Tonight, renowned humorist Garrison Keillor - a man hailed by some as
the next Mark Twain - brings his nationally broadcast radio show, Prairie Home Companion,
to my own little neck of the woods. His arrival has been eagerly
anticipated since the date was first announced this past fall. Yes, here
in Erie, Pennsylvania, we’re serious about Prairie Home Companion.
It could be our atmospheric affinity with Minnesotans; Garrison will
feel right at home when he steps out on the Erie sidewalk and his hair
follicles begin to frost over. It could be the considerable population
of Lutherans, whose antics Garrison so aptly captures in his skits and
hometown yarns. Or it could be the fact that although Erie is one of the
largest cities in Pennsylvania, it’s podonk enough that its residents
almost feel like we live in a small town like Lake Wobegon. Whatever the
reason, Erieites snatched up all of the tickets in a few hours and will
watch in glee tonight as Garrison picks apart our hometown on the stage
of the Warner Theater for all those tuning in to National Public Radio
to hear.
In the long hiatus between the purchasing of the
tickets and the watching of the show - and the shorter breaks between
the weekly broadcast, which I’m not always able to catch - I kept the
edge off my hunger with A Prairie Home Christmas, which sits near the top of my Essential Christmas Albums list. This double-CD set spanning several years of PHC
Christmas specials is packed with warmth, humor, and music in just the
right proportions. All the tracks are worthwhile; I’ve highlighted the
ones that stick out most in my mind.
Disc 1
Christmas Time’s A-Comin’
Jordan/Carols
Shop for Christmas Presents - One of my favorite tracks on the album. Generally, while there is no dearth of talented musicians on PHC,
it is the zany humor that really gets me going. When you combine the
two, it’s an especially welcome treat. This track begins with Garrison
complaining to Santa about all the work involved in Christmas shopping,
leading to Santa’s stern admonition to “shape up and shop.” He’s backed
by a choir singing, to the tune of Lonesome Valley, encouragement
to the weary mallers: “You’ve gotta shop for Christmas presents. You’ve
gotta do it by yourself. Nobody else can do it for you. You’ve gotta
shop for Christmas presents by yourself.” He does manage to drop a few
colorfully illustrated hints along the way, however. If you’re ever
stuck for a gift, just remember dried food, stamps, and underwear and
you’ll be just fine!
Scrooge - The obligatory nod at
Dickens comes this time with a theatrical twist. Walter Bobbie is an
actor who just can’t summon up Scrooge’s curmudgeonly spirit. His
nice-guy antics seem harmless enough until the ghost of Joanne Marley
reveals to him the negative impact his untraditional performance will
have on the theater.
Children, Go Where I Send Thee
The Twelve Days of Christmas
- Truly one of the most insufferable songs in the Christmas carol
canon. I’m not one to dislike Christmas music, but even I’ll admit this
little number has given me a headache from time to time. And as if it
weren’t hard enough to remember all those obscure and, frankly,
ludicrous gifts, there are half a dozen slightly different versions
floating around. Garrison plays on the irritation factor of this
song-that-never-ends, creating my all-time favorite rendering of the
song. This is sound effects man Tom Keith’s shining moment as he pumps
all his energy into absurd vocal representations of the gifts. The
result is as hilarious as it is abbreviated.
Christmas Gifts for the Staff - One of the most ridiculous of the tracks, this sketch has Garrison single out several significant members of the PHC
staff and present them with Christmas gifts purchased with the profits
garnered from a dubious business deal with a casino in Sparks, Nevada.
The gifts range from the laughably luxurious - a jumbo jet, a 50-foot
limo, and a farm - to the pathetically paltry - a nonexistent dog. This
is wacky Garrison at his best.
If It Doesn’t Snow on Christmas
- This track is actually the reason we bought the album. This was my
dad’s favorite Christmas song as a kid, but he couldn’t find a recording
of it anywhere. When my mom happened across this, she had to get it for
him. The song, a cute little soliloquy by a kid worried about how
Santa’s going to make it to his house if there’s no snow on Christmas,
is performed by John McDonough, the same fellow who played Santa in Shop for Christmas Presents. Interesting contrast...
