stakes during Smaug's attack. Philippa Boyens has said on numerous occasions that they wanted his character to see that attack so he could come more into his own in The Battle of the Five Armies. That arc didn't make it into the film's final cut, but if it's restored in the Extended Edition, could the above theory play a part in it?

It would be easy enough to work into the plot. Perhaps in the excitement of their reunion, one of the other dwarves (the usually silent Bombur, perhaps?) could let it slip to Bofur that Thorin told them to leave him behind. This combined with their leader's refusal to help the Laketown survivors could cause Bofur to lose what little respect he did have for Thorin, prompting him to actively oppose the new dwarf king. Perhaps then Bofur would become the person that Thorin originally suspects of stealing the Arkenstone, and this mounting tension could lead to the alleged cut scene where Bofur sends Bilbo away from Erebor at night to ensure the hobbit's safety.

Once again though, this is just a fan theory. There's no way to determine whether or not any of this was the filmmakers' intent, but a lack of definitive proof rarely snuffs out speculations like these. Some Tolkien readers have believed ever since the 1970's that Gollum killed Frodo's parents, after all. Not knowing the truth is part of what makes fan theories so enjoyable; it inspires that same spark of imaginative storytelling that can sometimes lead to gems like The Hobbit.

All the same, I still hope very much that when the final Extended Edition comes out, Bofur's secret purpose does get included in the final leg of that journey.

Was Bilbo a Failure?

I was recently thinking about the third Hobbit movie, The Battle of the Five Armies, when I realized what my biggest issue with it is. It's not that it strays from the book or that the elves get more screentime than the dwarves, or even that Alfrid gets any screentime.

It's that the main protagonist, Bilbo Baggins, doesn't clearly accomplish anything by the end of it.

That's not to say that Bilbo doesn't do anything in the movie. He actually does quite a lot. It's just that for as much as he does, none of it really seems to pay off.

His main goal for about the first half of the plot is to save his thirteen dwarf friends by preventing the battle over the treasure that Thorin refuses to share with the Laketown survivors. Bilbo tries to accomplish this by giving the survivors Thorin's prized Arkenstone, which they can use as leverage to get their promised share of treasure from the corrupt dwarf king. It's an ingenious plan (despite Thorin trying to kill him over it), but then a bunch of other armies show up and make it all for nothing. Bilbo's new objective after that becomes to save Thorin and company from an ambush by Azog on Ravenhill during the battle. He does a good job of defying Gandalf's authority and reaching Thorin in time to warn him, but by then it's too late for them to escape from that ambush, so Thorin, Fili, and Kili end up dying anyway.

And then there's Bilbo's overall goal throughout the whole film: to save Thorin from his corruption. He does succeed at that, but Thorin's death soon afterwards makes it kind of a short life lesson, and since the other dwarves already disapproved of his greedy behavior, they don't really learn anything from the hobbit by the end either. What's more, instead of feeling uplifted by Thorin's noble redemption, Bilbo spends the rest of the movie and possibly the rest of his life so traumatized that he can barely even admit Thorin was his friend.

Man, and we say The Lord of the Rings is the darker story.

It's possible, like many issues with The Battle of the Five Armies, that this will be ironed out in the Extended Edition later this year. You can also make the argument that Bilbo's real goal throughout the entire trilogy was to help the dwarves of Erebor reclaim their homeland, which he did, and therefore he wasn't a failure. I heartily agree with that argument, but the third installment doesn't take the time to properly reflect on that and remind us of Bilbo's successes when all is said and done.

...And that's why I think The Battle of the Five Armies needed to establish Ori's journal.

If you read my essay "There's Something About Ori" back in November, you knew I was going to revisit that topic sooner or later after the third movie came out. Not only doesn't the mitten-wearing scribe get the payoff I was hoping to see for him in Battle, but he doesn't even photobomb Bilbo all that much. He does get to stand with Bofur at the front and center of the group when Bilbo says good-bye to the dwarves though, and I'm fairly certain there was a shot of him killing orcs during the company's charge onto the battlefield. It's also been brought to my attention that Ori did in fact draw the sketch of young Bilbo seen in An Unexpected Journey, so at least one speculation in my essay was right.

