(avg. read time: 23–46 mins.)
As promised long ago, I am finally getting around to finishing the “extended editions” of my reviews of the Lord of the Rings films in time for the twentieth anniversary of the theatrical release of The Return of the King. Years before I had this Substack, I had a catalog of writings that I was willing to send out to anyone who was interested, which I have turned into some of my Substack posts, and which included some rather long reviews of the LOTR movies. These were good therapy for me before and after a semester in my PhD program that took a toll on my health. And now I am posting extended editions of the same to articulate what I think of the LOTR films.
But before I discuss the movies, I think I need to say something about how I regard the books. (I know it was written as one story and one volume, but it has since been divided up into three, and even in the original it was divided up into six smaller books which then became two smaller books per volume.) To be brief, LOTR changed my life. I adore these books and my love for them grows with each reading as I try to read them at least once a year (and I even have the unabridged audiobooks for long trips). I love the project of sub-creation (and the fact that the world truly feels much larger than this story can adequately portray), the incredible attention to detail, the grand story that ties so much of that sub-creation together (as I have illustrated elsewhere), the compelling narration of the action, the characters that represent a wide variety of perspectives, personalities, and even patterns of speech, the sense of adventure, the rollercoaster of emotional engagement, the complex moral considerations that transcend a mere “good vs. evil” story, the theology and philosophy, and the great themes, of which there are many (and as a result of which some of the talking portions are even more interesting than the action scenes). It is a sublime masterpiece that I love to share with others and to which I know I will continue to return for years to come.
What then did I think of the LOTR films? In brief, they are my favorite movies. They may not be the strictest adaptations, and I even have a few significant problems with some of the omissions and changes. But overall, they are faithful adaptations that excellently present the core story, many of the core themes, and the sense of epic adventure. And the LOTR movies will always have a special place in my heart as quality films and as quality adaptations of these books I love. In fact, I did not start reading LOTR until I saw The Fellowship of the Ring in theaters, after which I read all the books prior to the release of The Two Towers. If not for these movies, I may have never read Tolkien’s work, and I can scarcely begin to comprehend how much that absence might have affected me, just as I can scarcely begin to comprehend how much that presence has affected me.
To express my appreciation for the LOTR films in both praise and criticism, I adopt the same format as I used in my review of The Hobbit films. First, I give my general thoughts on features that all three movies share. Then I proceed through each of the individual films on an almost scene-by-scene basis to highlight points that are praiseworthy and points where I thought some feature could have been improved by hewing closer to the book or by going a different way. Finally, I should note that I will be reviewing the Extended Editions. While I regarded trying to go through the Extended Editions of The Hobbit as unnecessary and extended self-torment, the Extended Editions of LOTR have come to be regarded by the LOTR fanbase as a whole as the definitive editions. Furthermore, the Extended Editions provide extra shots, extra detail, and extra scenes that expand stories and characterizations without withholding any necessary information that would be required to figure out the action (though there is one exception in which the conclusion of an important character’s story is withheld for the Extended Edition). I also point out a few examples here and there where the Extended Editions simply fill in the gaps that the audience previously would have filled in themselves (such as the key scene in the Battle of Pelennor Fields when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli emerge from the Corsair ships with Army of the Dead, though the theatrical version never showed them commandeering those ships).
General Thoughts
Setting
First, I love the setting, as many others did to the point that these movies boosted New Zealand tourism in a way nothing else had before and probably nothing else ever will again. This country is incredibly beautiful, and it contains a surprising array of eye-enthralling landscapes for a country that could fit within my home state of Texas two times over. The Hobbit trilogy, of course, the first two Chronicles of Narnia movies, and still others like The Last Samurai have followed LOTR in using New Zealand as a setting because of how perfectly it served here. The natural beauty of New Zealand is complemented well with the crew’s excellent set design so that none of the settings look out of place, and as a result Middle-earth has a greater sense of verisimilitude than probably any fantasy setting in film history. On this visual level, Jackson and co. have succeeded in conveying Tolkien’s sub-creative project in a new medium.
Realism and Movie Magic
Second, to extend that last point further, this series has countless amazing visuals thanks to cinematography, set and costume design, and ground-breaking visual effects. I have many occasions for commenting on particular instances later, but for now I just want to make some broad comments. Compared to the over-saturated and glossy look of The Hobbit, LOTR had a sense of realism by not only shooting at many real locations, but also by having less saturated colors in the visuals. Indeed, when one watches the special features (or with the commentaries), one acquires an appreciation for the subtle effects of the use of colors in opposition to the bolder, more overt, and overwhelming color templates of The Hobbit.
