I really, really wanted to like The Hobbit. I was a big fan of the Lord of the Rings, but having read the books, I knew the Hobbit was significantly different and so went in with as open a mind as I could manage. However, it is a bad sign when you go into a movie determined to leave singing its praises, yet when you walk out, the highest compliment you can muster is that there are worse ways to spend 3 hours.

The Hobbit’s main problem is not that it bears too little resemblance to the grandeur of The Lord of the Rings; if anything, it is far too similar. Tolkien’s charming tale, while rich and wonderful, simply does not have enough plot to carry 9 hours of film, and was not meant to be the dark epic that LOTR was. Yet the studios, and Jackson himself, have ignored this fundamental fact and seem to be flogging the little tale for all the money it is worth by stretching it into three films. The screenwriters have added entirely new subplots, and it shows – many of the scenes are merely to showcase the (admittedly stunning) special effects without the story to back it up. Added to which, the characters, who were not fleshed out in the novel the way the members of the fellowship were, are little more than amusing caricatures who are helplessly bounced around from one part of the adventure to the another, endearing but almost entirely interchangeable.

There are enjoyable aspects of it: Martin Freeman makes a wonderful Bilbo. An expert at playing the everyday man, he can make you believe that beyond an affinity for a big couch and a good book, there lies a great and unexpected courage in the little hobbit. Richard Armitage is impressive as Thorin Oakenshield – despite his diminutive dwarfish stature, he is convincing as the strong and tragic leader of a dispossessed people. Gandalf plays a younger, slightly sprightlier version than the one we met prior, but Ian McKellen still carries the mix of humility, kindness and power admirably.

The original Tolkien storyline shines through when it is given screen time: the unexpected party at Bag End, where a flustered Bilbo is sidelined by dwarves invading his home, a game of riddles in the caverns with Gollum (who is characteristically creepy and amusing) and Smaug’s domination of the mountain are all enjoyable and wonderfully depicted, but too short-lived and too crowded out by unnecessary add-ins.

What made The Lord of the Rings so brilliant was its heart. While the big budget certainly didn’t hurt, the series had a real soul to it. One could walk out of those movies feeling genuine hope and genuine despair. Not so in The Hobbit. The passion present in the former movies is missing in this film. I still hold out hope, as the pace improved considerably in the latter half of the film, and it will be difficult for the studios to stuff much more padding into the plot.

The initial instalment of the Hobbit trilogy sets it up as very much a sequel to the Lord of the Rings. Like many sequels, you’re happy to see the faces you loved so much in the originals and the familiar score and landscapes are pleasing. However, the magic is gone. Half of the Hobbit’s quality hinges on the audience’s deep, abiding love of its predecessor. On its own, it is a somewhat bloated, mildly enjoyable fantasy movie which will have outstayed its welcome by the third instalment. Walk in with low expectations and you’ll be satisfied, but do not (as many have done) rewatch The Lord of the Rings as a preview of what is coming. The Hobbit still has big shoes to fill.