Return of the King One Film to Rule them All

Opening Remarks

All good things must come to an end. So it is with Peter Jackson's exhilarating adaptation of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, and it is indeed a bittersweet parting. While we still have the extended edition to look forward to, the two-year journey - twice the length of the quest itself - has ended. I can only imagine the emotions of those who immersed themselves in this, the finest of worlds, for several years.

But as King Theoden says as he prepares to lead his troops into battle against insurmountable odds, "If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!" In this, Jackson and his team have succeeded, meeting and, though it hardly seems possible, exceeding my astronomical expectations.

Picking Up the Slack

My biggest concern for The Return of the King was how they were going to squeeze in nearly half of The Two Towers. I needn't have worried. Though it necessitated some deviation from the book in terms of chronology, scriptwriters Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Phillippa Boyens interwove the crucial scenes of the epic’s final third with admirable skill. As a result of the shift, the most drastic character developments - particularly of the hobbits - are averted to the final film. Although I have spent time speculating on which scenes may be included in the extended cut, at no point did the theatrical version seem to me to be incomplete. In fact, it was the only one of the three films against which I could make no major complaint. Such was the insight of the scriptwriters and the talent of the cast that the changes upheld the integrity of the characters and heightened their emotional impact upon the audience.

The White Wizard

One of the trilogy's most complex and brilliantly acted characters, Gandalf (Ian McKellen) operates on a different plane than the rest of the Fellowship. Although he cannot bring about the destruction of Sauron, he remains the greatest power of good in the trilogy. Each of the films brings with it a new manifestation of this ancient being. In Fellowship, age and the troubles of the world seem to be taking their toll on him. He is bent, frazzled, weary. Awash with uncertainty, he becomes a rather curmudgeonly old man. Towers sees him renewed, elevated to the status of white wizard, blinding in his splendor. It is Gandalf, but he is detached, enveloped in a glowing mystique. He seems more supernatural ally than friend and mentor.

In Return, his personality begins to emerge once more. He is more human, deeply concerned about the fate of Middle Earth and of his friends in particular. Yet the weariness that encased him in Fellowship is absent here. He conjures no great magic in this darkest hour to counteract the forces of evil but stands as a stabilizing force, a calm amidst the storm.

This is the only film in which Gandalf's whereabouts are never in question. We know that his departure from Aragorn takes him directly to Minas Tirith. But he selects for himself an unlikely companion: Peregrin Took, with whom he has lost his patience on numerous occasions. It might even be argued that Pippin was responsible for Gandalf’s fall in Moria, as it was he who alerted the orcs and likely they, in turn, who awakened the balrog. Now, after so many false steps, Pippin has the chance to prove himself to Gandalf, and their developing relationship is one of the most tender aspects of the film.

The Future King

Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), the monarch to whom the film's title alludes, must now step up and accept his destiny as King of Gondor, meanwhile convincing Theoden to honor the old alliance between Gondor and Rohan and come to Minas Tirith’s aid as it faces attack. So formidable is this foe that Aragorn risks calling upon the legions of dishonored undead to repay their debt by helping to defeat Sauron’s army. His authority established, he leads the troops into one last climactic battle, knowing that no military victory can succeed if Frodo fails in his quest but hoping to keep Sauron's Eye off of Frodo long enough for the task to be completed. His heart is burdened, meanwhile, with the knowledge that Arwen has chosen to seal herself to his fate and will soon die if the Ring is not destroyed.

A Fading Lord

As war rages and his idyllic realm darkens around him, the stoic leader of Rivendell (Hugo Weaving) must come to grips not only with the departure of his people from Middle Earth but with his daughter Arwen's (Liv Tyler) decision to forgo her Elven inheritance in favor of a mortal life with Aragorn. Call me unromantic, but I always found Arwen's choice terribly frustrating. I couldn't imagine turning my back on my people and on immortality for the sake of romance, even with one so noble as Aragorn. But until the films, I never stopped long to ponder the heartache she must have caused Elrond. Weaving brings the subtlest of nuances to this noble Elf Lord, allowing just the tiniest trace of emotion to carve his statuesque features. Yet in those moments, we can see how deep his love for his daughter runs. Of all the elves in Middle Earth, it is he who most moves me.