The set and costume designs were incredibly intricate and were clearly labors of love on the part of their makers to the point that each costume and item had its own backstory off-screen, and each set blended perfectly with the natural locations and the imagined ones. Each culture, race, and setting have their own distinct designs, including of arrows and other weapons. These intricate details are reflected even in touches as subtle as having Rivendell/Imladris reflect a Western aesthetic and music, while Lorien reflect an Eastern aesthetic and music (seriously, the special features on the Extended Edition leave one in awe at the effort, ingenuity, and attention to detail in all of these facets). The achievements in what was made for the films include the following:
Over 10,000 facial appliances
Over 1,800 body suits of latex
Over 1,800 pairs of Hobbit feet for the four mains (even though, according to Sean Astin, there were 50 days of shooting in which the Hobbits had to wear those feet and they did not show up on camera)
Chainmail shirts made from rings of over 12km of pressure hose, yielding 12.5 million rings (the two men who assembled them by hand wore off their fingerprints on their thumbs and index fingers)
Ngila Dickson and her 40 seamstresses made 40 costumes of each given design for each Fellowship character
A 14-feet tall fully functional animatronic of Treebeard (along with smaller pieces used for close-up shots)
80,000 miniature skulls, in addition to many more full-sized skulls, were used for filming the landslide/skullslide scene in the Paths of the Dead
A slain Mûmak that had to be transported with 12+ trucks and assembled on site with 600 arrows (as well as five spears) embedded into it
The make-up department was also kept incredibly busy just with the major cast members, to say nothing of the many minor characters and extras (such as Lurtz, who was the result of Lawrence Makoare being in make-up for 10.5 hours). Of all the major character actors, John Rhys-Davies had the most labor-intensive work done, as it would take 4.5 hours at a time to apply his appearance (which even included adding a prosthetic tip on his middle finger to cover up what he had lost years prior when working on a car engine). And what is more, he was allergic to the latex, and so his endurance was tested in more ways than one in the course of filming. One funny behind-the-scenes story is that Rhys-Davies’s way of celebrating his last day of filming was to be given his latex mask and a fire to throw it into.
The crew even built a forge for making their own steel armor and hundreds of swords. Each army had a distinct design, even differentiating Second Age and Third Age Elvish warriors. Distinct designs also appear in all the different helmets of the Uruk army that serve different functions. In the process of this extensive craftwork, they also came up with some remarkable touches of detail that people watching the movie in a theater would never notice. For example, Orc armor was tattooed with Black Speech. Black Speech was also inscribed on the Grond miniature, which was covered with lead. Elvish inscriptions were made on swords, which fits with what Elves and others do in Middle-earth, but this would again not be seen by most people who did not have immediate access to movie stills.
The CGI effects had perhaps the greatest impact of the visuals in LOTR in at least two ways. One, the revolutionary CGI software called MASSIVE (developed by Stephen Regelous) used in the large-scale scenes, including incredibly intricate battle sequences, would help bring the action of LOTR to life on the epic scale the story deserved. Like much of the rest of the CGI, this software built its realistic action off of motion capture reference of real actors. Two, perhaps most significantly, the motion capture technology used most memorably on Sméagol/Gollum looks good even to this day, and it has influenced work in movies, TV, and video games to this day. According to the special features, FOTR had 540 shots of CG effects done by Weta, TT had 799 such shots, and ROTK had 1,488 such shots. The award for the most impressive individual feat involved in computer animation on this film must go to Gray Horsefield, who animated the destruction of Barad-dûr by breaking it down into 800,000 custom, handcrafted polyfaces that fell apart in their particular ways in an animation job that took him a couple of weeks working long days on what would total less than thirty seconds of film.
And as famous as these movies are for CGI, they are also notable for the models and miniatures (or what the crew called “bigatures”) used in practical effects, and generally for using “every trick in the book,” as well as developing new tricks to add to the book, to give the fantasy a sense of reality, a verisimilitude unequaled in fantasy films since then. These models and “bigatures” included the following:
Rivendell had a miniature at 1/24 scale
The Lothlórien set featured eight 26-feet tall trees five feet in diameter that were built by the crew
Orthanc and the Ring of Isengard were built at 1/35 scale
The Argonath were built at 1/60 scale and have many tiny touches of detail to hint at how they were built
Fangorn Forest sets were built eight times over
Helm’s Deep had two miniatures built at 1/35 and 1/4 scale
Minas Morgul had a miniature at 1/120 scale
Minas Tirith had a miniature at 1/72 scale that was 7m tall and 6 ½ m in diameter with over 1,000 miniature residences made in it
Some sections of roads and walls for Minas Tirith were made at 1/14 scale for detail shots
Although Barad-dûr, due to its sheer size of being almost a kilometer tall, could not have a proper “scale” model, they still built a model that was 27 feet tall
It is said on the special features that the crew spent around 1,000 days constructing and shooting miniature scenes. Throughout these visuals (of both practical and computer-generated varieties), we see the fruit of Jackson’s approach to treat Middle-earth as a real place and its story as real history, or what Weta Workshop creative supervisor Richard Taylor summarized as “gritty realism.”
