Ringers' Enthusiasm Rings True for This Tolkien Fan

In 1999, just before I graduated from high school, I went to Barnes and Noble and was shocked by the sight of a display inviting me to enter a sweepstakes for which the prize would be a trip to New Zealand to get a behind-the-scenes peek at the filming of The Lord of the Rings. "They're filming Lord of the Rings?" I gasped before putting in my entry and hoping for the best. Alas, the dream vacation went to someone else, but I spent the next two years in eager anticipation of what I hoped would be a cinematic masterpiece worthy of my favorite book. As I perused the Internet for news, I discovered just how vast the fandom was. I may have felt rather isolated as a Tolkien enthusiast growing up, but the movies brought millions of fans out of the woodwork. And as much as I adore the good Professor and the fantastical realms he created, I quickly learned I was not his most ardent admirer. Not by a long shot.

Ringers: Lord of the Fans, written by Cliff Broadway and Carlene Cordova and produced in association with TheOneRing.net, taps into the frenzy Tolkien has inspired for seven decades. It's narrated by Dom Monaghan, who was catapulted from relative obscurity to superstardom with 2001's The Fellowship of the Ring, in which he portrayed the endearing hobbit Merry, constant companion of the mischievous Pippin, played by Billy Boyd. While Monaghan has the largest role in the documentary, Boyd, Elijah Wood (Frodo), Sean Astin (Samwise), Ian McKellan (Gandalf), Viggo Mortensen (Aragorn), Orlando Bloom (Legolas), Andy Serkis (Gollum), John Rhys-Davies (Gimli) and John Noble (Denethor) all offer commentary, as do director Peter Jackson, screenwriter Philippa Boyens and producer Barrie Osborne. Moreover, the film cuts periodically to a theater where fans in elaborate costumes are waiting five days to see the first showing of The Two Towers, and most of the fan testimonials focus on the movies.

Nonetheless, the movie works it way gradually to the present, so while we never forget about Jackson's epic, Tolkien's is still the primary focus. Monaghan recounts the publication of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, accompanied by a series of trippy Monty Python-esque illustrations. I'm especially amused by the trio of nay-saying critics - among whom is Harold Bloom, with whom I became intimately acquainted through several college English courses - who are silenced by the arrival of a winged C. S. Lewis and W. H. Auden singing Tolkien's praises.

Perhaps my favorite segment is entitled Of Hippies and Hobbits, which chronicles the profound influence Lord of the Rings had on the American counter-culture. Here we are treated to lots of video clips of sixties teens sitting around reading Tolkien and engaging in protests against Ace Books, which published unauthorized editions of the books, much to their author's consternation.

Tolkien societies, a gathering place for those caught up in what one observer called "intellectual hooliganism," began to form in this decade, and musicians incorporated Middle-earth themes and motifs into their recordings. Some, like many of Led Zeppelin's compositions, were impressive, while others - most notably Leonard Nimoy's ultra-campy The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins - were just silly. The marriage of music and Middle-earth has continued over the years, as demonstrated in a special feature that mostly includes footage scattered throughout the documentary itself. Among the contributors to these segments are Lemmy Kilmister of the band Motorhead and Geddy Lee of Rush.

Ringers makes note of the animated attempts at Tolkien - Rankin and Bass's The Hobbit and The Return of the King and Ralph Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings - but the tone is somewhat derisive. While I find Bakshi's vision a little too weird for my liking, he certainly gave it his best shot, and the documentary implies that he was denied the proper resources to do his project real justice. It's less kind to Rankin and Bass, as Monaghan and other commentators make cracks about Bilbo looking like a frog and ridiculous songs being forced upon people at the most inopportune moments. However, it also shows us some fans who cite The Hobbit as their all-time favorite movie, and we hear three different covers of songs from those films, including a haunting version of Leave Tomorrow 'Til It Comes that plays over the credits. I was interested to find out that this was not the first attempt at a film version of Lord of the Rings. One screenwriter got Tolkien's reluctant permission to give it a shot but couldn't find any interested parties, and in the sixties the Beatles put considerable effort into putting Lord of the Rings on the big screen, but their attempts were similarly fruitless. What a combination that would have been!

