secretmellowblog: I’ve been thinking about the “unreliable…


I’ve been thinking about the “unreliable narrator” aspect of the Hobbit recently and CONSIDER:

A comic adaptation of the Hobbit where each character “writes” in a different art style. 

Bilbo is the narrator, so most of the story is told in his art style.

But when like….. the dwarves describe Smaug’s attack on Erebor to Bilbo… the history of Erebor is drawn in the dwarves’ art style, to reflect that we’re seeing these events from the dwarves’ point of view.

When the elves descibe Smaug’s attack on Erebor– and describe it differently from the dwarves– the history of Erebor is drawn in the elves’ art style, to reflect that we’re now seeing the events from the elves’ point of view. And so on, and so on.

……I have no idea how coherent this is but I’ve been obsessed with this idea for a long time.

So anyway here are a bunch of my notes about this + brainstorming ideas for what each character/group’s art style would look like!

EDIT: Here’s Chapter 1!








i hate no pulp orange juice like sorry my bad if I wanted to drink gatorade i would just do that

do you think that bread is the pulp of water…?

would you drink water with seeds and grasses in it

what is wrong with you people. do any of you know what water is

are you guys fucking okay? whats going on here

#the pulp of water is an ill-conceived crossover project between guillermo del toro and quentin tarantino

scyllas-revenge:I can watch no longer in silence. I must complain about you by such means as are…


I can watch no longer in silence. I must complain about you by such means as are within my reach. You’ve ripped out my soul. I am half agony, half hopeless. Tell me not that this is it, that such precious Jane Austen adaptations are gone forever. 

I offer you my screenwriting advice with a heart even more desperate than when you almost broke it with the release of the Persuasion trailer one month ago.

Dare not say that this movie is accurate, that this Anne is a stronger protagonist than her book counterpart. I have loved none but her. Pretentious I may have been, annoying and demanding I have been, but always with the film’s best interests at heart. 

The book alone has brought me to you. For it alone I sat and watched. Have you not realized this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I would not have waited even ten minutes after turning off the TV to write this, could I have mastered my own feelings, as I think you must have guessed mine. 

I can hardly type. I am in every instant recalling something which makes me want to punch a wall. You rewrote Anne as a snarky girlboss, but I can appreciate the nuance of her book counterpart when it would be lost on the Netflix execs. Too horrible, too disgusting adaptation! You do us insult, indeed. You do believe that there is not a single brain cell in your audience. Believe mine to have shriveled up and died while watching this movie, most painfully, in the brain of

-Everyone Watching

I must go, and cleanse my remaining sanity with the 1995 adaptation; but I shall return hither, to laugh at this adaptation with my friends, as soon as I can stomach it. But another sentence of clunky narration, another infuriating wink from this horrible version of Anne to the camera, will be enough to make me cancel my Netflix subscription forever.