This third installment of The Hobbit trilogy is allegedly the shortest of all of Peter Jackson’s Tolkien films, but my theater must have been orbiting a black hole because I could swear it swallowed up 20 years of my life. Maybe it was all that slow-motion. Or maybe it was the fact that, more than any of the other films in Jackson’s ill-advised (but ridiculously lucrative) trilogy, The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies feels thoroughly inconsequential — a bloated, portentous mess that, in a just world, should not exist.
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