A final noteworthy aspect of the visual effects is in how Jackson and co. made a world with Hobbits come to life. There were so many tricks involved in making this happen, some of which were well established in the film world at this point, and some of which had to be innovated on set. Sometimes they used scale doubles led by Kiran Shah (who also played Ginarrbrik in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) and these scale doubles would sometimes even wear masks that looked like the faces of their counterparts for wide shots. Of course, Gandalf also had a scale double that worked in the opposite direction, as Ian McKellen is only just under 6’ tall. Other shots used forced perspective, one of the oldest camera tricks in filmmaking that involves setting people at proportionate distances from the camera to give the illusion that they are a certain size relative to another character. But in most cases in these films such a technique would not work, especially for group shots or shots in which the characters had to be moving. One way of addressing this problem was using scale compositing, where one or more of the Hobbit actors would shoot a scene and then a larger character that appears in the scene with them would be filmed separately with a bluescreen backdrop with the camera making the same movements and with the actor following the blocking for the scene. When these separate shots were scaled and composited together, the result would be scenes like when Gandalf and Frodo walk through Bag End as they discuss what to do with the Ring. Yet another technique involved using forced perspective with a moving camera. This technique involved doing such things as constructing a wagon in which Gandalf and Frodo were actually far apart, but they are made to look like they are riding together or, again in Bag End, using dollies to keep a table moving while making it look like it is stationary in order to maintain the distance necessary for the forced perspective. Sets like Bag End were also made in different scales for Hobbit characters and larger characters. Some of the larger characters would also have big rig equivalents, such as in the scene when Merry and Pippin are carried by the Uruk-hai and the Uruks have to appear extra large.
In addition to the visuals, the sound design is also noteworthy. The special features contain a lot of fascinating commentary on how the foley sounds were crafted to make this audiovisual masterpiece. This involved such things as using rocks scraping on cinderblocks to create the sounds for the Balrog, using walrus recordings and some audio editing tricks for the sounds of the cave-troll or the Watcher in the Water, and using faders on recordings of volcano rumblings to get the sound of the Uruk-hai march. An even more extreme example is that several recordings with several kinds and locations of microphones on the sound of two-ton rocks being dropped by a crane were used to create the sounds for the trebuchets at Minas Tirith.
Music
Third, Howard Shore composed one of the most memorable film soundtracks of all time. Numerous themes and renditions are immediately recognizable as being associated with the Hobbits/the Shire, the adventure of the Fellowship, Rivendell, the various scenes in Moria, Boromir’s last stand, Rohan/Edoras, Isengard, the Battle of Pelennor Fields (especially the charge of the Rohirrim), the departure from the Grey Havens, and so on. Shore’s music is wonderfully balanced, distinct, varied, emotionally evocative, and fitting for this grand story. The closing songs are not all equally memorable, but the closing song of The Return of the King (“Into the West”) remains one of the greatest original closing pieces of music in film history as perfectly atmospheric and summative of a grand and majestic trilogy. He also provides a lot of subtle touches throughout the trilogy, such as the fact that the full Fellowship theme with the swelling music is never heard again after Gandalf falls; it is diminished just as the Fellowship is diminished. Another example is the use of the dulcimer in Sméagol’s theme to be reflective of the Hobbiton theme. And so on we could go, but I would leave the exploration of Howard Shore’s genius to those who are actually trained in music and music theory, as well as the explanations Shore himself provides.
Action
Fourth, like the vast majority, I love the action. Now I will grant that it is reasonable to critique this trilogy on adaptation grounds for excessive focus on action at the expense of good dialogue from Tolkien. I will make points where I think they could have improved. However, I do not agree with this criticism for the most part. A focus on action for an adaptation to a visual medium is practically inevitable from the standpoint of good and profitable filmmaking. Given the risk that Jackson and co. took to bring this film series to life at a time when fantasies simply did not do well at the box office, and given that they were facing that challenge on an unimaginable scale given the scope and significance of this project, it is entirely reasonable to expect more action to draw in a global audience. And for the most part, I think they avoided a focus on action that was too detrimental to the overall sub-creative project, to the themes of the books, and to the good dialogue Tolkien wrote, given the change in medium. They were not perfect in this regard, of course, but no one could reasonably expect such. I will try to demonstrate indirectly the films’ quality in these regards throughout the more specific analysis. But one other thing I can say as a general note is that the choreography was excellent. They certainly spared no expense in getting Bob Anderson—an Olympic fencer and choreographer or stuntman for sword fights in many films, including the original Star Wars trilogy, The Princess Bride, Disney’s The Three Musketeers, and The Mask of Zorro—to be the sword master for the trilogy.
An Excellent Cast of Characters and Actors
Fifth and most significantly, I love the ensemble. There are points to critique here, but the quality of the casting and performance of this ensemble, without relying on any names at the time that could be considered major box office draws, is simply stunning. What is even more remarkable is how well they all work together despite the fact that none of the cast worked together prior to this movie, and many had never even met each other. To this day, the cast still maintain a remarkable camaraderie that is always enjoyable to see anytime they interact. I will address the rest of the significant characters who did not appear in all three films as this series goes on, but here I simply focus on those who appear throughout the series.