But I digress. In regards to Bilbo's successes, I think establishing Ori's journal would have done a world of good because it would have reintroduced a very important element of the story: legacy. That's the idea behind Bilbo's book, as well as all of the tales and songs presented in Middle-Earth. They're the means by which their writers pass along lessons and experiences so that future generations can learn from them as well. By informing Bilbo and the audience that one of the dwarves was documenting the quest the whole time, the third movie would have assured that the hobbit's part in that quest would become a major part of Erebor's history. Also, since Ori wrote that tale, we could assume that it would present Bilbo in a positive light and as a good role model.

Just think back to the company's prison-break from Mirkwood in The Desolation of Smaug. Right before Bilbo shows up with the keys, we see Ori very gloomily ask his brother, "We're never gonna reach the mountain, are we?" After Bilbo arrives and starts freeing the dwarves from their cells, we see Ori again, looking completely awestruck by him.

Wouldn't it be a great payoff to have Ori approach Bilbo, perhaps after Thorin's funeral in the Extended Edition, and tell him that every dwarf in Erebor who reads about its reclamation will know it was all thanks to a humble but decent hobbit? It might also be a nice touch if he mentions his notes including how that humble, decent hobbit made the fallen King Under the Mountain noble again. And just for continuity's sake, I would have Ori first break the ice by awkwardly giving Bilbo that portrait sketch.

Alas, like most of my recent Hobbit ramblings, whether or not something like this will happen remains to be seen. I don't know how much hype there's been for the last two Extended Editions, but I suspect the third one is going to stir up a heck of a lot more buzz. It might even stir up enough to rival the third film's theatrical release, at least among fans. And who can blame us? To me, the issue of Bilbo's undermined accomplishments at the end of The Battle of the Five Armies is the ultimate proof that we didn't get a whole movie last December.

And if by change the Extended Edition features a scene of Bilbo kicking Alfrid in the shin, I'll count that as another success.

The Line of Thorin Would Not Be So Easily Cut

Ever since Peter Jackson announced last month that the Extended Edition of The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies was set to be thirty minutes longer, the Internet has been buzzing with predictions. We've all heard tidbits from the writers and cast about things we might expect to see, such as Radagast giving his staff to Gandalf and Bilbo having a talk with Bofur before sneaking out of Erebor, but a lot of hints at other bonus scenes can be found right in the film's promos. Even the two main trailers feature a considerable chunk of material that didn't make it into the final cut.

Looking at some of that material, fans can gather evidence and piece together a few potential scenes.

The scene I want to piece together today centers around Thorin Oakenshield. For as much as the King Under the Mountain gets rebuked in the official trailer, he does get one thing to say for himself: "Everything I did, I did for them." Since he's most likely referring to his nephews Fili and Kili, I think I know exactly what the context of that line is.

First of all, Thorin isn't wearing any of his kingly attire in the shot where he says it. This means that the scene either takes place before Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Oin arrive at Erebor or after Thorin overcomes his "Dragon Sickness" and decides to join the battle for the climax. He doesn't seem to be wearing any armor, so the first theory is probably the case.

Second of all, the trailer shows a shot right before that where Thorin appears to be standing among Erebor's treasure hoard without his crown on. If memory serves me correctly, I don't think that's a scenario we ever saw in the theatrical cut. Since he doubtfully would have gone back to the treasure after casting away his crown, that shot most likely takes place before the four dwarves in Laketown arrive at the mountain. Therefore, the shot where Thorin says his line probably occurs around that same time.

I found it a bit jarring in the theatrical cut when Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Oin arrive at Erebor and Bilbo just runs up to them saying, "FYI, Thorin's a totally different person now." It's understandable that this is how those characters would be informed of Thorin's transformation, but it's also how the audience is informed of it. No more gradually watching his character spiral downward -- he's just completely corrupt now. Since Bilbo mentions that Thorin has been counting the treasure in the mountain for days, we can assume that a scene of that downfall was originally included in the film and might return in the Extended Edition.

So how will it occur?

Well, let's look at Thorin's introduction in The Battle of the Five Armies. As Bilbo and the dwarves watch Smaug attack Laketown in the prologue, we see Nori trying to console his brother Ori. After that, we see Gloin looking dreadful and Bombur looking horrified. I always interpreted that as Gloin and Bombur realizing that their brothers, Oin and Bofur, are still in Laketown and caught in the middle of the carnage. Given that, I see Thorin's reaction, standing away from the group with his back to Laketown, as him realizing that Fili and Kili are also caught in the attack and not being able to watch.