Settin’ By the Fire
- This here’s my anthem. A nice laid-back tune about a person content
to just sit by the fire with her dog and while her days away, not caring
about anyone else’s expectations. Not too Christmassy, but it has a
cozy wintry feel about it.
Nothing But a Child - This
is probably my favorite serious religious song on the album. It’s
performed with gusto by Robin and Linda Williams, frequent PHC
contributors whom Garrison has called a more impressive duo than Simon
and Garfunkel. They certainly do a nice job with this tune, which
reminds us that Christmas all started with “nothing but a Child,” so at
this time of year “we all can be children for a while.”
Christ Child’s Lullaby
Nowel: Owt of Your Sleep
Bach’s Christmas Oratorio
- An interesting blend here of the humorous and the serious. This is
mostly an amusing tale about poor Bach’s attempts to write a Christmas
oratorio while working for a bunch of lunkheads teaching music to a crew
of untalented pre-teen boys. But when he finally does finish his work,
we get to hear bits of this deeply religious song, and it leaves us with
a sense of awe and majesty, as well as sadness that this composer was
not properly acknowledged during his own time.
Disc 2
A Polish Christmas with Walter Bobbie
Det Kimmer Nu
Oh How Lovely is the Evening
Silent Night
- A very fun, bluesy take on the song. Not very silent sounding, but
nonetheless one of my favorite renditions of the classic carol.
Nine Lessons and Carols
- My dad complains about this track because it treats Christmas with
such cynicism. It’s true, this is not a very heartwarming look at the
holidays. But it is a hilarious peek into the chaos that mars the
holidays of most families out there from time to time. The series of
vignettes focus on various members of a particular family as they
prepare to gather together for Christmas. Each discordant scene is
followed by an ironic snippet of a carol extolling the virtues of home.
You may never listen to “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” quite the same way
again.
Carol of the Children
Mr. Bergy’s Christmas
- Here at last is the News from Lake Wobegon, the segment of each show
in which Garrison stands up and weaves a tapestry of life in his
imaginary hometown, seemingly introducing threads on a whim and leaving
others dangling. It’s a long time to sit and listen to one person talk,
but Garrison is a master storyteller, and somehow it all comes together
in the end. This particular tale is infused with little gems of wit but
its overall tone is wistful, bemoaning the fact that nothing can ever be
quite as nice as we’d like it to be, or as we remember it being when we
were young. A rather sobering monologue.
Solstice Medley
The Christmas Pageant
- Mostly religious with splashes of humor, this is the traditional
Christmas pageant, including everything from the holy family’s arrival
at the inn to the journeys of the shepherds and wise men and underscored
by several carols.
There are Angels Hovering Round / O Little Town of Bethlehem
- Although it wasn’t drawn from the same performance, this feels like a
natural conclusion to the pageant sketch and makes for a nice
understated finale to the album.
Christmas may be over, but A Prairie Home Christmas
is worth a listen at any time of the year. I’d recommend it to
long-time fans as well as the uninitiated; this album may just make you a
regular listener.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Thursday, January 8, 2004
Return of the King a Soundtrack as Enchanting as the Film Itself
The Voice of Middle-earth
One of the most satisfying aspects of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy is its score, through which Howard Shore developed the themes running through the films with the intricate textures of his music, evoking the rich tapestry of Tolkien’s world with breathtaking skill. Listening to the music on its own, it is easy to visualize the characters and situations that accompany it; in context, it provides more than a backdrop. Playing as vital a role in the success of the film series as the New Zealand’s majestic landscapes, it provides the voice of Middle-earth.
Most of this third soundtrack repeats and builds upon themes already established in the first two. We have the pastoral hobbit music, which makes brief appearances throughout the soundtrack before dominating the final two instrumental tracks. More predominant is the music of Rohan, a theme mixing valor and despair through the plaintive strains of a fiddle, and the tentatively triumphant theme used to indicate moments of great bravery. Here, too, are the dark, pounding choruses of the orc hordes and Sauron himself and the ethereal Elven choirs, not to mention the Gondorian theme characterized by Sir James Galway’s wistful flute. Most tracks interweave despair with hope, evil with good, building up the tension that will finally explode during the climactic tracks.