Sir Ian McKellen as Gandalf is exemplary, plain and simple. There is a definite warmth and friendliness to him and there is no denying his involvement and engagement with the events around him on every level of his expression, but in his patterns of speech as well as in his action, he hints at his transcendence. McKellen disappears into this complex character. His occasionally mumbling, always careful, old-fashioned, cultured, and Oxford voice is modeled on the impression McKellen had of listening to audio recordings of Tolkien himself. He is authoritative but also mirthful, as demonstrated from his very first appearance. He is the wise counsellor to everyone within his sphere, but he never uses his power to compel what he thinks is best, and as a result he is often coy about what he knows, thinks, and does (though not quite to the extent that he is in the books). He can often speak in riddles, but he also takes, and calls for others to take, swift and decisive action. In all things, he strives for balance, willing that all things achieve the proper end, but by the proper means (whether that means ethically or strategically). When the person/people he advises tend(s) toward one kind of action, he pushes the other way when the situation calls for it. And most importantly—and I am not sure if this is something Jackson and co. intentionally preserved or if they did so by happy accident in the writing process—he shows his wisdom primarily by his knowledge of “lore”, particularly of the past stories as well as characters that inform the present continuations and thus of the nature of the story in which he is living, the characters with which he is interacting, and the implications for how he should act. This is definitely a theme from Tolkien’s work and while Jackson and co. do not preserve this theme consistently across the characters, it shows up enough to influence the film properly. And it all begins, as it should, with Gandalf.
I know some have been critical of Elijah Wood as Frodo, but I simply do not see anything that is wrong with Wood’s performance with the material given to him. I never saw him as putting on an unconvincing pretense of suffering, as the character suffers a lot in these movies, but I saw him as if he was actually suffering when the character suffered. I know some people don’t like his voice or his screaming in the role, but he never screamed at inappropriate times and his voice fits the character. Nothing in his performance took me out of investing in his character. The problem I have comes with the material he was given. While I think some overstate the problem here, it is nevertheless an issue that Frodo is more passive in the films than he is in the books. He does less in defending himself, speaking for himself, or otherwise taking an active role in his fate relative to the books (though his decision-making moments are mostly continuous with the books). He suffers more, but perseveres less, as in he shows his character in perseverance less. His wisdom in how he speaks and acts is carried over less, though it is not entirely absent. I have a feeling that the accent he uses, a light one spoken from the “top of the throat” as it were, was supposed to convey that sense of wisdom, but the actual content of his speech and action do less to uphold this compared to the counterpart from the books. And this is not to mention that many of the points at which he demonstrated his knowledge of lore in the books are absent even in the Extended Editions. As I argue more thoroughly as this series goes on, book Frodo is simply better in every way compared to the film counterpart, but the gap is not so great as some would claim, and it is not Elijah Wood’s fault that there is a deficit. He did a fine job with his leading role, and I argue later that his acting at key points in The Return of the King was excellent for illustrating what Frodo is going through between the plot climax and the story climax. Wood played a character who was the heart and soul of these movies, and I think he did a great job being someone we could journey with over the course of three long movies.
Sean Astin as Sam has not spawned similar complaints, as far as I have seen. The script and his performance retain some degree of Sam’s simplicity (primarily) and goofiness (secondarily), which helps give him a certain kind of charm because they are not overplayed (unlike the Bakshi film). And while Frodo has that voice I noted earlier, Sam has a heavier, more guttural type of accent typically associated with country folk, which reflects Sam’s more down-to-earth quality. He is shy and meek when speaking for himself, but bold and direct when speaking or acting to protect Frodo, even from early in the story. Even behind the scenes, Astin acted the part of being Wood’s minder. He well embodies his book counterpart and I think he is even more enjoyable in some regards (I will get to one major aspect that I missed from this adaptation later). Like with Frodo, many of the scenes in which Sam could have demonstrated his grasp of lore were not adapted, with a couple minor exceptions and one stellar one.
Dominic Monaghan as Merry and Billy Boyd as Pippin are the rather perfect mischievous pair. They may not have quite as many layers as their book counterparts, but they have most of them, and their playfulness and humor—especially when paired together—are portrayed quite effortlessly. They function as the initial comic relief, and both Monaghan and Boyd have great timing and chemistry to fulfill that function. They truly do feel like two scamps who are brothers from different mothers. That impression starts from their introduction in setting off one of Gandalf’s fireworks, almost causing disaster, and wanting to try another one immediately. They have an arc like in the books, but the change they undergo is not as pronounced, since certain parts are missing from said arc.
Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn is now rightly lauded for his performance in the film and for the many things he did behind the scenes (a viral thread from Reddit, I think, describes how the casting is so perfect that it really is like the filmmakers managed to get Aragorn to play Aragorn). I know years ago there were rumblings from people who would have preferred Sean Bean, who played Boromir, to have played Aragorn (and some would even say that his performance as Ned Stark in Game of Thrones vindicates that opinion). However, Aragorn is supposed to feel fair, but look foul, and while Viggo Mortensen does not quite fit that bill, he fits it better than Sean Bean in his appearance and performance (whereas Bean is purposefully made to look like a knight). His voice has that lighter quality that fits both association with wisdom and with “Elvishness”, and that fits the character. He portrays a mix of sternness and joy that, mostly, matches his book counterpart as well. Some have objected that Aragorn in these movies does not feel like a properly good king as he just makes speeches and fights battles. I do not think that is right as even in the theatrical version he also has the determination, courage, and charismatic leadership that inspires others to follow him through the Paths of the Dead and other harrowing situations (and, of course, Mortensen’s own conduct on set made him a leader among the crew that everyone enjoyed being around). But I understand that these situations outside of battle are usually just featuring him, Legolas, and Gimli, or other members of the Fellowship. They would not have impacted others except by rumor, in contrast to the books where his influence and impact are more wide-ranging in their directness. Through no fault of Mortensen, it is true that many of the scenes featuring Aragorn’s properly kingly presence and bearing, courage and leadership, wisdom and knowledge (such as through his knowledge of lore), or compassion and healing abilities did not make it into the movie. This problem is helped to some extent by the Extended Editions, but it is not completely addressed. I will be analyzing where Aragorn’s character is better than some would say, where it could have been improved, and where the Extended Editions helped in developing Aragorn’s character further. But as a prefatory note, I would like to highlight that some of these differences extend from the basic change that film Aragorn is more of a king reluctant to take power who is evading his destiny because he fears that he will repeat the mistakes of his ancestor Isildur (though the weight of responsibility as king is not so much the issue), whereas book Aragorn seems to be in more of a preparatory mode, biding his time until he thinks it is the right time to come into his own. I will also explore some of the specific effects this change has on his character. But as for Mortensen himself, it is fair to say that the fans around the world—and every crewmember on the set who had a story about Viggo, which it seems was all of them—owe Henry Mortensen a debt of gratitude for talking his dad into taking this role on short notice.
Before Legolas, played by Orlando Bloom, became what professional wrestling fans might pejoratively call a “spot monkey” showing off his stunts in The Hobbit movies, he was the archery specialist in LOTR who pulled off a couple of cool stunts, the faithful companion who went through all thick and thin with Aragorn and Gimli, and one who in the process formed an unprecedented friendship with Gimli. Nothing is especially remarkable about Bloom’s performance; it is functional, and with the way the character was written that is all it needed to be, as it was often more physically demanding than emotionally demanding. And, of course, that worked out well for young, physically fit Bloom being fresh out of acting school, and being able to work with all these veterans to grow as an actor in his own right through the long process of filming. The movie misses or downplays several elements of Legolas, such as his general cheerfulness, aesthetic sensibilities, his wisdom (which in part stems from his Elvish upbringing and in part from his knowledge of lore), and the longing for the sea that stirs within him at the first sight of it (although this last part is not surprising given that Legolas never glimpses the sea in the movies). In the unlikely pairing of Legolas and Gimli, the movie portrays him as the more static of the two from his emotional state, which is unsurprising given that he is much, much older, but he still undergoes change in his relationship with Gimli as his disposition softens towards him. However, something that is underappreciated is how the movie keeps his sense of humor and playfulness towards other characters, even while not directly adapting any such scenes from the books, except for the competition with Gimli at Helm’s Deep. His talk of going to fetch the sun (while running past the men hard at work digging through the snow) at Caradhras is absent, as is his one-upping Aragorn as the latter listens for riders in the distance in Rohirrim only for Legolas to tell him exactly how many riders there are thanks to his keen eyesight. But the filmmakers convey this characteristic in other ways, such as in the famous scenes of his slaying the Oliphaunt/Mûmak or him saying to Gimli at Helm’s Deep, “Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?” And though he maintains a stoic face in most situations, it makes his more emotional displays more impactful, such as when we get the reaction shot after Gandalf says that the enemy in the distance is a Balrog (and Legolas would have grown up with horror stories of such demons).
As for Gimli, played by John Rhys-Davies, I must admit that my judgment about his adaptation has become a little more mixed over the years. Not about Rhys-Davies of course; he is delightfully overflowing with personality, is incredibly humorous, and the interviews you watch and the stories you hear of him make him seem like a great guy to hang out with. The issue is that Gimli becomes too focused on comic relief, starting with the “Nobody tosses a Dwarf” line, and much of his character from the books does not make the transition to film. He is not one-dimensional, of course. He is still the elite warrior he was in the books, and he shows off his indefatigable steadfastness in character and friendship that is central to his character, even in some of the comedic scenes. But in the books, he was mostly a grim character, and he illustrates well the nature of Dwarves as people who passionately hold grudges and who do not make friends easily, but who, when they do make friends, give their friends lifelong and stubborn loyalty. His sense of honor is more implicit than explicit in the movies. Also, his aesthetic sensibilities, shaped to take pleasure in what Dwarves typically take pleasure in, and his knowledge of lore are mostly absent (I note exceptions below). These aspects of his character showed that he was cultured in Dwarf history and culture, even though what might appeal to him might not appeal to many non-Dwarves. Nor do we get some of his more reflective moments, such as when he and Legolas debate the merits of the works of Men and how long they will last (in which he is the more skeptical of the two). I do not mind that Jackson and co. gave him a more humorous role, and I do enjoy the scenes, but I wish that had not been as much of his dialogical role for most of the films. Again, the Extended Editions help somewhat in this regard, but not enough to restore all of his layers, if such is even possible in the film medium. Having said that, I was as glad to share this journey with this version of the character as I was with the rest of the Fellowship, and he provided plenty of entertainment along the way. The character remains lovable in any case.