It's likely that the Company's next scene in the Extended Edition will be a new one where they discuss their concern for the dwarves left in Laketown. Since Thorin isn't the most optimistic dwarf, he'll probably be convinced that Fili and Kili didn't survive Smaug's attack. That will prompt him to dismally say his line, "Everything I did, I did for them."

You can imagine what a horrible state of mind that would leave him in. He thinks his nephews are dead. The whole reason he set out to reclaim Erebor was to build a better future for them, and now the whole quest has been for nothing and he no longer has a purpose. And it's pretty much all his fault that Fili and Kili were left behind in Laketown to begin with. Adding the fact that all of his loyal followers are now mourning over two other dwarves that he left behind, it's a wonder Thorin didn't jump right off that cliff he was standing on at the start of the film.

It's pretty easy to guess where things might go from there. Thorin will probably wander away from the others in his depression, come across the treasure hoard, and literally lose himself in it. As we see in the theatrical cut, he gets so lost in it that when Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Oin turn up alive in Erebor, he barely even cares. The only thing he wants to do is show off all of his new treasure to them.

Let me just state for the record how much I hate the concept of "Dragon Sickness." It seems to be presented, at least in the movies, as a mental disorder caused by something in Erebor's gold that descendants of the dwarf king Durin are especially susceptible to. Being corrupted by greed has nothing to do with who those descendants are as people; they have a certain genotype, so they're going to catch that disorder from the contaminated gold. It's the same problem people have with the Midi-chlorians from Star Wars -- it reduces what should be a character trait to a condition.

Having Thorin succumb to "Dragon Sickness" because of his grief over his nephews, however, would fix that. He wouldn't have fallen to temptation because of his bloodline. He would have fallen to it because he lost hope and momentarily lost the will to resist it. That would have everything to do with who he is as a person. It would even make us wonder if he might have endured had Fili and Kili been with him the whole time.

That's about the only extra screentime I see Thorin needing in the Extended Edition (aside from his funeral). I'm very much in the camp that the bulk of that bonus footage should go to the supporting dwarves and characters like Beorn who got seriously shortchanged in this adaptation. We'll probably get more news about the Extended Edition closer to its release, but in the meantime, we'll just have to keep wandering the glorious halls of Tumblr and Twitter while counting the piles of rumors sparkling around us...

Thoughts on Alfrid

Now that we've had time to absorb The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies, I'd like to discuss one particular element of the film today. The character Alfrid (played by Ryan Gage) has had a largely negative reception from viewers, being seen by many as an irritating and pointless addition to the story. Being invented solely for the movies and having a strong resemblance to the character Grima Wormtongue from The Lord of the Rings have never helped his case. It's tough to disagree with the complaints about him in the latest Hobbit movie, but perhaps fans, like the survivors of Laketown, shouldn't be too quick to dispose of him.

I actually found Alfrid really interesting in The Desolation of Smaug. Even in the theatrical cut where a lot of his scenes are omitted, you can tell he has his own agenda. There's something about the way he speaks to the Master of Laketown, watches the other man's reactions, and behaves when the Master isn't looking that suggests he hates the disgusting windbag and is just using him as a puppet to control the town. It's a real testament to Gage's subtlety as an actor.

You would think then that the Master's death at the start of The Battle of the Five Armies would allow Alfrid to step out of the shadows and shine as a character. Instead, the film reduces him to a string of punchlines until he scurries off. He doesn't learn anything, he doesn't oppose the heroes, he just reminds us that he's a jerk and runs off in a dress. Why make a point to spare him from Smaug and the other townspeople if the plot isn't going to make use of his survival?

Granted, this might be smoothed out in the Extended Edition next November. That's a long time from now though, and since I've got this cemented in my head, here's my personal take on what the movie could have done with the character:

After falling out of favor with the townspeople, Alfrid starts contemplating how to win back their approval while grudgingly following Bard's orders in the meantime. He eavesdrops on the meeting where Bilbo gives the Arkenstone to Bard and Thranduil, then just like in the movie, Gandalf forces him to look after the hobbit. This of course ends with Bilbo promptly escaping from Alfrid, which makes the man look even worse and gives him a personal reason to resent Mr. Baggins.

