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Rewatching the Lord of the Rings

Recently I rewatched the entire “Lord of the Rings” trilogy with my kids, in the extended editions.

That’s over 12 hours of movies, but my kids were not bored for a minute. After “Fellowship” my son was gushing about how clearly the story was told; and about how the music made him feel, particularly the chants and voices. He said the sounds in general were amazing, particularly the Nazgul screams.  And he said these movies were even better than “Star Wars”.

My daughter’s favorite character was Eowyn, though after the first two movies she had been ready to pick Sam or Gollum.  Her favorite scenes were Bilbo’s party, Galadriel’s transformation, and the argument between Merry and Pippin about who was taller.  She loved their friendship, as well as that between Legolas and Gimli.

I had never seen all three movies back to back.  In the past I sometimes found each of them (except Fellowship) a little too long, but watching them over three consecutive nights with my kids I was ready to see more.  I was riveted unexpectedly by certain scenes that I’d seen countless times, like Arwen at the Ford, and the breaking of the dam at Isengard.  Theoden emerging from Saruman’s diseased grip had me hiding tears. Denethor’s treatment of his younger son: devastating.  Eowyn backing away from Aragorn in heartbreak hit me, probably because she never backs away from anything else. The arrival of Rohan at Minas Tirith — just their arrival, not their fighting — quietly drew some tears out, rather than the excitement I typically feel when watching that scene by itself. Then Eowyn quietly broke me again by defending and mourning Theoden.  The Grey Havens was the final quiet blow, and for once, none of that – in fact none of the so-called false endings – seemed too slow.

I also reread “Lord of the Rings” earlier this year. That was an ever greater experience, and I have almost too much stuff about that to put into blog posts. (I’ve also had little time for blogging). This post is going to be strictly about the movies, about new things I noticed in them. I’ll also revisit old criticisms of Peter Jackson’s movies.

Callbacks and pairings

I realized during this rewatching how thoughtfully structured the movies are. I noticed countless visual and verbal callbacks to earlier scenes or themes. And because the movies do not separate, as the books do, the Frodo/Sam story storyline from that of their companions, you often have back-to-back scenes in the movies that call back from one of the main storylines to the other.

Let’s start with the purely visual callbacks.

I thought that Sam resembled Shelob when he fought her.  Even when he’s not pinned by her, for example when he’s backing up and setting himself, he’s often down on the ground and sliding around like a crab or like a spider.  It gives the entire duel — one of the best in the Tolkien movies, and in the books, too — a disturbing and desperate quality. 

Frodo looks uneasily at the Ring and then at the sleeping Sam right after we’ve seen Smeagol turn on his friend Deagol. This is an obvious parallel, but it helps explain what was always unclear to me, namely why Jackson chose to open “Return of the King” with Smeagol’s backstory.  I had assumed it was merely dumped there, but it returns to the theme of friends turning on each other, as Frodo ends up doing.  That storyline has often been criticized and I’m sympathetic to the arguments against it, but after rewatching the trilogy almost my strongest impression is that the Ring will cause anyone to do anything, given enough time. 

That’s clear at the Cracks of Doom; Frodo’s mind is entirely overthrown. 

Didn’t Bilbo raise his fists at his dear friend Gandalf and later lash out monstrously at Frodo?

What the Ring does to anyone — what it does even to those who have lived uncorrupted for thousands of years — is surely the lesson that Galadriel imprints most deeply upon Frodo in that terrifying sight of her.

There are many purely verbal callbacks in the three movies, including:

There are further parallels in content/themes, too many to begin to list them all, but here are some that I’ve written down.

Revisiting criticisms of the movies

Back in 2003 I had soured a little bit on the LOTR movies when I realized how much conflict Jackson had invented, emphasized or amplified.  I don’t take those criticisms back, but over the years I’ve come to see how much heart there is in the movies.  Yes, some of the heart and soul is lost in the transition to film and in the creative decisions to opt for violence or to exaggerate confrontation.  But it doesn’t all go in that direction.  Jackson often amplifies and sometimes even improves on the heart that is already abundantly present in the book.  “I can carry you” is such an example, and maybe the best. Another is Boromir’s death (“my captain, my king”; “be at peace, son of Gondor”).  In this rewatching of the trilogy from start to finish, another stood out: “You bow to no one,” says Aragorn as he bows before the four hobbits, after they had attempted to bow to him. There, with a movie’s visual language, Jackson is completely true to Tolkien’s vision, in which the small and meek are to be honored more than the powerful.  That’s an especially welcome scene in these post-Trump days.

I had always regarded Aragorn’s “Men of the West” speech as a bit of war-movie speechifying; I thought such rhetoric really detracted from Tolkien’s great insistence that Sauron could not be defeated by force of arms.  But this time I liked the speech. Instead of martial tones, what stood out for me was his charge to his men to hold on to bonds of family and friendship. That is very much in the spirit of the book. When he charges forward he says, “For Frodo”, which he does not do in the book.  And above all he calls on his men not to give in — not today — to despair.  And that is assuredly a theme running throughout LOTR.  In the book it is Gandalf who most often counsels against despair, very memorably in a last debate before their march on the Black Gate.  Aragorn, standing in front of the Black Gate, takes up that theme. 

I had never understood how Aragorn could let Frodo go alone to Mordor, but Jackson clearly conceives of Aragorn’s susceptibility to the Ring as more than mere potential.  Now I view Aragorn’s decision as foreshadowed by what Arwen had said to him in Rivendell, when he told her how he was weighed down by the possibility that he shared “the same weakness” as Isildur:  “Why do you fear the past? You are Isildur’s heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate…. Your time will come. You will face the same evil, and you will defeat it.”  Her words had always struck me as a general encouragement that he would not succumb to temptation and that he would eventually triumph; but really what she’s saying is that he will not succumb to temptation.  That is Aragorn’s worry.  He doesn’t doubt his martial skills.  He’s worried about his susceptibility to power.  In that context, his victory takes place when he lets Frodo go.

There will always be strictly logical arguments against Aragorn’s decision to let Frodo go alone.  But I have a better appreciation now for what the movie was trying to say.  Aragorn man knew his limitations, knew the dangers of temptation, and did not consider himself a superman above them.  This, too – this humility before the corruption of power – is something I deeply appreciate today.

I had always thought of “Two Towers” as the last interesting of the three films, partly because of its heavy emphasis on the Battle of Helm’s Deep.  But this time, perhaps because that battle doesn’t dominate the extended edition, I had a different impression.  There are many contemplative scenes in “Two Towers”, more than in “Fellowship.” There is poetic, unhasty speech not just from Treebeard but also Arwen, Elrond, Gandalf (full of riddles upon his return), Theoden (suiting up for battle), Sam (speech in Osgiliath), Aragorn (horse-whispering in Elvish), Eowyn (talking about cages and chanting in Old English), Faramir (musing over the body of a dead soldier), even Grima (to Eowyn). And of course Gollum’s long monologues steal the show.

The camera lingers on faces, particularly Arwen, Faramir, Gollum, and Frodo.

Jackson’s decision to make Rohan fight with little more than old men and teenage boys has been criticized, and there are good reasons for that. But Jackson’s decision enhances Eowyn’s story because it makes it seem all the more unjust and nonsensical for her to be forced into the caves, and not fight, when Rohan had hardly any able-bodied warriors on hand.

I leave you with one last criticism revisited.

The Eagles be like, “We won’t fly you to the Mountain, but we’ll give you a ride back if it blows up.”

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