While Ringers is loaded with experts associated with Lord of the Rings is one way or another, many of the most interesting observations come from ordinary fans. Interviewer Cliff Broadway talks to fans in various locations, while a confessional booth records the ramblings of Comic-Con 2005 attendees, most of whom are garbed as various characters from Lord of the Rings, though there is the occasional Klingon or Jedi. The costumes are truly impressive, especially when we hear all the effort that went into them. My favorite was a Treebeard costume, which looked extremely realistic but difficult to walk and talk in. It's worth a look in the special features at a few of the more memorable Tolkien testimonials. These are undoubtedly some very passionate fans.

Some of them have stories to tell about brushes with Tolkien or folks involved with Jackson's film; others have unusual collections or have put their creativity to use in such famed works of fan fiction as Lord of the Peeps and The Original Pervy Hobbit Fancier's Journal. And then there's the woman in California who created Hobbiton, U.S.A., a walk through The Hobbit settled in an old stand of redwoods and featuring wooden representations of various locations in the book. It has a very homegrown look to it, nothing too fancy, but my eyes about popped out when I saw it, and it's definitely been added to my list of desired destinations.

If you've ever dreamed of moving to Middle-earth, spent a hundred dollars to look like an elf, rhapsodized for pages about your favorite hobbits or read Tolkien's masterpiece repeatedly, give Ringers a look and rest assured you are not alone.

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.

In this Middle Ground, Gollum is Gold

Well, December has come and gone, and with it the second round of frenzy over Peter Jackson’s blockbuster version of Lord of the Rings. (This time, sadly, there was no Burger King campaign to accompany it – I still have to get the Gandalf goblet from last year and more of the toys than I’d like to admit. If they do it for the third movie, I will draw inspiration from my uncle, be proactive, and harass those clerks every single day until I have all of the figures in my possession!) The Two Towers has the misfortune of being the middle volume – no beginning and no end, and an awful lot going on. It is a film I would not recommend to someone who has neither seen the first movie nor read the books, as it is potentially confusing enough for the initiated. Nonetheless, it stands alongside the first movie as a masterpiece, with a few quibbles here and there.

Towers begins with a flashback to Fellowship, this time following Gandalf (Ian McKellen) along his descent after the balrog. The scene provides an impressive opening and effective bridge, reminding us of a significant moment in the first film and foreshadowing a significant moment in the second. Gandalf was unquestionably the most popular character in Fellowship, and the advertisements made no attempt to hide the fact that he would be back. While the return of the beloved character was not so obvious as it was in the Star Trek series (i.e. The Search for Spock), there was little doubt that Gandalf would make an appearance in Towers. Nonetheless, when he displays himself before the awestruck Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Legolas (Orlando Bloom), and Gimli (John Rhys-Davies), it is a spectacular moment indeed, eclipsed only by his dramatic exorcism of King Theoden (Bernard Hill) of Rohan, who is under the control of Saruman (Christopher Lee). Gandalf here is a changed wizard, much more supernatural and ethereal than the kindly, sometimes curmudgeonly old gentleman of Fellowship. McKellen’s acting is again superb, but he spends much less time onscreen in this movie and probably will not get an Oscar nod as a result.

For that matter, because the Fellowship is divided, no one spends nearly as much time onscreen as they did in the first movie, except perhaps Legolas and Gimli. Their unlikely friendship develops further in Towers, with Legolas playing the part of earnest warrior and Gimli serving up generous helpings of comic relief. Legolas manages to pull off some pretty impressive, if sometimes un-Tolkienish, stunts during the climactic battle of Helm’s Deep, and he has some touching moments in relation to his fellow Fellowship members. And, of course, there is the small matter of his status as “too-gorgeous-for-words”... Gimli is gruff and lovable, providing a more experienced source of comic relief in this movie than the innocent mischief of Pippin (Billy Boyd) in the first. Especially enjoyable is the discussion he has with Eowyn on dwarf women and his plea, after telling Aragorn to toss him into the fray of battle, of “don’t tell the elf.”