The Odd Couple

Speaking of elves, He Whose Likeness Must Be Attached To Tweens' Lockers nearly fades into obscurity here. Legolas (Orlando Bloom) elicits a sigh when his eager face and golden tresses grace the screen, but we see little of him beyond the battle scenes. Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) fares a little better, being the gruffer and more talkative of the two, but the pair are easily the least visible remaining members of the Fellowship in this film. The friendship Legolas and Gimli have developed is at the heart of most of their scenes here; in one exchange, when Gimli states his wonderment at the idea of dying fighting alongside an elf, Legolas replies with the query, "How about fighting alongside a friend?" For the most part, though, the elf is silent; I would be willing to bet Bloom had more lines in Pirates of the Caribbean than the whole of Lord of the Rings. However, Legolas provides a good sense of the solemnity and ethereal beauty of the elves, contrasting Gimli's earthiness. He also struts his stuff as a mighty warrior, particularly in one most unTolkienish but captivating stunt; his and Gimli's running tally of felled enemies is an amusing if slightly distracting affirmation of their unusual friendship.

The Steward and his Son

I always liked Faramir (David Wenham), so I was distressed when Towers presented him in such a largely unsympathetic light. Prior to seeing Return, I saw the extended cut of Towers and was pleased to see the Faramir I knew emerge from the added scenes. In Return, Faramir seems sinister no more. Rather, he is an ordinary man living in the shadow of Boromir (Sean Bean), the fallen older brother favored by his father Denethor (John Noble), steward of Gondor. He is desperate to win the love and respect of Denethor, who fears the rumors of Aragorn's return and refuses to acknowledge the inability of his forces to defeat the approaching enemy on their own. Blinded by his determination to break the ranks of also-random, Faramir follows his crazed father's orders to find his efforts a failure once more. One aspect of the novel that is left out of the film is the relationship between Faramir and Eowyn, yet another reason to feel sorry for Faramir; when Eowyn cannot have the man she loves, she settles for Faramir, letting him know yet again that he is second best. Faramir's lifelong misfortune seems to stem from the steward, who comes across as quite a vile character: dour, paranoid, and perfectly willing to tell Faramir to his face that he wishes it had been his younger son who died.

Warrior Princess

Women do not figure largely in Lord of the Rings, but when they appear they certainly make an impact. Frustrated by her inability to play a direct role in the defense of her people, Eowyn (Miranda Otto) has her opportunity to become the soldier her uncle will not allow her to be. Theoden (Bernard Hill) only wishes for his niece's happiness but does not understand that she will never be satisfied with staying behind when there is a battle to be fought. Crushed by the realization that Aragorn's heart lies elsewhere, she pours her energy into readying Merry for battle, only to discover that he, too, is deemed unfit to ride. At once, Merry becomes a metaphor for herself and a fellow outcast. Inspired by his valor, she sneaks the two of them into the ride for Minas Tirith, where both will have the opportunity to prove their worthiness. While her comradeship with Merry is touching, it is around the relationship with her uncle that her shining moment truly revolves.

Nasty Hobbitses

In Fellowship, Gandalf would probably be considered the standout character. In Towers, it is Gollum (Andy Serkis), the centuries-old wretch who "loves and hates the Ring as he loves and hates himself." In the second installment, he is constantly at war with himself; the vindictive Gollum begins to weaken as the gentler Smeagol is awakened by Frodo's empathy. We watch as Frodo painstakingly earns his trust, only to have it shattered when Faramir tricks him into luring Gollum out of the Forbidden Pool to be brutally interrogated. If Gollum was on the road to eventual redemption prior to this, he takes a U-turn in Return. He becomes cruel and conniving, intending to lead the hobbits to the lair of a ravenous spider. Sam, however, proves a stumbling block to his plans, and we see how malevolent Gollum can truly be in one of the trilogy's most wrenching scenes. Yet it is still difficult not to feel pity for this creature, a computer-generated character brought to life with astonishing realism by Serkis and dozens of animators and technicians. We witness his transformation from Smeagol to Gollum and understand the power the Ring holds over him. His life is a tragedy, but it ends in an ironic moment of triumph and the revelation that without Gollum, the quest probably could not have succeeded after all.

