Peter Jackson's "The Return of the King" - Ben's Thoughts

It's taken me far too long to blog about The Return of the King film. Part of that, I truly believe, was trepidation about how the film would resonate with me. I remembered parts of this movie just being bad. And those parts did not disappoint. They were bad. So bad.

However, in the same moment, parts of the movie were glorious. As both Jacob and Eric noted, the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, translated to the big screen, is awe-inspiring (even with the elephant surfing -- after all, they had to top the shield-surfing of the previous movie). The climax of the film, especially the Frodo, Sam, and Gollum half of the climax, is masterfully done. (More on these two setpieces later on.)

But do the good parts of the movie make up for the bad parts? I'm left uncertain. Like Two Towers, I watched this film in three installments. The first hour takes us to Shelob's Lair and the muster of Rohan. The second hour finishes out the Battle of the Pelennor. And the final hour includes the climax and denouement. But unlike Two Towers, I felt like the pacing here was more uneven. The setpieces, while largely visually spectacular, were interspersed with bad humor and cringeworthy emotional beats. Some of the plotting seems questionable, in light of the intricacy of how the book plays out. Even some of the visual effects felt less impressive than in previous films.

First, touching on a couple of main plot points. Why does the movie have Frodo believe that Sam is eating all of the food? Does that make any sense, given what we've seen to that point? This subplot is in place to awkwardly separate Sam from Frodo so that he can charge in later "unexpectedly" (as if a single viewer didn't believe that Sam wasn't going to save the day after Shelob wraps up Frodo). But at what cost? It effectively deletes Gollum's aborted redemptive arc from the film; gone are the beats such as where Gollum watches Frodo sleep and then Sam foolishly berates him. I know Two Towers covered a lot of that ground already, but Gollum is in full-on villain mode in this film, and I think it is a less complicated, less interesting film as a result.

Second, Denethor has lost all his nuance in the film. I can recognize the beauty of the charge of the Gondorian cavalry, juxtaposed with Denethor slobbering over his dinner and Pippin's melancholy song hovering in the background. It is a masterful piece of technical and emotional filmmaking. But it comes at the cost of Denethor's complexity; the internal conflict; the question of how much of his actions were because of Sauron's corruptive influence and how much because of personal weakness; his moments of true leadership before the final collapse. Even his demise is altered; instead of making the affirmative choice to end his life in the face of his insurmountable despair, here he is knocked back into the burning pyre by Gandalf's horse, of all things, while he is in the middle of strangling Pippin (or something; Pippin spends a lot of this movie screaming randomly with his mouth wide open) and burns up rather accidentally (and then runs and throws himself over the edge of the city? Well, now you're burning alive AND falling to your death, not sure that really solves anything). It's all blockbuster cinema, but I think hewing closer to the source material would have been just as good if not better.

I could go on. Probably the runner-up is the fact that the film spends SO MUCH time on Eowyn in the first two-thirds, and she is completely and utterly forgotten in the final third. At least Tolkien tried to give her some closure. Film Eowyn is just abandoned. But in any case, what continually pulled me out of the movie more than plotting decisions was emotional beats.

I feel like Peter Jackson is fully committed to the emotional poignancy of the book. Return of the King is a wrenching text in many ways, dealing with loss and fear and death and perseverance in the face of hopelessness. And much of the film treats this subject matter well. Aragorn's speech before the Black Gates captures very poignantly and cinematically this particular theme. But boy, are there some duds squatting perversely in the midst of this film.

Pippin's silent shrieking, as the camera tilts wildly, as he grips the palantir, made me cringe and roll my eyes. Merry's goofy smiles at, well, basically everything ("Milady!" he squeaks, with a foolish grin on his face, as Eowyn scoops him up onto her horse, is just one example of many.) Sam's blubbering. His quivering bottom lip could receive its own billing in the credits. And Frodo's smiles. Oh, those smiles. I am not one to read unintended undertones into films where I think the filmmakers did not intend them. But the cinematography, angles, lighting, and expressions the director has these characters make (Frodo and Sam in particular) leave me firmly convinced that Sam and Frodo are either a current romantic item or are desperately longing to become one. (Frodo actually kissing Sam at the Havens, but slighting Pippin and Merry, does nothing to discourage this view.)