Outside of the Fellowship, there are a few characters that have varying levels of prominence throughout the rest of the trilogy. Specifically, I focus here on the characters who have speaking roles in every film or, in the case of the first one, at least in the Extended Editions. First is Saruman, played by the late, great Sir Christopher Lee. I will try not to speak too effusively of Lee, though he is a remarkable man when you learn some of his history, but I will say that he is widely known as the only cast member to have met Tolkien himself (on which occasion he was quite starstruck) and he, of course, strongly desired to play Gandalf before filming began (and he even joked with McKellen to that effect). But in hindsight I think it is clear that Lee was properly cast as Saruman, even if he surely would have done a stellar job as Gandalf (minus the more physical bits he would prefer not to have done at his age). His powerfully resonant voice is the perfect incarnation of how Tolkien described the voice of Saruman:
Suddenly another voice spoke, low and melodious, its very sound an enchantment. Those who listened unwarily to that voice could seldom report the words that they heard; and if they did, they wondered, for little power remained in them. Mostly they remembered only that it was a delight to hear the voice speaking, all that it said seemed wise and reasonable, and desire awoke in them by swift agreement to seem wise themselves. When others spoke they seemed harsh and uncouth by contrast; and if they gainsaid the voice, anger was kindled in the hearts of those under the spell…. But none were unmoved; none rejected its pleas and its commands without an effort of mind and will, so long as its master had control of it. (III/10)
His tall frame, posture, and speech pattern further reinforce the threat conveyed with the deep pitch of his voice. And the role he is given mostly comports with the books, the major difference being that the aspect of petty bitterness does not really come through as much because we do not see much of him after the fall of Isengard.
Elrond, played by Hugo Weaving, has a more extensive role in the movies than he does in the books primarily because of his tie with Arwen, whose role is even more expanded. Weaving’s performance is fine, and he uses that same sort of soft accent that I mentioned before, which works especially well with his baritone voice. Of course, due to the plot with Arwen, the movie plays up his paternal aspects more than his counsellor ones (though they are still present) or his knowledge of lore, which is equaled by few in the world in the books. He also seems more jaded against mortals or at least against mortality than he is in the books. I kind of wished that in taking this approach in the movie, they would have also illustrated that this view developed from a choice he himself had to make thousands of years ago. They would not have even needed to devote much time to it. But in any case, it seems that his role has both expanded and re-oriented.
As mentioned above, Arwen, played by Liv Tyler, has a much more expanded role in the movie compared to the books. Tyler has a similar accent to the other Elves, but her effort in maintaining it in contrast to her regular accent leads to a vocal performance that is much more in contrast with her regular voice by comparison to others (and I must say that her lower register to convey a sense of age, depth, and wisdom was a good touch). The major exception that better demonstrates her range is, of course, her scene with the Nazgûl, where she uses a more challenging, assertive tone followed by a more distressed one when she beseeches Frodo. As for her role, I am actually fine with the expansions and the dimensions they add to the story, particularly in relation to Aragorn. I will get into more details of what I think about each scene later, but in general I approve of these changes in absence of the appendix that gives the audience the backstory to Aragorn and Arwen’s love story. One cannot properly understand either character apart from it as Aragorn’s growth into his heritage is spurred on by his love for Arwen, though this is portrayed differently in the movies than in the books.
Then there is Galadriel, played by Cate Blanchett, who arguably has a somewhat smaller role in the movies, all things considered. Blanchett uses the aforementioned Elvish accent, but it is well complemented in her case with a deeper pitch, befitting Galadriel’s gravitas and potential danger. In general, she portrays herself as someone who has a fundamental loveliness and warmth, but who can pose a great danger to anyone whose heart harbors darkness. Though she is like Gandalf in this regard, because we do not see her in battle, she retains an extra air of mystery about her in terms of what she is capable of, how powerful she is, and how her power could manifest. Her role in the Quest beyond the borders of Lórien is more limited than in the books, though she helps Elrond as a counsellor from afar and Frodo as a memory and a visionary guide. She remains the key equipper for the Fellowship after Rivendell and her particular relationship to Gimli is mostly gone from the theatrical version while the Extended Edition retains some of it. Gimli’s adoration of and reverence for her was essential to his growth, especially in terms of his friendship with Legolas, and the first moment in which she got through to him is a scene that is beautifully narrated:
“Do not repent of your welcome to the Dwarf. If our folk had been exiled long and far from Lothlórien, who of the Galadhrim, even Celeborn the Wise, would pass nigh and would not wish to look upon their ancient home, though it had become an abode of dragons?”
“Dark is the water of Kheled-zâram, and cold are the springs of Kibil-nâla, and fair were the many-pillared halls of Khazad-dûm in Elder Days before the fall of mighty kings beneath the stone.” She looked upon Gimli, who sat glowering and sad, and she smiled. And the Dwarf, hearing the names given in his own ancient tongue, looked up and met her eyes; and it seemed to him that he looked suddenly into the heart of an enemy and saw there love and understanding. Wonder came into his face, and then he smiled in answer. (II/7)
Though Gimli’s admiration of Galadriel remains in the Extended Edition, this scene and later ones in which he is defensive on her behalf are absent.