Track List
1. A Storm is Coming
2. Hope and Memory
3. Minas Tirith
4. The White Tree
5. The Steward of Gondor
6. Minas Morgul
7. The Ride of the Rohirrim
8. Twilight and Shadow
9. Cirith Ungul
10. Anduril
11. Shelob’s Lair
12. Ash and Smoke
13. The Fieldsof the Pelennor
14. Hope Fails
15. The Black Gate Opens
16. The End of All Things
17. The Return of the King
18. The Grey Havens
19. Into the West
I won’t review each of the individual tracks here, but I will give particular attention to those which had the most powerful impact on me. The whole of the soundtrack, indeed of this and the prior two soundtracks, builds up to tracks 15 through 18. In the first two, evil is unleashed with unmatched ferocity, yet the pervading aura of gloom and doom provided by the booming choruses and percussion gives way to moments of hope and victory accentuated by Galway’s flute and Renee Fleming’s soprano. These tracks resound with great and terrible majesty, making way for the final two, which bring resolution to the most beautiful themes in the trilogy.
“My Friends, You Bow to No One”
The nearly 10-minute-long title track begins on a hushed note with a return to the themes of courage, hope, and Gondor itself before yielding the floor to Viggo Mortensen, whose regal Elvish chanting gives a nice authentic flavor to Aragorn’s acceptance of the throne. Then it is the haunting chords of the elves themselves as Arwen and Aragorn reunite. But it is the theme of friendship which resonates most strongly here, the stirring melody featured in The Breaking of the Fellowship which I consider the main musical theme of the entire trilogy. It is whenever this theme reappears that the heart truly swells. Here, as it intermingles with the whimsical hobbit motif and the magisterial tones of Aragorn, the theme provides the support for his thrilling acknowledgment of the hobbits’ contribution to the quest, a gesture as simple and grand as the halflings themselves.
”We Come at Last to the Breaking of our Fellowship”
One of my favorite film finales is the ending scene of Ghost, which features a gentle orchestral version of Unchained Melody to accompany the image of Sam being engulfed in light and, after a touching farewell, making his way into the next life. Such is the scene here, although it is more than one theme being developed. Hints of the courage theme and the elegiac strains following Gandalf’s fall creep into The Grey Havens, but for the most part the track makes a very tender, hesitant transition from In Dreams into this film’s end-credits anthem, Into the West.
While there is an undercurrent of sadness, the pervading sense is one of acceptance and peace. Gandalf now leaves his friends on his own terms, imparting comfort in a scene as placid as his first departure was tumultuous, while Galway’s whistle acts as a whisper on the wind, summoning Frodo to a land far beyond the burdens this life has placed upon him. And so he follows, to meet the sunrise with his mentor, his dear uncle, and the noblest of elves, but carrying with him the undying love of Merry, Pippin, and most especially Sam.
”Death is Just Another Path”
Of the three songs that grace the credits of each volume of Lord of the Rings, Into the West is my favorite. A companion to both The Grey Havens and In Dreams, the song, performed by Annie Lennox, hearkens back to Gandalf’s heartening words to Pippin as they watch the enemy’s monstrous battering ram pound its way into the city. Having experienced death first-hand, Gandalf is uniquely qualified to give the comfort Pippin seeks. We cannot say for certain if the wizard speaks from this authority or has merely woven a beautiful web of words in which to entrap his young charge’s terror, but faith that he speaks the truth carries us until the end of the film, when we, too, can see it just beyond the horizon into which Frodo is about to sail.
I’m still not clear if the words address Frodo directly, in this particular instance, or are meant to apply generally, towards all those who fell over the course of the films in the struggle to defeat evil and all those who will eventually come to this journey themselves. I lean towards Frodo because, after all, this is the conclusion of his quest, and because he and Bilbo are unique among hobbits in their inclusion on the Elven ships departing West. The song’s courageous undertones seem particularly suited to these weary but intrepid travelers. Yet the film leaves us with the powerful sense that while Frodo has taken an unusually direct path, those distant shores are not for him and Bilbo alone.
”Why Should Your Songs Be Unfit for My Halls?”
