Okay, I can’t keep my mouth shut. There aren’t any spoilers. So, for anyone who’s interested, here’s the .
Here’s something very important to understand about Lord of the Rings: Tolkein got upset whenever anyone called it “a novel.” In his mind, his epic tale isn’t a novel, it’s a history of the War of the Ring. It’s important to remember this when reading the books, because the good Professor had no mind for dialogue or character. None. Galdalf sounds like Aaragon sounds like Eowyn sounds like everybody else. The only characters that have any kind of voice at all are the Hobbits… and they all sound like each other.
Except Samwise Gamgee. Only Sam stands out in the book as a real character with a unique voice. And by the end of the book, you can’t help but love Sam. I did.
There are scenes in the history (I will honor Tolkein’s request and not call it a novel) which are absolutely breath-taking. The Mines of Moria, the last stand at Helm’s Deep, the Battle of Pellinor Fields… these scenes are incredible and stick in your brain long after reading the history. But, with very few exceptions, I never felt any attachment to any of the characters, don’t recall any dialogue that caught my ear, nor do I really care if Sauron wins or loses. It’s like reading an account of the Civil War in a 10th grade text book. And Tolkein intended it to be that way.
More than half a century after it is published, here comes Peter Jackson. And he’s on a mission. You could say he’s the Ken Burns of Tolkein. He’s come along and given a soul to the dusty, dry history book. Because if you look at the films, then go back and read the history, you’ll see something. Yes, he’s captured the visual style of Middle Earth, and yes, he’s given a brilliant vision to the battle scenes, and yes, all the races look, feel, speak, and fight differently. But, more importantly, you’ll see Tolkein’s characters come to life with voices of their own.
When Borimir dies in the movie, the scene is heart-breaking. Fighting tears in my eyes, I was watching the power of the ring destroy a strong, honorable, and courageous man. Borimir loved his homeland. He loved his people. And, in the end, he realized the error of his pride, swollowed it, and said what needed to be said. “I would have followed you, my King.”
When Borimir dies in the history, there is no denoument with Aaragorn. There is no, “I would have followed you, my brother.” There’s nothing. Borimir is a plot device. He has no voice of his own. The line, if I remember correctly, that communicates to the reader that Borimir is dead is: “And Borimir died.”
That’s it. Nothing else.
Tolkein purists argue that Jackson’s meddling with the Professor’s vision spoils its purity. I cannot disagree more. While Tolkein reported the events of the war, Jackson is showing us its people. We hear and see and feel the courage of Borimir. We know the tragedy of his failure. We feel the regret pounding through his blood when he dies. And when Aaragorn forgives him, we feel all of that release from Borimir’s soul, just as his spirit slips away. It is a powerful, touching moment that has no equal in the history. Because Tolkein reported the events and Jackson is right there in the trenches, showing us the faces of those who fight for Middle Earth’s fate.
That is why the entire Lord of the Rings series is so spectacular. An achievement beyond comparison. Jackson has taken up where Tolkein left off. And the trilogy’s climax, The Return of the King, is truly the masterpiece Jackson set out to make.
Out of all the films, I can feel the cuts most in this one. I see where difficult editing decisions were made. Reports say the final cut of this film is close to six hours long. You can feel that. You can feel things are missing. But, what is left behind is nothing short of a miracle.
Once again, Jackson has captured the souls of Tolkein’s characters better than the good Professor ever did. The madness of the Steward of Gondor makes you squirm in your seat. The courage of Merry and Pippin, each carrying out their newfound duties makes you boil with pride. Watching Aaragorn makes me remember writing about another general in another world, a man I would follow to the gates of Hell itself.
But there are three moments in this film that moved me more than I can articulate. I will discuss two of them, for they are well-known by those who know the books, but the third… I will be a bit more cryptic about.
First, let’s talk about Shelob.
She is, without any doubt in my mind, the most terrifying thing ever put on screen. I had to force myself to watch with open eyes, cringing in my seat, terrified I’d start screaming at any moment. As I watched the previous films and saw what Jackson did with the orks, the ents, the elves, and Middle Earth itself, I suspected the worst. When I saw Gollum, I knew I was in real danger. The beauty and terror Jackson brings to the screen is haunting, mesmerizing, and spell-binding. And as each visual marvel presented itself to me, I knew — deep in my soul — that Shelob would be a horror from the darkest pits of the abyss.
I was right.
Hear me now, friends: If you know anyone who would have a real problem with Sam and Frodo’s confrontation with this, one of the most ancient horrors of Middle Earth, warn them now. I do not say this out of hyperbole or for dramatic effect. I say this with the most earnest face I can.
Shelob is awful. I will be having nightmares for years.
And with that behind us, let us talk about the best scene in the history. The one that made me stand up and cheer. The one that remains burned in my brain… and the one scene Tolkein purists will be complaining about forever.
I’m talking, of course, about Eowyn and the Witch-King of Agmar.
I give no secrets away. No spoilers. I will only say this.
In the history, Eowyn’s only purpose is for this moment. Everything about her character builds toward it. And Jackson’s rendering of the scene is flawless. My eyes grew moist, my heart beat, and my fingers trembled. I was helpless in his hands. And for that, Mr. Jackson has my undying respect and gratitude.
Finally, let’s come back to little Samwise Gamgee.
Let’s face it: Sam has the best lines of all the films. In the first film, when Frodo leaves the Fellowship, and tells Sam he has to go alone, Master Gamgee utters that famous line. “I know!” he says. “And I’m coming with you!”
In the second film, the last lines of dialogue between Sam and Frodo made me openly weep in front of my father. “Frodo wouldn’t have gotten far without Sam,” the Ring-Bearer says. A line more true than either of them suspect.
Finally, in the third film, Samwise Gamgee once again proves that he’s a friend beyond the meaning of the word. Sam has touched the true heart of loyalty, for it is his innocent love of Frodo that keeps him by his side — no matter what the price. At one point, Sam tells Frodo, “Don’t you go where I can’t follow.” That line crushed me. Neil Peart once wrote, “We will pay the price, but we will not count the cost.” That line sums up Sam quite nicely, I think. But, when Sam and Frodo have reached their final steps, climbing Mount Doom itself, Sam utters a line that made every body in that theater cheer.
You will know it when you hear it.
Others may tell you the beauty of this film is in its technical accomplishments. Others may say it is Jackson summoning the spirit of Tolkein himself that gives it it’s magic.
I disagree. What makes these three films unique is one quality and one quality alone. Peter Jackson not only saw what Tolkein did, but saw what he didn’t do. And he drew forth the power of both.