Concerning Hobbits

Although the film's title would indicate that Aragorn is the key figure here and that the focus should be upon the epic battle scenes accentuated in the previews, at its heart Tolkien's tale is about peace and the preservation of a simple life. Thus it is that the hobbits are truly the heroes of the trilogy, which Aragorn acknowledges in a most dramatic and inspiring manner. After all, the first step in Tolkien's journey that would eventually lead to the writing of his epic were the words "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

The Bearer of the Ring

Return is a dark time for Frodo (Elijah Wood), who spends the majority of the film under the Ring's growing weight. As a result, he is generally not a pleasant person; indeed, poisoned by Gollum's lies, he turns on the one person without whose devotion he never would have gotten this far. Wood does a fine job of conveying this deterioration, sprinkled with lucid moments filled with guilt and exhaustion. Frodo, too, is a bit of a tragic character, as his experience as Ring bearer leaves him too changed to enjoy the Shire he toiled to save. And yet the result is less sacrifice than reward, a final peaceful voyage fit for one who has endured so much.

Pint-sized Valor

Throughout the trilogy, Merry (Dominic Monaghan) operates largely as a foil to Pippin. Although both are young and mischievous, Merry is slightly more mature and realizes much earlier the gravity of their situation. As his constant companion, he strives to keep Pippin in line but cannot always protect him from his Tookish impetuousness. Early in the film, another of Pippin's foolish whims lands him a fix from which Merry realizes, to his dismay, he cannot extract him. Up to this point, Merry and Pippin have always been together; their separation is touching and traumatic, and Merry's concern for his friend is tangible as Pippin is whisked away to where he cannot follow.

Yet this is also Merry's chance to emerge as the valiant soldier he wishes to become. We catch a glimpse of this spirit in his impassioned speeches to Treebeard and Pippin in Towers, and in Return he takes it one step further by gearing up to fight in Theoden's army. Finding an ally in Eowyn, he has his moment of victory; together they take on a foe against whom it was thought there could be no successful attack. When at last he and Pippin are reunited, it is Pippin who must care for him in the aftermath of battle.

A Fool's Hope

Ah, yes, Pippin (Billy Boyd), that rogue with the brogue who upstaged Sam in Fellowship. In all of literature, I have never found a character with whom I am more in love than Samwise Gamgee. Yet Pippin has always followed close behind. Thanks to the films, I'm afraid I must have divided affections, for it seems that Pippin has caught up. I suppose I can live with that, since Sam is already spoken for...

Although all of the hobbits are innocent prior to their departure from the Shire, Pippin is the embodiment of naivety. Oblivious to the magnitude of danger facing them and possessing an uncanny magnetism toward mischief, he accidentally endangers his companions time and again. Yet he hasn't a malicious bone in his body. Sweet and good-natured, a laugh and a half, and deeply dedicated to his friends, he can hardly help that trouble is always nipping at his heels. Throughout the bulk of the first two movies, he is virtually unaffected by the unfolding chaos around him; although he does display some courage and good sense after his capture by orcs, his adventures don't seem to make him any more careful or careworn.

At the beginning of Return, he is still the happy young hobbit fooling around with Merry and enjoying a bit too much of the South Farthing's best tobacco. But when his curiosity gets the better of him once again, it leads to a terrifying scene in which he comes into direct contact with the Dark Lord himself. Shell-shocked but rapidly recovering, he does not understand what the consequences of his actions will be until the last minute. In the dreadful moment when he realizes he and Merry are about to be separated, possibly never to meet again, he becomes a frightened child, finally torn from his lifelong friend and only link to the Shire. Without Merry, the prospect of home fades into the distance, along with Pippin's innocence.

Yet just as Merry has a chance to show what he's really made of once he's on his own, a more somber Pippin balances out his prior indiscretions under Gandalf's watchful eye. During this unlikely partnership with the wizard so often confounded by Pippin's foolishness, he earns the respect of Gandalf, who twists the term "fool" to the hobbit's benefit in one of their best scenes together. By the end of the film, Gandalf’s affection for Pippin is as apparent as his affection for Frodo has always been. As I said, I've always loved Pippin, but the scriptwriters and Boyd truly let him shine in the films, particularly this third one. And I don't suppose that exquisite accent hurt, either...