I realize I have gone out of order here, but that is only appropriate given the surprising nature of this track. As inspiring and beautiful as those last three tracks are, they also provide exactly what I anticipated. I expected a glorious conclusion, a sweeping return to all of the trilogy’s loveliest themes, particularly In Dreams, and a haunting aural actualization of the Grey Havens with all its emotional import. No less did I presume the final end-credits song would focus upon Frodo’s departure from the Havens. My expectations were gorgeously met, but it was The Steward of Gondor that left me open-mouthed, in no small measure because it caught me completely off-guard.
After the extreme diminution of his role in Towers, I wondered if Pippin might be lost in the shuffle in Return. I decided to trust the scriptwriters to allow Sam to carry the day - and Astin, I knew, would rise to the challenge - but I wasn’t even certain what I wanted out of Pippin besides more air time than Towers allowed him. Although I fell instantly in love with Boyd’s cheeky portrayal in Fellowship, the depth and sincerity he brought to Pippin in Return astonished me, and the scriptwriters’ decision to give him some of the most powerful scenes in the film left me deeply impressed.
This track finds Pippin in the service of Denethor, depraved Steward of Gondor. In the face of the lord’s grief over the death of his son Boromir, Pippin rather rashly offers himself in payment of the debt left to him when Boromir saved his life. The finality of this decision causes him to stumble as he pledges lifelong allegiance to Denethor, whose unkindness to his remaining son shocks Pippin. The lord is decent enough to the hobbit, but watching him gorge himself in his empty hall as his son rides to near-certain death leaves a bitter taste in Pippin’s mouth. Adrift in the midst of this grotesque grandeur, finally aware of how bleak the future of Middle-earth looks, he receives the request of a song from his new lord and master.
We have seen Pippin sing before, once in the extended edition of Fellowship and once near the beginning of this film. Both times, it’s a rowdy drinking song which includes dancing on the table by him and Merry. We get the sense that Denethor finds Pippin amusing, and he probably intends to use him more for a court jester than anything else, so it is most likely this type of entertainment that he seeks from his young servant. But as so often is the case in literature, it is the “fool” who speaks most wisely here.
We sense that Pippin’s hesitation stems not only from a sense of inadequacy but a reluctance to accept the full burden of knowledge of the horror about him; once he puts his fear into words, there can be no going back to the bliss of ignorance. The two and a half minutes leading up to his performance are the aural equivalent of a looming thundercloud about to burst until the unsteady advent of Boyd’s dulcet tones which echo funereally through the hollow halls of Minas Tirith. The words are Tolkien’s, from an old walking song written by Bilbo, and the Celtic flavor suits Boyd’s exquisite accent perfectly. The lament is made all the more powerful in the film by phenomenal editing, which turns the song into an elegy for Faramir’s doomed troops.
Boyd’s stirring a capella delivery of the song imbues each word with such weight that we truly get the sense that the enormity of the war has all come crashing down on Pippin in this single scene. The word “edge” in particular carries a bone-chilling quality, reflecting Pippin’s fear that the end of all things is at hand, while “fade,” the heartbreaking final word which he is barely able to verbalize, carries with it the intensity of his love for the Shire, which he now believes he will probably never see again, even if, against all odds, the quest should be successful. He is an innocent swept up in matters far beyond his control, and his wistful vocals allude to all those whose simple lives have been interrupted and endangered by the catastrophe of evil.
The inclusion of this stunning track alone is enough to recommend the album by, not to mention the Kleenex-worthy final three tracks. But the entire soundtrack is a masterful work which eases the long wait until Return makes it onto DVD. A must-have for anyone moved by the film.
One of the most satisfying aspects of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy is its score, through which Howard Shore developed the themes running through the films with the intricate textures of his music, evoking the rich tapestry of Tolkien’s world with breathtaking skill. Listening to the music on its own, it is easy to visualize the characters and situations that accompany it; in context, it provides more than a backdrop. Playing as vital a role in the success of the film series as the New Zealand’s majestic landscapes, it provides the voice of Middle-earth.