Later, when Bard reveals to Thorin that he has the Arkenstone and Bilbo prepares to explain his role in it, Alfrid steps forward from the crowd. He informs Thorin of Bilbo's actions and describes them in the most dastardly way possible. This feeds Thorin's paranoia to the point that when Bilbo explains himself truthfully, the dwarf king refuses to believe him. Bard angrily asks Alfrid what he's up to, and Alfrid explains that exposing a traitor among Oakenshield's company will make the dwarves violently turn on each other, thus removing the need for a battle.

That's Alfrid's plan to win back the townspeople's approval -- to be the one who got them the gold and prevented war. His triumph is short-lived though, as Gandalf intervenes to save Bilbo and then the orc army arrives gung-ho for a fight anyway. No longer seeing a future for himself among the survivors of Laketown, Alfrid lies low during the battle and flees with his stolen gold at the first opportunity.

It's possible that something along those lines could happen in the Extended Edition. Philippa Boyens said in the commentary for The Desolation of Smaug that Alfrid's character is supposed to "blossom" in the third film, which doesn't seem to have happened yet. Some may cringe at the thought of him getting even more screentime, but as we saw with Beorn's introduction in the last film, sometimes material in a theatrical cut gets removed from the Extended Edition to make way for a better alternative.

And just for the heck of it, here's a crazy fan theory to walk away with: maybe in the movies, Alfrid is Grima Wormtongue's father.

They look, sound, and act a lot alike, right? Wormtongue has a vastly different appearance from the other Rohan natives, and sixty years do pass between the two film trilogies. Perhaps after slipping away from the battle, Alfrid found his way to Rohan, changed his name to Galmod for good measure, and found a woman stupid enough to marry him. Having a ton of cash on him probably helped in that department. The end result was Grima, who apparently followed his father's example and attached himself to two powerful figures.

And as for Grima's creepy habits with women...well, he probably overheard a few arguments between his parents about whose dress from Laketown that was in the closet.

There's Something About Ori

It's no news to Hobbit fans that the Extended Edition of The Desolation of Smaug came out a few weeks ago with 25 minutes of bonus scenes added to the film. I enjoyed those scenes as much as the next fan, but watching that version brought a rather amusing and puzzling trend to my attention. What makes that trend puzzling is that it centers around the character Ori.

For anyone not familiar with The Hobbit, Ori is one of thirteen dwarves that the hero Bilbo Baggins joins on a quest to reclaim their kingdom from a dragon. Even though Ori appears all throughout the book, he has no real personality to speak of and never gets a single line of dialogue. He's basically just there to be the thirteenth dwarf. His character is much more fleshed out and talkative in the movies, yet he still remains something of a featured extra.

But have you ever noticed how often he's right next to Bilbo?

I'm not talking about scenes where the two of them actually interact, either. I'm talking about scenes where Bilbo and the dwarves are just standing around, running around, wandering around, or doing anything else around; scenes where the placement of the characters is meant to be random. There are so many times where Ori is either directly beside, behind, or in front of Bilbo. Even in a lot of shots where Bilbo is the main focus, Ori will be the most prominently visible other character.

 

Okay, that last one doesn't count. I just think it's a funny picture.

But why does this keep happening? Why does this seemingly unimportant character keep popping up so close to the main protagonist? Is it just a coincidence? Are the filmmakers doing it on purpose, or aren't they even aware of it?

If they aren't aware of it, I have two theories:

         1. It really is just a coincidence.

         2. They're doing it subconsciously.

A bit of background for Theory #2 -- The actor who plays Ori is named Adam Brown, and when he first auditioned for The Hobbit, he actually tried out for the role of Bilbo. He wasn't quite what they were looking for, but the screenwriters loved his audition so much that they wrote Ori's characteristics based on Brown's personality for him specifically to play. Since Brown had a lot of Bilbo-like qualities to begin with, it's no surprise that the film version of Ori wound up with a lot of those qualities too.

Is it possible that in the backs of their minds, the filmmakers still saw Adam Brown and Martin Freeman as the same character, and thus kept seeing Ori as the most natural choice for someone to frame with Bilbo?

