An Ocular Assault: My Experience with The Hobbit in 3D HFR
When I took my seat I wasn't sure what to expect. I was familiar with the temperature of the HFR debate, and had seen a few examples of what the technique is meant to address (RED has a good set of them), but none of that really prepares you for it.
The Jordan Commons IMAX theater in Sandy, a 6,000 sq ft screen, is the largest in the state and one of just four equipped with HFR-capable projection. They let you bring dinner with you on the most American plastic tray imaginable; you mount it on one of the seat's cupholders and swivel it over your lap like a gluttonous seatbelt. I've eaten many a crepe this way.
Ah, if only they served beer.
Here's the thing: moving any camera around when filming is a complicated problem. Sudden bumps when in motion makes for a messy picture, which is why filmmakers spend obscene amounts of money on camera rigs to stabilize them. Panning too quickly makes the image stutter and jump (see the Royal Tenenbaums; Wes Anderson has never quite figured that one out). Panning too fast on digital causes "rolling shutter", that weird jelly effect you might notice your iPhone doing whenever you whip it around. Go ahead, try it out. Shit's maddening.
HFR is one attempt to fix this. By doubling the frame rate (and some other technical stuff I won't get into), these side effects are much less severe. Characters can be hurled all over the place and the camera can dance around in crazy angles while keeping the frame perfectly sharp and clear. For the moment to moment concerns of a cinematographer, it's a wet dream. It changes everything.
The problem is, it changes everything.
The opening sequence shows an old Bilbo Baggins in his home in the Shire, working on his book. Five seconds into the movie, he reached for something in his desk. Only, his hand didn't 'reach for it' so much as violently dart around the screen like a cracked out zombie. My eyes were immediately at odds with the events on screen. You'd think the clarity and smooth motion would be a wonderful improvement on the gorgeously golden Middle Earth Peter Jackson so loves to paint, but I almost punched at the screen in some anxiety-induced reflex. As Bilbo stood to answer the door, my eyes zipped around the screen looking for an anchor. Something that wasn't moving, anything, please. Thankfully the two hobbits sat still and just talked for a moment. I started to settle down.
Then it was back with a vengeance. There was a monologue about Smaug the dragon, and the dwarves, and some gold. Vast panning shots of enormous landscape and thousands of dwarves and elves and other creatures. I barely remember any of it. I don't know the name of the king, or Thorin's father, or the villain, or even the name of the kingdom in the mountain because the damn movie explained it while something was moving. Whoever chopped that tall dude's arm off did so with an oak branch, as far as my mind was concerned. In fact, the only moments I can recall clearly were largely stationary. The serious parts of the dinner party, the camping, the council meeting at Rivendell, the cave after the stone giants, most of the time spent with Gollum; I was able to actually pay attention to, you know, words.
Strangely, I did not feel the same way when I first left the theater. The gigantic 3D HFR screen did not give me a headache or induce any nausea. I felt fine. After about 45 minutes of it, I actually kinda got used to the frame rate. It wasn't until the next day that I noticed the vast gaps in my memory.
This attentive. All the time.
There is just. Too. Much. Did you know one of the dwarves has an axe in his head? I certainly didn't. I can't think of a moment (and this is Peter Jackson we're talking about) where I could have possibly noticed such a detail. Not when my brain can't decide which one of the thirteen (yes, I had to google the exact number) dwarves and 3,000,000 goblins to focus on. Everything is so damn sharp and clear that nothing stands out, and so I absorb nothing, and remember nothing.
So, this essentially comes down to a question of pacing. Normally a movie would be able to pad a frantic, confusing action sequence with a stable, measured beat of dialogue to give the audience time to breathe and process what just happened; look at any of the Bourne movies, they're practically defined by them. One moment you're watching cars flip around and explode on a crazy shaky cam, the next you calmly observe a dude standing still, staring at a wall. But HFR is always there. Your eyes are always busy. Unless everyone is borderline motionless, you cannot relax. Thus, it doesn't matter how excessive Jackson gets with his editing, you won't have time to properly reflect on any of it.
If you've read any of the debate on HFR, you've heard people complain about the fake-looking props and prosthetics, obvious sets and so on, all exposed by the absurd detail the technology gives the viewer. The more shallow critics will compare HFR to a video game, as if that means anything. You don't have to interact with a movie, guys. You aren't an active participant in the action, with goals of your own. Games like any other form of media are concerned with completely different rules of engagement, and pretending one's techniques are somehow directly comparable to another's is stupid and panderous. Stop it.
All that said, I don't hate HFR. Much as it ruins the experience of The Hobbit, it has it's moments. There are brief flashes of brilliance in how it handles motion on screen. It reminds me of the earlier years of CG character animation, when Uncanny Valley constantly reared it's inhuman head. For a frame or two it would look great, then the proportions would shift slightly and suddenly it looked like a creepy android trying to behave like a mannequin. Back and forth, back and forth. HFR is the same thing, only as the director of the scene instead of the subject. There is probably a future for it as a sparingly applied technique for certain motion problems. From what I've heard, The Hobbit in 2D is wonderful, and probably benefits from being sampled down from the clarity of 48fps.
We'll see how Hollywood deals with it, I guess.