Most of this third soundtrack repeats and builds upon themes already established in the first two. We have the pastoral hobbit music, which makes brief appearances throughout the soundtrack before dominating the final two instrumental tracks. More predominant is the music of Rohan, a theme mixing valor and despair through the plaintive strains of a fiddle, and the tentatively triumphant theme used to indicate moments of great bravery. Here, too, are the dark, pounding choruses of the orc hordes and Sauron himself and the ethereal Elven choirs, not to mention the Gondorian theme characterized by Sir James Galway’s wistful flute. Most tracks interweave despair with hope, evil with good, building up the tension that will finally explode during the climactic tracks.
Track List
1. A Storm is Coming
2. Hope and Memory
3. Minas Tirith
4. The White Tree
5. The Steward of Gondor
6. Minas Morgul
7. The Ride of the Rohirrim
8. Twilight and Shadow
9. Cirith Ungul
10. Anduril
11. Shelob’s Lair
12. Ash and Smoke
13. The Fieldsof the Pelennor
14. Hope Fails
15. The Black Gate Opens
16. The End of All Things
17. The Return of the King
18. The Grey Havens
19. Into the West
I won’t review each of the individual tracks here, but I will give particular attention to those which had the most powerful impact on me. The whole of the soundtrack, indeed of this and the prior two soundtracks, builds up to tracks 15 through 18. In the first two, evil is unleashed with unmatched ferocity, yet the pervading aura of gloom and doom provided by the booming choruses and percussion gives way to moments of hope and victory accentuated by Galway’s flute and Renee Fleming’s soprano. These tracks resound with great and terrible majesty, making way for the final two, which bring resolution to the most beautiful themes in the trilogy.
“My Friends, You Bow to No One”
The nearly 10-minute-long title track begins on a hushed note with a return to the themes of courage, hope, and Gondor itself before yielding the floor to Viggo Mortensen, whose regal Elvish chanting gives a nice authentic flavor to Aragorn’s acceptance of the throne. Then it is the haunting chords of the elves themselves as Arwen and Aragorn reunite. But it is the theme of friendship which resonates most strongly here, the stirring melody featured in The Breaking of the Fellowship which I consider the main musical theme of the entire trilogy. It is whenever this theme reappears that the heart truly swells. Here, as it intermingles with the whimsical hobbit motif and the magisterial tones of Aragorn, the theme provides the support for his thrilling acknowledgment of the hobbits’ contribution to the quest, a gesture as simple and grand as the halflings themselves.
”We Come at Last to the Breaking of our Fellowship”
One of my favorite film finales is the ending scene of Ghost, which features a gentle orchestral version of Unchained Melody to accompany the image of Sam being engulfed in light and, after a touching farewell, making his way into the next life. Such is the scene here, although it is more than one theme being developed. Hints of the courage theme and the elegiac strains following Gandalf’s fall creep into The Grey Havens, but for the most part the track makes a very tender, hesitant transition from In Dreams into this film’s end-credits anthem, Into the West.
While there is an undercurrent of sadness, the pervading sense is one of acceptance and peace. Gandalf now leaves his friends on his own terms, imparting comfort in a scene as placid as his first departure was tumultuous, while Galway’s whistle acts as a whisper on the wind, summoning Frodo to a land far beyond the burdens this life has placed upon him. And so he follows, to meet the sunrise with his mentor, his dear uncle, and the noblest of elves, but carrying with him the undying love of Merry, Pippin, and most especially Sam.
”Death is Just Another Path”
Of the three songs that grace the credits of each volume of Lord of the Rings, Into the West is my favorite. A companion to both The Grey Havens and In Dreams, the song, performed by Annie Lennox, hearkens back to Gandalf’s heartening words to Pippin as they watch the enemy’s monstrous battering ram pound its way into the city. Having experienced death first-hand, Gandalf is uniquely qualified to give the comfort Pippin seeks. We cannot say for certain if the wizard speaks from this authority or has merely woven a beautiful web of words in which to entrap his young charge’s terror, but faith that he speaks the truth carries us until the end of the film, when we, too, can see it just beyond the horizon into which Frodo is about to sail.
