Mount Doom Sam Declares, "I Can't Carry It For You, But I Can Carry You!"

The Return of the King, the final installment in Peter Jackson's epic film adaptation of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, is filled with moments that took my breath away. Many of them involve innocent young Pippin: his traumatic departure from best friend Merry, his golden-voiced recitation of an old hobbit walking song, his discussion about death with the sage Gandalf. But if I had to pin the "most iconic" award on any one scene in the film, its star would be not Pippin but Samwise, which is something of a relief to me, as Sam has always been my favorite character and I hated to see him overshadowed entirely.

I speak, of course, of the instance capturing both Sam's rustic simplicity and his heroism, which is inspired by fierce loyalty. As the putrid air of Mordor threatens to engulf them, Sam takes comfort in his recollection of the bucolic Shire. "Do you remember the taste of strawberries?" he asks the tormented Frodo, who doesn't. And that's when Sam's great Hero Moment comes. After appealing to his master to be rid of the Ring once and for all, he bellows, "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!" And he does, as noble music swells. Several years ago, I purchased a poster-sized calendar in which the photo for the month of January featured this scene. That calendar hangs on my wall today, still reading January 2005; I never turned the page.

On my recent trip to Salem, Massachusetts, I found myself in Harrison's, a comic book store with the most magnificent assortment of geeky collectibles I've ever seen, short of eBay or Amazon. Their Lord of the Rings selection was especially impressive, so I spent some time looking through the figures. I'm glad I took the time to take each box off the peg rather than simply trusting, as was my initial impulse, that everything behind the front figure was the same. If I hadn't done some digging, I never would have found Mount Doom Sam, the one action figure in the bunch whose allure I absolutely could not resist. Even before I activated the sound chip, I suspected that I would be taking Sam home with me, but when a touch of the button hidden in the rocky brown base yielded "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!" my decision was made.

That sound clip is probably my favorite part of the figure. I only wish that Sam, like the larger LOST figures I have scattered around my room, played more than two clips. The other is the panicked "Throw it in the fire!" which is certainly fitting, but I would have loved the inclusion of the wistful "Do you remember the taste of strawberries?" That would have made this figure just about perfect. (Upon investigation, I see that Mount Doom Frodo is available online, and for about half what I paid for Sam; I'm mightily tempted to unite these bosom buddies, especially since Frodo's lone quote - "I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things" - is my favorite of his lines from the Mount Doom portion, and maybe the whole film.)

As the box announces, Sam boasts 29 points of articulation, including the neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, middle, legs, knees and ankles. The only problem with all the articulation is that the presence of so many hinges makes the figure look a tad clunky in places, like the abdomen and the knees. His feet come equipped with holes that allow him to fit on pegs on the plastic base, but there's no need to keep him there, as long as you understand that getting him to stand up properly on his own two feet is tricky. Of course, like the LOST figures, his feet are a bit ornery about staying in place on the stand as well, though I eventually got them to cooperate.

Sam stands about four and a half inches tall, maybe a quarter of an inch shorter than MacFarlane's Charlie Pace, but Charlie is seated and hunched over. So Sam is considerably smaller than those figures, and consequently not quite as detailed, though the likeness is still quite acceptable. His feet are dirty and covered with hair, and his hands are grimy. On his face is a rather blank expression; I'd read it as determined, but it's rather nondescript. Sam's hair is a wavy brown, and he wears dark pants and suspenders and a lighter shirt and vest. All are so dingy that color is hard to determine, but varying degrees of brownish-green probably covers it. Attached to his shirt is the sheath for the dagger Sting, which is as good as a sword to a hobbit. Sting itself is included too, but you have to get it out of the packaging and stick it in the sheath yourself. If you choose, you can also equip Sam for battle by placing Sting in his hand.

I'm not one to leave action figures pristine in their packaging, but I would recommend hanging onto the cardboard portion of the box. On the front, behind the area where Sam is encased in plastic, is a nifty map of Middle-Earth. The back, meanwhile, includes a description of the circumstances in which this version of Sam finds himself. I can just hear the strains of Shore's majestic score rise up as I read the paragraph, which concludes, "His love for his friend is true, and the commitment to his promise to Gandalf will not be broken." The most pressing reason to keep the cardboard, though, is the instruction on how to install the three LR44 button cell batteries.

Mount Doom Sam is a hardy toy that I expect to have standing on my piano for years to come, with the occasional adventure to more exotic locales, like our neighbor's flooded front yard, where I took him yesterday. (I snapped a picture of him on his base surrounded by water, but I placed the base on an upside-down bowl to ensure the sound mechanism wasn't damaged.) When I was at Harrison's, I think I saw at least four different Frodos, so I suspect there may be as many Sams out there, though it's probably best if I don't look into the matter more closely. If I'm going to have one Sam, this is the one I would have wanted: Samwise the Brave. His proudest moment. I paid 14 dollars for him, and I saw him online for ten. A fair price, I'd say, for my favorite literary character at his finest.