Samwise the Brave

So now we come to him, the fiercely loyal hobbit who, to my mind, has always been the true hero of the trilogy. After Fellowship, I was worried that Sam (Sean Astin) would not be given his due, but Return makes up for his inauspicious debut in the trilogy. The beginning of the film finds him with the difficult task of keeping Frodo from succumbing to the Ring's malevolence as they draw closer to Mordor. Making this especially hard is the fact that Gollum, whom Sam still does not trust, continues to lead them onward, and it seems Frodo's loyalties lie more fully at this point with Gollum than with Sam. The heartbreaking reality of this reversal becomes clear when Gollum tricks Frodo into believing that Sam has stolen their provisions and will soon steal the Ring itself. The anguish of Frodo's rejection is nearly too much for Sam, and the audience, to bear.

But he presses on, devoted to Frodo despite the betrayal, summoning all of his courage to come to the Ring bearer's aid. Frodo's strength is nearly spent at this point, his soul so burdened that he cannot even remember what the Shire looks like. It's up to Sam to do what his master cannot, even to the point of bearing the Ring himself when he mistakes Frodo for dead. After leaving the film, my brother and I both agreed that the one scene we would most like to see in the extended edition is Sam's temptation by the Ring once he decides to carry it. Nonetheless, it feels like the right decision to have left it out of the theatrical version, shortening Sam's solo scenes - re-watching the Rankin and Bass version of Return, even I began to get slightly tired of all of Sam's talking to himself - and heightening the tension by not letting the audience know where the Ring is.

Although Lord of the Rings begins as a heroic endeavor on which the selfless Frodo must embark, it is Sam who comes closest to fulfilling his part in the intricate epic. Only a humble hobbit, accustomed to tending gardens and pining after Rosie Cotton, he musters up the resolve to see the quest completed, no matter what the cost. He snatches Frodo from the jaws of death time and time again and lets his strength compensate for Frodo's weakness in the final leg of their journey. Yet for all his grand deeds, he remains the simple fellow who followed Frodo from Hobbiton, and the task falls to him to preserve the Shire's way of life and keep the story of the quest alive. It seems telling that of all the major characters in the trilogy, he is the only one with a name one would encounter in the world today. And ultimately it is plain old Sam who concludes the masterpiece with the most appropriate of afterthoughts, ready to ease the segue into the Fourth Age.

In the Background

I find it ironic that an epic which contains so many allusions to the evils of technology should require such technology in order for it to be translated to the big screen. The film is gorgeously rendered, thanks in part, of course, to the natural beauty of New Zealand, a place I am now most eager to visit. But a blend of many technologies helped the film to achieve its incredible feel of realism and majesty. From the lighting of the signal fires along the mountaintops towards Rohan to the ominous march of the oliphaunts to the arrival of the fleet of undead, the cinematography and special effects worked side by side to create an impeccable whole.

Howard Shore's score enhances the film immeasurably, somehow capturing the feel of each group of characters and occasion. When the familiar strains of In Dreams swell one final time as our friends part company at the most beautiful and bittersweet of endings, the emotional impact is staggering. The soundtrack itself is well worth purchasing.

Many Partings

Return's three and a quarter hours are filled with many emotional partings before the film brings us to the grandest departure of all, a conclusion truly fit for such a magnificent trilogy. Although very few films have caused me to shed tears, this one did on several occasions. But as Gandalf advises his friends as they see him off for the final time, "I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil." The mere memory of some of those scenes mists my eyes all over again. I have heard many complaints that the ending was too lengthy, but I would not omit one moment from the climax to conclusion. We have, after all, invested nine hours in these characters, more if you count the extended editions. Can't we at least stick around long enough to give them a decent farewell?

Final Thoughts

No book will ever hold a greater place in my heart than Lord of the Rings, and as far as I'm concerned, no film or series of films will ever conquer Jackson's adaptation. He brought to life a world I have always loved but never experienced so fully until now, and I salute him and everyone involved. Now, if he could only manage another foray into Middle Earth with The Hobbit. He's taken me there; I want to go back again.