I’m still not clear if the words address Frodo directly, in this particular instance, or are meant to apply generally, towards all those who fell over the course of the films in the struggle to defeat evil and all those who will eventually come to this journey themselves. I lean towards Frodo because, after all, this is the conclusion of his quest, and because he and Bilbo are unique among hobbits in their inclusion on the Elven ships departing West. The song’s courageous undertones seem particularly suited to these weary but intrepid travelers. Yet the film leaves us with the powerful sense that while Frodo has taken an unusually direct path, those distant shores are not for him and Bilbo alone.
”Why Should Your Songs Be Unfit for My Halls?”
I realize I have gone out of order here, but that is only appropriate given the surprising nature of this track. As inspiring and beautiful as those last three tracks are, they also provide exactly what I anticipated. I expected a glorious conclusion, a sweeping return to all of the trilogy’s loveliest themes, particularly In Dreams, and a haunting aural actualization of the Grey Havens with all its emotional import. No less did I presume the final end-credits song would focus upon Frodo’s departure from the Havens. My expectations were gorgeously met, but it was The Steward of Gondor that left me open-mouthed, in no small measure because it caught me completely off-guard.
After the extreme diminution of his role in Towers, I wondered if Pippin might be lost in the shuffle in Return. I decided to trust the scriptwriters to allow Sam to carry the day - and Astin, I knew, would rise to the challenge - but I wasn’t even certain what I wanted out of Pippin besides more air time than Towers allowed him. Although I fell instantly in love with Boyd’s cheeky portrayal in Fellowship, the depth and sincerity he brought to Pippin in Return astonished me, and the scriptwriters’ decision to give him some of the most powerful scenes in the film left me deeply impressed.
This track finds Pippin in the service of Denethor, depraved Steward of Gondor. In the face of the lord’s grief over the death of his son Boromir, Pippin rather rashly offers himself in payment of the debt left to him when Boromir saved his life. The finality of this decision causes him to stumble as he pledges lifelong allegiance to Denethor, whose unkindness to his remaining son shocks Pippin. The lord is decent enough to the hobbit, but watching him gorge himself in his empty hall as his son rides to near-certain death leaves a bitter taste in Pippin’s mouth. Adrift in the midst of this grotesque grandeur, finally aware of how bleak the future of Middle-earth looks, he receives the request of a song from his new lord and master.
We have seen Pippin sing before, once in the extended edition of Fellowship and once near the beginning of this film. Both times, it’s a rowdy drinking song which includes dancing on the table by him and Merry. We get the sense that Denethor finds Pippin amusing, and he probably intends to use him more for a court jester than anything else, so it is most likely this type of entertainment that he seeks from his young servant. But as so often is the case in literature, it is the “fool” who speaks most wisely here.
We sense that Pippin’s hesitation stems not only from a sense of inadequacy but a reluctance to accept the full burden of knowledge of the horror about him; once he puts his fear into words, there can be no going back to the bliss of ignorance. The two and a half minutes leading up to his performance are the aural equivalent of a looming thundercloud about to burst until the unsteady advent of Boyd’s dulcet tones which echo funereally through the hollow halls of Minas Tirith. The words are Tolkien’s, from an old walking song written by Bilbo, and the Celtic flavor suits Boyd’s exquisite accent perfectly. The lament is made all the more powerful in the film by phenomenal editing, which turns the song into an elegy for Faramir’s doomed troops.
Boyd’s stirring a capella delivery of the song imbues each word with such weight that we truly get the sense that the enormity of the war has all come crashing down on Pippin in this single scene. The word “edge” in particular carries a bone-chilling quality, reflecting Pippin’s fear that the end of all things is at hand, while “fade,” the heartbreaking final word which he is barely able to verbalize, carries with it the intensity of his love for the Shire, which he now believes he will probably never see again, even if, against all odds, the quest should be successful. He is an innocent swept up in matters far beyond his control, and his wistful vocals allude to all those whose simple lives have been interrupted and endangered by the catastrophe of evil.
The inclusion of this stunning track alone is enough to recommend the album by, not to mention the Kleenex-worthy final three tracks. But the entire soundtrack is a masterful work which eases the long wait until Return makes it onto DVD. A must-have for anyone moved by the film.
Tuesday, January 6, 2004
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.
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.
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