And oh, that bedroom scene. The bedroom scene.

Gandalf's forced laughter. The members of the Fellowship coming in one by one (even the ones that we never saw Frodo develop a relationship with or even interact with, like Legolas and Gimli). The hobbits jumping on the bed. Then more jumping on the bed. Then Merry or Pippin randomly hurling themselves backwards onto the bed. Then Sam's entrance, with the sun shining so fake behind him and Frodo's lopsided, contorted expression of love on his face. That scene ripped me out of the movie so much the first time I saw it, and still does today. It's one of those scenes that makes a moviegoer embarrassed to be in the theater when it comes on.

There is much to love about the film. The scope of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields is breathtaking. When the Rohirrim arrive, and the CGI horsemen line up on the hilltop, you cannot help but feel something like joy stirring within you. I think the end of Two Towers does it a little better, with Sam's speech interspersed between images of victory halfway across the world, but this is good too. Really, anything in the film that involved Bernard Hill as Theoden, and Miranda Otto as Eowyn, was phenomenal. Bernard Hill in particular steals the movie once again. His frustrated statements about Gondor at the beginning, juxtaposed with his selfless decision to ride to their aid when they ask for it. His speech to the men at Dunharrow and then before the final battle, again addressing that need for valor and perseverance, even in the face of hopeless, soul-crushing odds. "We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor," Gamling says. Theoden replies, "No, we cannot." And then, after a pregnant pause, "But we will meet them in battle nonetheless." Basically everything about Theoden and Eowyn is perfect in this film, down to the last moment where they repeat their conversation from Two Towers: "I know your face..."

Similarly, the scene preceding the destruction of the Ring is masterfully done. Frodo succumbing to the Ring's seductive influence is just as terrifying on the big screen as in the text. Gollum's treacherous strike against Sam is unexpected and cruel - Gollum at his most sinister. I loved how Sam's words mirrored Elrond's to Isildur, that we saw in flashbacks in Fellowship, but with a hobbit-like twist that made the desperate plea his own. When I first saw the film, I was frustrated with how Frodo attacked Gollum after his finger had been bitten off, and how that struggle was what led to the Ring going over the edge; I thought that they should have stuck with Gollum slipping and falling like in the book. But upon this rewatch, I find myself pleased with the juxtaposition of Gollum and Frodo: Gollum has literally nothing left but the Ring, to the point of holding it up out of the lava for as long as he can before he is incinerated. Frodo, on the other hand, chooses to live, even if it is just for Sam: "Don't you let go!" Sam shouts, knowing Frodo's temptation of hurling himself after his Precious.

I stayed away from reviewing the film for its major themes, because Jacob and Eric touched on those so eloquently. For what it's worth, I think it conveys a powerful message in a (generally) effective way. As a work of entertainment, it's less effective, because of the sketchy parts I outlined above. All in all, a good film, but not a great one. Fellowship is still the best, and I would put this one (surprisingly) behind Two Towers as well.

And that's a wrap, folks!

...who wants to read The Silmarillion with me?

Peter Jackson's "The Return of the King" - Eric's Thoughts

The Return of the King surprised me. My recollection of the LOTR movies was that they got sequentially worse. (Perhaps that's because I'm remembering the Extended Editions that I watched.)

Whatever the reason, I enjoyed the Return of the King almost as much as the Fellowship, if not just as much. Perhaps it resonated with me more this time because of the current state of affairs in the U.S. The theme of the movie is clear -- people riding out in the face of certain death to face unspeakable odds. The Return of the King is about a volitional act, about people deciding they have had enough of the bullying and riding out to meet it. (Note the contrast of the boxed-in survival of the Two Towers.) Rather than waiting for the enemy to come, King Theoden rides out to certain death with his armies -- because it's the right thing to do, and it's better than waiting around for the end to come. The battle scene does not disappoint; the elephants are fun to watch and add a nice flavor to the battle.