It’s a good thing Gimli provides the comic relief he does, because Pippin’s role in this movie is so slight as to be practically nonexistent. He can’t have more than about a couple dozen lines in the whole movie, which is a darn shame because the adorable Scottish rogue hooked me so completely after Fellowship. Merry’s (Dominic Monaghan) role is similarly scant, though he does get to deliver a couple of mini-speeches. The Merry and Pippin part of the story is definitely the one that gets the least air time; it comes mainly in two- or three-minute segments, few and far between, in which the young hobbits spent most of their time looking awestruck or terrified. I would have liked to see more of their conversations with Treebeard (John Rhys-Davies), but I also agree that it was the easiest part to cut. What we see of Treebeard is enjoyable; he is looming and deliberate, and he and his fellow ents pull off one of the most impressive scenes in the film when they launch an enraged attack upon Isengard, home of their former ally Saruman.

I complained that Pippin upstaged Sam (Sean Astin) in Fellowship. That certainly is not true here. Sam shares the spotlight with Frodo (Elijah Wood) and Gollum(Andy Serkis) in what I think are the most compelling scenes in the film. Doggedly loyal to Frodo, he continues to protect him at every turn. The flip side of this is an intense mistrust of Gollum, who the two encounter early in the film. While Frodo is able to empathize with the creature, Sam, who has not felt the ring’s weight, sees Gollum only as a contemptible threat. Thus, he comes across as being rather unsympathetic in many of his scenes; at many points, he even seems jealous of Gollum. But he also manages to save Frodo on more than one occasion as the ring grows ever stronger, and he delivers a stirring speech towards the end that is most heartening. In the last scene, when the two ponder whether anyone will ever write tales about their adventures and Frodo acknowledges that he “wouldn’t have gotten far without [Sam],” it is one of the most moving moments thus far in the series.

Frodo, of course, is very important, and we see the ring begin to take control over him. The change is visible when the ring takes effect; his gentle features contort into a sneer, and at one point he turns his dagger Sting upon Sam in his madness. At the same time, the growing weight of the ring allows him to empathize with Gollum, of whom he once said “it’s a pity Bilbo didn’t kill him when he had the chance.” In Gollum he sees a glimpse of his possible future, and he is desperate to believe that Gollum can be redeemed. The two form a bond, and Frodo is the only character to call Gollum by his true name, Smeagol, a gesture which Smeagol appreciates.

Gollum / Smeagol is probably my favorite character in this film. I always had a soft spot for Gollum, and the film portrayal of him is nothing short of perfection. Although Gollum’s body was created with CGI, Serkis acted out all of the scenes with Frodo and Sam in addition to doing the voice work. The character comes across as a split personality: meek, eager-to-please Smeagol and vicious, domineering Gollum. They have different voices and different facial expressions, and their conversations with one another are masterfully executed. The audience is able to see Gollum in a sympathetic light and hope that Frodo will be able to bring about his redemption. With all of the wonderful aspects that Towers has to offer, Gollum is, to my mind, the highlight of the film, and Serkis deserves an Oscar nod for his portrayal.

Aragorn probably has a little too much of the spotlight here, but that’s forgivable. He is the valiant warrior as well as the only romantic interest, at least thus far. In this film, there is still more focus on his relationship with Arwen (Liv Tyler), as she must decide whether to sail West with her people or forsake her immortality for Aragorn’s sake. Tangled up in this is Elrond (Hugo Weaving), her solemnly regal father, who shares a heartbreakingly tender scene with her, and Eowyn (Miranda Otto), niece of King Theoden, whose unrequited love for Aragorn grows as the film advances. Eowyn is the voice of feminism in the film, a woman of Rohan discontent to hide herself away instead of fighting the enemy. She longs to face the foes head-on like her valiant brother Eomer (Karl Urban). The warrior spirit she shows in this film prepares us for an important role she will play in the final film.

King Theoden is a truly eerie presence in the beginning of the film, and his recovery at the hands of Gandalf is breathtaking. As a monarch, he is determined to lead his people to safety and fight the forces that threaten them; as a man, he is devastated at the loss of his only son and emotionally overcome. His evil, Jafar-like adviser, Grima Wormtongue (Brad Dourif), is deliciously sinister, eliciting shivers from the moment he appears. His slimy voice, pale skin, and nonexistent eyebrows add to the picture, making him far creepier than Gollum; when he tries to seduce Eowyn, there is a great urge to slap him in the face. Yet as despicable as Wormtongue is, he may have some small store of compassion holed up inside him; when he hears Saruman’s plan to wipe out the entire population of Edoras, a silent tear trickles down his cheek.