If the filmmakers are aware of the trend, I have a few other theories:


         3. They're doing it as an in-joke to the fact that Adam Brown auditioned for Bilbo.

         4. They're doing it because Ori is the smallest and least distracting-looking dwarf.

         5. They're doing it to hint at how protective the other dwarves are.

See, most of the dwarves are well aware of how dangerous their quest is -- except for Ori. He's the kid who signed up with no clue of what he was getting into, much like Bilbo did. Since the two of them are the weakest and least experienced members of the group, it would make sense for the others to lump them together. That would make keeping tabs on both of them easier.

It's also possible that as the journey goes on and becomes more dangerous, this would start happening more often. That could be why Ori and Bilbo are seen together far more in The Desolation of Smaug than in An Unexpected Journey.

And then there's the crazy theory:

         6. The filmmakers are trying to subliminally convey that Bilbo and Ori have a lot in common.

Think about it. The movies could be gradually conditioning us to associate Ori with Bilbo and we don't even know it! If in some bizarre universe this really is the case, then why do it? Did the filmmakers feel bad that they couldn't give Adam Brown a bigger subplot so they decided to showcase his character more covertly? Or better yet, maybe it could be some very subtle foreshadowing of things to come in the next movie, The Battle of the Five Armies.

Probably the most notable aspect of Ori in the films is that he's a scribe. His job on the quest is to document everything in a journal so that future generations can someday read about his group's accomplishments. The only problem is that the films still have yet to clearly introduce his journal. The most we've seen of it so far are a few shots of him handling it in Bilbo's house, and one of those shots features him (of course) in the background behind Bilbo.

That instance really lends to the idea that the filmmakers are trying to subtly draw a connection between the two characters. It happens when the wizard Gandalf tells Bilbo, "All good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back." Look quickly, and you can spy Ori behind the hobbit, writing in his journal; he's in the process of telling his own "tale or two."

It's also worth noting that Ori tends to play second fiddle to another dwarf, Bofur, in scenes where the latter interacts with Bilbo. In An Unexpected Journey, Bilbo's rant to Gandalf about what the dwarves have done to his house is book-ended by an exchange with Bofur and an exchange with Ori. Later, when Bilbo nearly falls off of a cliff, Ori assists Bofur in a rescue attempt.

In The Desolation of Smaug, Bofur, Bilbo, and Ori are the first three to approach the enchanted river in Mirkwood. When it becomes apparent that Bilbo will have to cross the river first, he looks to Bofur and Ori for confirmation.

In the scene where Bilbo frees the dwarves from an elf prison, Bofur and Ori are the only two characters who speak before the hobbit arrives. Lastly, when the group reaches their destination without Bofur and sends Bilbo in to face the dragon alone, Ori is the first to voice concern for the hobbit -- a job that Bofur usually has covered.

So what's my point in bringing this up? Well, Bofur has one of the closer relationships with Bilbo among the dwarves, and having Ori as the third wheel in that relationship seems to suggest that the little scribe has a similar fondness for Mr. Baggins. Since Bofur is currently not among the group and it's allegedly been hinted that Ori and Bilbo have a lot in common, perhaps the two will have a moment to bond with each other in the next movie. And perhaps it will be over Ori's journal.

We see in the very beginning of An Unexpected Journey that Bilbo eventually decides to write his own book about the quest. We also see him dig up an old sketch of his younger self while preparing to write his book. I can easily imagine a scene in the third film where Ori shows Bilbo his journal and unknowingly plants the seed of inspiration for our hero to become a writer too. Given how dark and dire The Battle of the Five Armies seems to be from the trailers, a warmer and more innocent scene like that might be greatly welcome.

As for the old sketch of Bilbo, I'm not the first person to speculate that Ori drew it for him.


But at the end of the day, that's all any of this is: speculation. Come December 17th, I might look back on this essay and think, "Wow. I was an insane person three weeks ago." That's the fun of watching a story play out over multiple installments, though. It gets the creative wheels in your head turning.

In all likelihood, regardless of why he's there, Ori will probably remain off to the side and in the background throughout The Battle of the Five Armies. I see potential for his character and an opportunity to show it, but that doesn't change the fact that his character is a peripheral one that the film might not have time for. Who knows? Maybe he stands a better chance of getting the spotlight in the next Extended Edition. I have hope, even if it is, as they say, just a fool's hope.