In turn, Frodo and Sam's subplot was also far more interesting than in the Two Towers. Gollum is up to his old tricks again, and leads the hobbits into Shelob's lair. At the top of the Stairs of Cirith Ungol, Frodo says he doesn't want to go on. Gollum has a moment where he is baffled and doesn't know what to do; for a moment, it looks like all of Gollum's scheming has come to naught. Gollum simply says, "Go in, or go back." Frodo recognizes the folly of not going on and replies, "Well, I can't go back." A fun exchange to watch. Inside the lair, the spider is delightfully foul, and Frodo struggling in the webs was probably the one of the best scenes of the whole series in terms of creating an actual tense moment.

The film also hits a high point, just like in the book, when Frodo hangs over the edge of Mount Doom, deciding whether to drop the ring into the fires, but is not able to cast it away. Instead, Frodo claims the ring as his own. A truly chilling moment.

At the same time, the rag-tag remains of Rohan and Gondor face the hordes of Sauron at the black gate, ready to die. When Gollum steals the ring from Frodo and falls into the abyss, and Sauron's armies flee, the moment truly feels earned.

In short, I didn't really have much to criticize about this movie. A fun romp with a feeling of stakes. And a great way to end the journey of blogging through every chapter of Lord of the Rings.

Peter Jackson's "The Two Towers" - Eric's Thoughts

A re-watch of the the Two Towers film basically met my expectations -- an okay film overall but too long. It's certainly not as engaging as the Fellowship of the Ring.

The star of the film of course is the computer generated Smeagol. Even though the CGI looked a bit dated, the portrayal and voice acting is fantastic. One of best ideas of this whole film was how they shot the split personality of Gollum -- changing camera angles so it looked like he was having a conversation with himself. It's funny and tragic at the same time . . . and a great way to capture an inner monologue on film.

What disappointed me most on the re-watch was how one-dimensional Faramir is. The book paints Faramir as a dichotomy of his brother, with the will to reject the call to the ring. Instead, in the film, Faramir seems like a brooding bully. Jackson would have done better to stick to the source material. Instead of dragging the hobbits to Gondor (the film), Faramir should have given up his claim to the ring when he learned what it was (the book). I think Jackson's approach was a mistake.

The subplot then plods along so that the hobbits and Faramir are being attacked by Nazgul. Drawn by the call of the Nazgul, Frodo approaches the Nazgul and hands out the ring for the taking. Perhaps this subplot was developed so that there was better trailer eye-candy? Whatever the reason, Sam knocks Frodo down just in time, and the Nazgul misses. Phew. That is intensity.

Not really, especially because as soon as Sam interrupts Frodo's attempted betrayal, Faramir approaches the hobbits and says: "I think we now understand each other, Mr. Baggins. I'm now going to let you go to Mordor."

WHAT???? If anything, Faramir should have all the more reason to take Frodo to Gondor. From Faramir's perspective (without the benefit of having read the trilogy like we have), he has all the more reason to prevent these hobbits from going into the land of the enemy so they can just hand the ring over to Sauron. There is no reason for Faramir to suddenly "understand" what the freak just happened. What a contrived subplot!!!

On the Theoden / Aragorn side, Theoden does a nice job of painting a king watching the downfall of his kingdom. Like Jacob, I actually found his hopeless battle against reckless hate a compelling metaphor for the times.  Lines like "What can a man do against such reckless hate," which rang cheesy while I was younger, seem particularly relevant now.

Peter Jackson's "The Return of the King" - Jacob's Thoughts

One more for the road.