Finally, we have Andy Serkis establishing the type of CG motion capture role for which he would become the paragon actor with his role as Sméagol/Gollum. From the slightly different voices he developed for the split personalities, to the posture and way that he moves around, to the wide variety of facial expressions (which had Serkis’s face as their base), to every aspect of his portrayal of the internal conflict in his character, Serkis has fully embodied this unique character. Indeed, it was his physical performance that convinced Jackson and co. that Serkis should not simply work as a voice actor (as was the initial plan), but that, in consistency with the approach of “gritty realism,” his physical performance would be the basis for the CGI work (involving a blend of motion capture, key frame rotoscoping, and animation). The writing for his character is also top-notch as the writers have extended the internal conflict of this character in such a way that he seems even more thoroughly conflicted in the narrative present than his book counterpart to the point that he tastes redemption for a brief time only to tumble backwards against his will when he feels betrayed by his master. I get more into the details of that conflict below and I think that there are some points that could have improved the movies even more, including if they had preserved an aspect of the original story in place of what I regard as the single worst change from the books to the movies. Having said that, I cannot deny that the adaptation of this character overall is one of the best, if not the best, among a high-quality ensemble. And I would be remiss not to note that the other screenwriters attribute the writing for this adapted character largely to Fran Walsh.
Adapting a Textual Masterpiece into an Audiovisual Masterpiece
Sixth, I applaud the general adaptation philosophy of these movies that embody what can be described as “creative fidelity.” The movies are not exact duplicates of the books minus obvious changes from book to film (since they do not try the 1984 Dune’s awful tactic of including voiceover narration for characters’ inner thoughts). Rather, they retain the overall story, plot, themes, character rosters (largely), and character moments while conveying some of them in new ways and adding new moments which—for the most part—fit with what Jackson and co. carried over from the books. Unlike with The Hobbit, no new major characters are added, but several minor ones are taken out. The movie retains the characters that were necessary to tell the story, though not to replicate Tolkien’s sub-creative project, in which characters extraneous to the main plot can be fine. Still, there are times when I miss characters being included in the films and where there are “seams” where their exclusions make notable impacts. Generally speaking, though, these movies are wonderful examples of how to do an adaptation well with creative fidelity without following the book’s script with the strictest adherence. As the writers themselves have said at the end of the commentary for the first film, they were not afraid to deviate from the books, thought first of the fact that they were adapting it for a different medium, and as they were able to, they went back to the books and sought to be faithful to what was written where they thought they could be while maintaining the integrity of the film. And I want to clarify that at many of the points of critique I make about the books over against the movies, I am not necessarily sure that the movie would have been better off including all of these points from the books. The movie may have just become bloated as a result and the Extended Editions as they stand already exceed three hours or (in the case of The Return of the King) four hours apiece. (Thus, I remind anyone who fixates on material left out of the movie that any addition you suggest is going to mean additional minutes to the movie, and those extra scenes can add up quickly.) Some changes are definitely net negatives, but in other cases they are more neutral. There are also more cases than I can mention without becoming even more repetitive than I already am of changes being made to the chronology of certain scenes in order to maintain a pace more fit for a movie. These changes in arrangement also work for making emotional transitions between scenes smoother, lest we have a sloppy and jarring whiplash transition from consummate triumph to tragedy.
Of course, it helps that many of the people involved with making this movie had read LOTR even prior to this. Jackson first read it at 18, Sean Bean was in his 20s, Dominic Monaghan was 15, others said they first read it anywhere between 12 and their 20s, and screenwriter Philippa Boyens said she read it at 16 and then continued to reread it once a year. And, of course, Christopher Lee had them all beat in terms of how many times he read it. The cast and crew regularly had copies of the books handy to consult for all manner of questions and concerns throughout the long filming process.
Indeed, the writing process in consultation with the books, the cast, and the crew made for a remarkable amount of revision. The movie started as a mere 90-page treatment in 1998 and Miramax, the first studio to fund the project, wanted it to be only one standard release film. When Jackson and co. approached New Line to pitch the story to them, they initially pitched it as two films. But God bless Robert Shaye and New Line, they knew it would require three. Then once all of that was established, the screenplay was revised on an almost weekly basis. John Rhys-Davies said he had kept two file boxes full of rewrites for his scenes alone.
Still, I cannot deny that there were things that I missed from the books, which I thought could have not only enhanced the movie, but also could have helped it stick closer to Tolkien’s work in spirit. For some of the things I missed, I can understand their omission as being simply due to meeting the demands of the art of filmmaking. For example, I love Tolkien’s extended celebration after the Ring is destroyed, and its like is rare among any kind of book in which the defeat of the main evil leads to so much celebration and restoration—as well as reminders that not all of the work is done—that it takes a few chapters to absorb all of it and to let the events of the story breathe a long-held sigh of relief. But movies do not permit similarly long stretches of celebration and relief after the climax of the plot (and even with the ending of The Return of the King with so much cut out, some still complained that the movie took too long to end because it gave twenty minutes to ending a saga that lasted over nine hours in the theatrical version and over eleven hours in the Extended Editions). On the other hand, some of the things I miss were simply more of what was already kept in the movie, like certain implications of divine providence that were not accentuated to the degree that they were in the books; or focus on the dual matters of redeemability and corruptibility, which were explored more in the books and put the lie to all claims about the moral simplicity of its story of “good vs. evil” (made by people who never read it). Again, I will refer to specific things I missed at various points in the following reviews.