Probably my biggest disappointment with the film was the treatment of Faramir (David Wenham). I always liked Faramir, and felt rather sorry for him. He always seemed to me a sort of everyman, a really decent guy living in the shadow of his more passionate brother Boromir and the more heroic warrior Aragorn. A “nice guys finish last” sort of fellow. I felt cheated when he showed up in Towers. He is scarcely likable at all. He comes across as sinister, brutish, and, as Gollum would say, “tricksy.” He also manages to effectively destroy in a few moments the trust Frodo built with Gollum. Not cool.

The landscapes and cinematic sweeps are again most impressive, though rarely beautiful as they often were in Fellowship. There is very little beauty in this movie; all of the landscapes are harsh and the situations are grim. Likewise, there is much less levity. Towers, on the whole, is quite a downer. But there are moments of triumph and light, from Gandalf’s blaring splendor to Sam’s gentle stoicism. The haunting score that so enhanced Fellowship again comes into play, and as the sweeping theme music of the fellowship creeps into such inspirational moments as Sam’s words of comfort to Frodo, don’t be surprised if you find your heart soaring along with the strings.

Overall, Towers is an outstanding second volume, the most difficult to pull off. It is confusing, as the fellowship is dispersed and there is so much happening at once. It is distressing, and it has no definitive beginning or end. But this is as it should be. We are set up for the final volume, and if the first two are any indication, as I am sure they are, Return of the King promises to be a most glorious finish indeed.

"Well, I Have Two Major Gripes with The Lord of the Rings...

The first is that I wasn't asked to be involved!"

Confessions of a Rabid Tolkienite

A month ago, I never would have thought that by the time we saw my uncle, whose love of Tolkien surpasses even that of my dad, during our Christmas travels, we would not have yet seen the movie which I had anticipated for three long years. I fully expected to be one of those ardent fans lining up outside the theater in a Gandalf costume hours before the first showing. But in the pre-Christmas crunch, we chose patience over fanaticism, and it was two weeks before I stepped into the theater and shared in the conviction of my uncle’s sentiment. A two-fold sentiment: I wish I’d been involved because it was so awesome; I wish I’d been involved because it could have been more awesome. Most Tolkien fans would probably agree.

My uncle flashed a list of grievances he had made during his second viewing of the film, and I believe that most Tolkien purists were compiling lists of their own, whether written or mental, of the most serious deviations from the book. And each list, no doubt, is different. So, keeping in mind the limited amount of time which necessitated many revisions and the impossibility of pleasing all Tolkien fans all the time, I have no reservation whatsoever in giving The Fellowship of the Ring my highest recommendation. My personal grievances are not enough to weigh this movie down.

Hobbiton: When Do I Move In?

Visually, the film could not have been better. I never realized how gorgeous New Zealand is. The Shire is exactly as I imagined it, as are Rivendell and Lothlorien. Sheer visual perfection, from the landscape to the architecture. The less than pleasant places are also impeccable, particularly Moria and the Khazad-dum bridge. I could scarcely keep my eyes on the screen without shuddering. The scenes of Frodo with the Ring on are particularly chilling and effective. Frodo’s mithril coat, the glow of the elves, the magnificent display of fireworks which Gandalf provided, the disgusting orcs and horrifying balrog, the blazing Eye of Sauron... I really don’t see how any of it could have been better. No complaints there.

Can They Pull it Off?

I was worried about the cast. It seems to me that when I first saw the pictures of the cast members on the website, Gandalf (Sir Ian McKellen) was about the only one who looked right. I guess the pictures didn’t do them justice. Not all of the characters looked exactly as I’d pictured them, but they all looked right, despite Frodo’s (Elijah Wood) initial appearance causing deja-vu and hearkening back to Wood’s younger days as Huck Finn. No worries, though; I forgot Huck as soon as Frodo started to speak. And, granted, I’d never pictured Pippin (Billy Boyd) with a Scottish brogue, but it suits him perfectly. Neither did I see hobbits as having pointy ears; did I miss that? I thought that was an elf thing. But it fit. Gandalf conveys power and vulnerability, wisdom and irritability, agelessness and mortality. Aragorn is moody and noble, Borimir well-meaning but weak, Galadriel regal and tortured. The cast is dead on.