It almost feels strange to at long last write my final post here--about the film version of Return of the King--in part because I wrapped up writing about the novels clear back in April. My, what all we can experience in just 9 months! The years keep flying by, but a full year is still a full year, where anything can happen. By way of comparison: it's now been well over a year and a half since I rewatched The Two Towers for this project, and in some ways, I still feel the same sense of futility and despair I felt then, concerning the seemingly inevitable rise of the forces of ignorance, darkness, and bigotry. "What can men do against such reckless hate?" was and remains the watchword.

But on the other hand, in the year and a half since I last watched an LoTR film, there has at last arisen a genuine resistance of sort against that tide--far more belatedly than I would've preferred, of course, but at least it's there--and suddenly I find that the rapid series of turn-abouts throughout Return of the King resonate as much with me now as Two Towers did in 2016.

Seriously, every few minutes in this interminable film brings some new change in fortune: The orcs are seizing Minith Tirith! But wait, the Riders of Rohan have arrived! But wait, some weird elephant cavalry is making short work of them! But wait, now Aragorn has arrived with the spirits of the dead! Back and forth, back and forth--and these ceaseless and rapid shifts in fortune continue all film long. It can get downright exhausting, even eye-roll inducing, and if you had asked me to rewatch Return of the King just a few years ago, I think I would've grown irritated and finally bored by the whole ordeal.

But just as Two Towers resonated far more with me in 2016 than it did when I was 21, so too does Return of the King at the end of 2017, which has likewise featured an endless series of reversals: His cabinet is even more nepotistic, racist, corrupt, and radically unqualified than we feared! He signs an unconstitutional travel ban as one of his first acts! But wait, the courts have shut it down! And the mass protests have numbered in the millions! But wait, Congress is repealing the ACA without a viable replacement! But wait, the repeal failed! But they're trying again! But they failed again! But now bona fide Nazis are marching in Virginia! But Virginia just flipped even further blue! But now they're passing a tax break for the rich! But now the Dems have won the Alabama senate seat! But now the racist criminal sheriff he pardoned is running for senate! And on and on and on and on. It's absolutely exhausting. Eye-roll inducing. Irritating.

But that also means that the endless reversals of Return of the King feel far more true to real life. Northrop Frye in The Secular Scripture argued that literary "Realism" so-called is reliant on an endless series of cause-and-effect, of "A therefore B," whilst "Romance" is much more a series of "and thens," conceptualizing life as a string of abrupt events. Ironically then, "Romance" structurally feels far more true to life than "Realism," which, despite its pretentions otherwise, does not behave like real life at all!

Which brings me by a round-about way to another reason why it feels strange to be writing this final blog-post: because the implicit message of this film is that nothing ever really ends! As is notoriously known, even after Sauron is decisively defeated, the film just keeps going. There's at least 2 or 3 false endings in there. From a strictly cinematic standpoint, all these fake-out endings just kill the narrative momentum, needlessly stringing out a film that could've easily ended 20 minutes earlier. But from a Romance sort of perspective, all those fake-out endings also feel more true to life! Frodo sails away with the elves and Bilbo at the end, but Sam continues to carry on with the rest of his long, full life after. A big, fat "The End" covers the screen just before the credits roll, but that is also a misnomer: implicitly, Middle-Earth is still barreling forward after the termination of the events on-screen. Life continues--both theirs and our own. Indeed, all of our lives have continued forward since this film first debuted in 2003.

Maybe we, like the forces of Middle-Earth, will enjoy a decisive victory sometime in the near future. Maybe we're in for the long haul on an endless series of reversals. Who knows. The only thing we know for sure is that the story will continue on nonetheless. And for all of Tolkien's wizards, sorcerers, elves, orcs, and magic-rings--and for all of Jackson's CGI, practical effects, make-up artists and post-production--that is what renders the books and the films feeling the most realistic of all. Our most unexpected journey continues, long after we've closed the books and left the theater.

"The Grey Havens" - Eric's Thoughts

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that life is a journey, not a destination. In the spirit of Emerson, I've used this opportunity to peek at our old posts and see how we progressed through the years (along with Frodo and Company).