This is not necessarily a criticism, but I have noticed that the movies, for as often as they stick to the books’ chronology as we get further into the trilogy, are often unclear about the passage of time, whether they have intentionally collapsed a much longer passage of time in the books or they are not clear on how to show the passage of time. In the case of, say, FOTR, seventeen years pass between Bilbo’s and Frodo’s respective departures from the Shire. Sure, in the movie when we see Bilbo later, he shows more signs of advanced age, but we are left to wonder if this is more rapid deterioration as time catches up, if some years have actually passed, or if it is a mix of both. Clearly, we are supposed to assume some length of at least months, but it is unclear from the movie itself if we are to guess that more time has passed (Jackson and Walsh speak in the commentary as if it has only been months and they felt the need to convey a more compressed timeframe). Of course, I can understand why it might be considered undesirable to bring in other actors to portray significantly younger versions of these characters. Frodo would not necessarily need to change actors, because by the time of Bilbo’s birthday he is mature at 33, but Sam is 21 and Merry is 19. Perhaps these could be passed off with some makeup effects, but Pippin would certainly be the most affected, since he was only 11 at the time of Bilbo’s party (ironically, Billy Boyd is the oldest of the Hobbits and Elijah Wood is by far the youngest). Indeed, his youth at the time of the setting out from Rivendell—since he has not reached the age of maturity for a Hobbit—is an issue for Elrond. But that introduction of Pippin (whether in terms of a properly younger counterpart at Bilbo’s party or later in the story) would have been less effective in the film medium, not least because we would need to get used to a new actor later on and because it would undermine the visual message of Merry and Pippin as two peas in a pod from the first moment we meet them. Still, it should be acknowledged that FOTR makes a quick acknowledgment of the age difference between Frodo and Pippin when Pippin describes Frodo as his “second cousin, once removed on his mother’s side.” Pippin never actually says this in dialogue in the books, but it is genealogically accurate, as he is not actually part of the same generation as Frodo (hence the “once removed”). (Likewise, as the Gaffer says in the books, Frodo is Bilbo’s first and second cousin, once removed either way. In the first film, Bilbo never refers to Frodo as his “nephew,” unlike in the books, but Gandalf [twice] and Frodo [once] refer to Bilbo as his “uncle.” It should be noted that, as in the book, these are informal uses of “uncle,” used for an older male relative that is not a direct ancestor or in the same generation. The use of “nephew” in the book should be understood accordingly.)
In other cases, they either decided to collapse the extended time to match the need for more urgency in the film medium or to be ambiguous in showing the passing of time in an effective way beyond the passing of a day but short of the passing of several months. For example, once again from FOTR, the Fellowship stays in Rivendell and Lórien for a few weeks at each stop, but the movies might indicate no more than a couple of days at most, or they have simply left the matter ambiguous. I will highlight more examples, but in the absence of clear indications either way, I will not offer too much speculation as to why such chronological issues arise.
Speaking of chronological issues, one may recall that I absolutely grilled The Hobbit films for what seemed to me to be contempt for Tolkien’s chronology. I summarized my various points by saying:
I know all of these criticisms of screwing with the chronology may sound like kvetching over minutiae. But I care so much because Tolkien clearly put a lot of meticulous work into constructing his history of Middle-earth, all leading to the crescendo of meticulous chronology during the Quest of the Ring. It seems disrespectful for the makers of this film to contradict Tolkien’s chronology so blatantly after he put so much care and work into it when there was no good purpose served by the alterations.
Do I think the same way about the changes (apparent or actual) in chronology in LOTR? Not really. Overall, the movies follow the chronology of the books quite well—so that, for example, the encounter with Shelob is in The Return of the King in keeping with its chronological place, rather than in The Two Towers, in keeping with its narrative place—and the apparent changes to it are often flashbacks or flash forwards without any clear indication of synchronicity. They are following Tolkien in how he narratively laid out his story, with a few exceptions, and not making major changes to it, except to collapse time intervals to fit better with the film medium. There are no changes on the scale of The Hobbit films and there is no sense that the filmmakers treat Tolkien’s chronology as a hindrance and obstacle to their own project, like in The Hobbit. Also, in these cases of potentially collapsing chronology, the writers of the movies have simply kept the timeline suitably vague to avoid overtly contradicting Tolkien’s chronology. In the case of the seventeen-year gap in FOTR, the movie does not explicitly say it has not been seventeen years, Bilbo’s aging could be taken to indicate a more extensive gap, and the ages of the Hobbits have been left vague. This is something Tolkien himself would have accepted, per Letter #210 criticizing another (attempted) adaptation, “Time must naturally be left vaguer in a picture than in a book; but I cannot see why definite time-statements, contrary to the book and to probability, should be made.” Whatever other changes Jackson and co. might make, and I remark on them, they are of a different scale and character than The Hobbit (and the even worse case of The Rings of Power).