Concerning Hobbits

I instantly fell in love with the adorable Pippin, the cheeky scamp who manages to upstage my beloved Sam in the film. The actor playing him nailed him. I get the feeling the director (Peter Jackson) wanted to milk him for all the comic relief he was worth, beginning with an incident involving Merry and fireworks purloined from Gandalf. This was definitely not in the book, but it was enjoyable nonetheless and I couldn’t begrudge the departure. Pippin is definitely the most visible of the three hobbit companions of Frodo. Merry is the least visible. He is Pippin’s companion and little else. More sensible than Pippin but still immature, his personality is about right; he just doesn’t get a whole lot of air time. Their joining up with Frodo is amusing and certainly efficient; it saves a great deal of time to have them stumble across him in Farmer Maggot’s cornfield as they’re stealing his crops. However, it doesn’t say a whole lot about their character. They’re troublemakers from the beginning, and their genuine concern for Frodo is far less evident at this juncture than in the book.

It is Sam (Sean Astin) that upsets me the most. I was more worried about him than anyone else. He is my favorite character in The Lord of the Rings, and it seemed to me that it would be very easy to screw him up. He’s the type of character who could be easily undervalued. And I’m afraid my fears were confirmed. It’s not Astin that bothers me. He did great with what he had to work with. But many of the book’s most emotional moments and lines of most brilliant dialogue involved Sam, and almost all of it was cut for the film. Sam does not dote on Frodo as he should; his contributions are minimal, his personality is smothered.

As soon as I saw Gandalf order Sam to join Frodo on the quest, I knew he would be a disappointment. He shows no inclination to follow Frodo and no excitement at the prospect of seeing elves. His adulation of the mystical beings is mentioned only once, in passing, by Frodo, when Sam tells him in Rivendell that he can’t wait to take off and go home. Wrong! All wrong! And they show Sam releasing Bill the pony outside Moria, but we never see him get Bill in the first place. There’s no mention of Bill Ferny, and Sam’s Radar-esque love of animals is almost entirely ignored. We also don’t know he’s a gardener, and we never hear about the Gaffer, Sam’s beloved father about whom he talks endlessly. He has no poetry, no funny sayings, and not enough depth of feeling. I can only hope that the next movie will make up for it; Frodo and Sam are all alone, so Pippin won’t be able to upstage him this time.

Okay, enough of my hobbit gripes. I can’t complain about Frodo. He’s perfect. My doubts departed very early on. Frodo’s youthfulness is replaced with grim determination, and though his burden is heavy, he never shies away from his duty for more than a moment. Wood’s intense eyes provide windows to Frodo’s soul on several occasions, displaying his struggle against the Ring and his deep concern for those he loves, particularly Bilbo (Sir Ian Holm) and Gandalf. Finally, Bilbo is a pure delight. We don’t get to see him much, which is as it should be, but when he’s around, he’s as charming and witty as the Bilbo I love. From doddering around Bag End trying to convince Gandalf to consume more than just tea to blowing smoke rings, from embracing Frodo to regaling bug-eyed toddlers with his adventures, Bilbo is exactly right. And he gets to say my favorite line of his in the trilogy: “I know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” Bravo!

Of Wizards and Men

Gandalf, as I said, is impeccable. I loved him in the beginning especially, reminiscing with Frodo and Bilbo, impressing the children with fireworks, bearing the disapproving glances of the gentry, bumbling about in the comparatively tiny Bag End, and laying down the law when certain hobbits get out of hand. We don’t have The Hobbit to compare him to here, but he conveys a sense of exhaustion which was not present upon his first meeting with Bilbo. He is the clear leader of the Fellowship immediately after Rivendell, and the Fellowship cannot survive long without him. But he is also cantankerous, cursing irritably to himself after hours of failed attempts to open the doors to Moria and withering Pippin with his rage after Pippin’s clumsiness gives away their position.

Saruman (Christopher Lee), too, is most effective. His part is more extensive than it ought to be at this point, but the scene of his betrayal of Gandalf is very impressive. He is calm, cool, and clearly in charge as he oversees the preparations for battle, which include developing Uruk-hai, a human-orc hybrid. Most of all he is cruel, turning his back on the good for which his white cloak stands and embracing the enemy.

Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) is appropriately dark and brooding. Choosing the life of a ranger over royalty, he is a loner but a leader, instrumental in getting the hobbits from Bree to Rivendell. I missed Frodo’s line at the Prancing Pony, when Aragorn introduces himself as Strider, that a friend of the Enemy would “look fairer and feel fouler” than Strider does. Their meeting is too brief to elicit the necessary trust in this mysterious stranger, especially since there is no letter from Gandalf to corroborate the story. All the same, Aragorn is an impressive figure essential to the Fellowship until the end of the film, when Jackson inexplicably decided to have Aragorn see Frodo leave and let him go. This is very much out of character, and it was the second major gripe my uncle had with the movie.

However, this does allow for a scene involving Borimir (Sean Bean) which does not occur in the book but is very moving. In fact, I prefer this part to the book, as I was never able to react appropriately to the comparable scene in the book. I could never bring myself to like Borimir enough to agree with my dad that his death was the saddest occurrence in the first half of the trilogy. Now I must read it again, with renewed determination to like Borimir. In the movie, it is easy to distrust Borimir and feel fond of him at the same time. His lust for the Ring is borne out of good intentions, and his affection for Merry and Pippin makes it very difficult to dislike him entirely.

Glimmering White and the One Dwarf

Ugh. What was that? The reason I don’t usually subtitle my reviews, I guess... Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) don’t get a whole lot of air time here, Legolas in particular. Both look exactly as I would have pictured them. The stocky dwarf Gimli hides behind an enormously bushy beard and speaks with a gruff Scottish accent. He wields an axe and is fiercely proud of his kinsmen who work in the mines of Moria. Legolas the elf is bright-eyed and slender with long golden hair. He is soft-spoken and gorgeous but deadly with a bow in hand. Both he and Gimli are eager warriors, but they clash because of their prejudices against one another. Though their rivalry contributes to a fistfight in Elrond’s council (not in the book), it doesn’t come to light very often. Their climactic moment of animosity in Lothlorien and ensuing friendship do not carry over to the screen, but I suspect they, too, are developed more fully during the second installment.

Arwen (Liv Tyler) and Galadriel (Cate Blanchett) are very well done. Arwen’s role is bigger here than in the book; she scarcely makes an appearance in the book at all. But she’s only present in Rivendell, and I didn’t mind the increase in her role nearly as much as I thought I would. Besides, it gave me a chance to hear the Elven tongue properly spoken. Anyone who can do that has the nod of approval from me. Lady Galadriel is as ethereal as I had imagined, and her moment of trial with the Ring is terrifying but dead on. My only complaint here is that we didn’t get to see all of the characters’ reactions to her. Most missed is Sam’s, as his interaction with the Lady of the Wood and her mirror is nearly as revealing as Frodo’s. Lord Celeborn (Marton Csokas) looks right, if you’re quick enough to catch him. He’s on the screen for about five seconds. Elrond (Hugo Weaving) looks younger than I would have thought, but his somber face is just what I pictured.

Wrapping it Up...

Had enough? If you’re still with me, you’re probably ready to kill me. I guess I’m making up for lost time here. It’s my come-back review after an unpredictably impossible semester. I promise this isn’t a pattern. It’s just that I have so much to say about this movie, and if this is more in-depth than my review of the actual book, it’s because I have a basis for comparison now. The filmmakers changed a lot, and as a Tolkien devotee I’m going to notice that.

I’m going to note Galadriel’s ten minutes of exposition at the outset of the film, whereas the book began with the preparations for Bilbo’s party and dropped the history bit by bit along the way. I’m going to grumble that Gollum’s history in the film involves his always having been a slimy creature named Gollum, when it seems an important detail that he was originally a hobbit named Smeagol. I’m going to lament the loss of Fatty Bolger, Old Man Willow, and Tom Bombadil... nah, Tom we could do without. But they missed a lot of good stuff in the beginning. I’m going to pine away after Sam’s ballad of Tom and the troll, my favorite song in the book, despite the fact that its only real relevancy is to establish Sam as a poet. I’ll compile a list of grievances a mile long in one lobe of my brain, and in another I will stay riveted to a movie that actually manages to do justice to the finest piece of literature ever written. And when my dad says it just may be the best movie he’s ever seen in his life, I won’t be astonished to hear it.