And what progress! Jacob, Ben, and I have wrote our way through sixty-two lengthy chapters, and between school, and children, and marriages, it's taken a little under three years to complete this project. At the time we started (January 2014), I was just out of law school, Ben had just finished his clerkship, and Jacob was working on his Ph.D.

Since that time, we've visited Yellowstone (June 2015), Capital Reef / Arches / Canyonlands (June 2016), and Yosemite (June 2017). Marriages, and kids, and Ph.Ds happened. Most certainly we have all grown as Frodo and Co. did within Tolkien's wonderland.

The Grey Havens is a haunting chapter that is enigmatic and a pleasure to read.The growth of the hobbits really wouldn't have been apparent without the Scouring of the Shire and the Grey Havens. This is classic hero's journey -- the transformed character(s) return with a boon.

So what is the boon? I would submit that the greatest boon the hobbits bring back to the shire are their changed selves, with skillsets and leadership that allows the hobbits to drive out evil before it fully takes root. Of course, this is a boon that is only seen through the hobbits' acts and deeds. The literal boon is that Sam brings back Galadriel's earth that allows the Shire to heal and grow stronger than before. Most memorable to me (even from many years ago) is how Sam replants seeds of trees that are buffered with a single grain of Galadriel's gift of earth, and of course the mallorn tree with silver leaves (that replaces the old party tree).

Interspersed between these denouements lies Frodo, where Tolkien describes Frodo clutching a jewel and muttering to himself. Indeed, Frodo's behavior foreshadows that he cannot live a life of peace amongst the shire (though he does seem to try). Frodo's war wounds are simply too great:

"Where are you going master?" cried Sam[.]

"To the Havens, Sam," said Frodo.

"And I can't come."

"No, Sam. Not yet, anyway, not further than the Havens . . ."

"But," said Sam, and tears started in his eyes, "I thought you were going to enjoy the Shire too, for years and years, after all you have done."

"So I thought too, once. But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them . . ."

Frodo then embarks on a ship with Gandalf, the elves, to go on a journey to the Havens A haven, in the literal sense, means a place of refuge or safety. Interestingly, it also can mean a harbor or a port, that is to say a place of departure or destination for a ship. (In his descriptions, Tolkien hints that the Havens is both a place of departure and a place of destination.) And Tolkien complicates this description by calling the havens "grey," which signifies images of age, fog, clouds, and blurring.

The only real clue in the text is that "And then it seemed to [Frodo] that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to a silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise." In contrast, "But to Sam the evening deepened to darkness as he stood at the Haven, and as he looked at the grey sea he saw only a shadow on the waters that was soon lost in the West."

I would study those words in church growing up, Lord of the Rings hidden between my bible, and ponder them. At the time, Tolkien's uncertainty left me scratching my head and bothered me. My younger self always wanted a clear answer to what the Havens was.

But now, I appreciate Tolkien's ambiguity. He ends the story in a way that signifies new beginnings. Sam returns home, ready to start his next adventure. Frodo goes on to see a "swift sunrise" in a land with far greener pastures.

In essence, Frodo and his friends become legends, and an older age lives on through the Red Book, reality turning to fantasy as years pass.

"The Scouring of the Shire" - Eric's Thoughts

The “Scouring of the Shire” is a story within a story—a self-contained dramatic arc that probably could be read independently, understood, and enjoyed as a great work of literature unto itself without having read one page of Lord of the Rings.

Structurally, the story begins with the hobbits Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo approaching their old stomping grounds. They’ve had a long journey and are “homeward bound” at last. But the expected hero’s welcome is an illusion—instead they are greeted by looming gates, skepticism, fear, and silly regulations. Tolkien makes clear that the Shire, painted earlier in the story as a utopia of green countryside and peaceful farmers, has been invaded and touched by the world of men.

Tolkien plays with structure even as he embraces it—the “Scouring of the Shire” is oddly out of place with the rest of the novel. As we were taught since grade school, after the story’s climax comes the resolution.

But The Lord of the Rings does not follow this structure. The climax of Tolkien’s Middle Earth epic is undoubtedly the destruction of the Ring earlier in “Mount Doom.” There, Sam and Frodo confront Baggins old nemesis Gollum, spare him yet again, and the doom of the story unfolds. The story then engages in resolution chapters, which are to be expected. But then LOTR suddenly diverges into a sub-plot (Scouring of the Shire) that is mostly unrelated to the main tale.

Interestingly, not one mention of the Ring is made in “Scouring of the Shire.” The Scouring of the Shire tells of a different arc—a washed up villain who was rejected and defeated in Middle Earth takes up the only abode he can—the place not up to speed on current events. Of course, what is interesting is that “Sharkey” is not the cause of the problem—and merely takes up an abode where Lotho already had created a tyrannical regime. Sharkey merely steps into Lotho’s shoes and attempts to increase the harm. So the root of tyranny in the Shire was actually the result of only one hobbit’s greed.

Of course, while this chapter could be read independently from The Lord of the Rings as a short story, the characters of Merry and Pippin are enriched because of this chapter—Scouring changes Merry and Pippin from clueless hobbits to bold leaders. Frodo benefits from the cruel mercy he bestows upon Saruman. (And it is nice to see the villains finally turn on one another.)

In short, Scouring of the Shire certainly carries deeper depth because of the backstory of Lord of the Rings, but the full LOTR treatment is not necessary here to appreciate this self-contained tale. “Scouring” has an immediate problem, rising tension, and a climax (homeward bound crew encounters something sinister afoot with the lack of reception coupled with mountains of regulations à confrontation with Shiriffs à confrontation with men à a battle involving hundreds of men and hobbits à a twist that Lotho was killed and replaced by Saruman à villains killing each other off). Scouring is really its own short story contained within the greater work of the novel.

As Ben and Jacob point out, there’s a lot going on here. Tolkien fills his narrative with jabs at the industrial world, describing a mill with many gears and wheels. In his description, Tolkien appears to question why we need faster and more efficient contraptions, especially if the price of such contraptions is pollution. And, obviously, Tolkien posits the silliness of the government state that interferes with a free-market farming economy. Tolkien also has fun poking fun at communism, where the hobbits talk about “sharers” that come along and collect the food and only give it to Lotho and his cronies. In short, Tolkien’s thesis seems to be that a farming culture free of technology and government intervention seems to be the ideal. Of course, Tolkien advances this ideology even as as he mocks it—the only reason such a world can exist is because men and elves embraced technologies and progress that allowed them to withstand the evil of Sauron.

"Homeward Bound" - Eric's Thoughts

Wherein herein lies a transitional chapter, wherein herein it only deserves a transitional analysis.

Homeward Bound (the chapter) could be best described by Homeward Bound (the movie), which assuredly everyone watched growing up. Remember that one? No?

I will summarize. There are two dogs and a cat in that movie (I think). The animals get lost. They have to find their way home. Antics ensue, including a porcupine attack to one of the dog's faces. (I'm pretty sure that happened. Anyone willing to (re)watch it to make sure?)

All right, maybe the chapter is not all that similar with the movie, but you get the point. The hobbits are bounding towards home -- i.e. they are homeward bound. Along the way they see Butterbeer, err, Butterbur. Him and Knob and Cobb are much more suspicious towards outsiders. Tolkien is doing this to show that the world the hobbits left behind has changed. As have the hobbits.

Gandalf leaves, again. (You may be be wondering: why is that wizard always running off at critical moments?? He did the same thing in The Hobbit! [Spoiler below***])

The chapter ends with a real cliffhanger as the hobbits approach home. Is everyone the way it was??? Can Sam go back to a peaceful life of gardening notwithstanding the visions that he saw in Lothlorien and Butterbur's ominous foreshadowing in Bree??? Dum - dum - dum!!!! We'll have to see!!!!

***Answer: Because that way the characters can develop without a crutch. The wizard / helper figure generally has to be taken out of the equation so that the hero can truly demonstrate his/her apotheosis. See Campbell.