(avg. read time: 28–56 mins.)
Episode 2
I do not have much to say about the title sequence that makes its first appearance in this episode. We get specks forming into two trees, rings, and other shapes, as well as a mix of dark specks swirling in to signify evil (along with the musical cue). It’s fine, as is the music that accompanies it. It is probably the most visually interesting thing we have gotten out of the series thus far (with the possible exception of the tree carvings in Lindon). In terms of title sequences that go through imagery from the show without showing the characters, I would say I prefer Daredevil’s to this, but that’s just me.
Galadriel Phelps?
Anyway, getting into the substance of the episode, we open with Galadriel starting to swim all the way back to Middle-earth. Considering what an awful idea this was for her to jump out of the boat at the last possible minute before the cloud barrier closed, if for no other reason but to maximize the drama, one might be motivated to ask a question. Could she not have taken a boat back from Valinor? The prologue shows that she came to Middle-earth on a boat from Valinor in the first place. So why would that no longer be possible, even without taking into account Tolkien’s lore? Were those attendants on the ship also not going to sail back? Did they do something amazing too to be given passage to the Undying Lands? Also, could she not have picked a better time to go overboard so that she would not need to cross the near entirety of the Sundering Seas? Of course, as we will learn, she could not have, because otherwise the contrivances of the plot would surely not have been possible.
Nori and Her Asteroid Man
After we are made to reckon with Galadriel’s poor choices, the scene transitions to Nori investigating the crater left by Asteroid Man. This scene involves some iffy visual effects with unconvincing fire combined with convenience as Nori manages to fall down the one part of the crater that is not on fire, but she still learns that the burning pit is not hot (because magic I guess, maybe a wizard literally did it, depending on who Asteroid Man is). Asteroid Man eventually wakes up and grabs Nori for a jump scare while yelling at her. Then we see why the fire effects look so fake (besides making sure no one actually got burned), as the fire is temporarily extinguished by being sucked towards Asteroid Man at the center only to reignite after he passes out, for some reason (who knows what the fire would reignite upon). It is all just visual flare.
While he is passed out, Nori and Poppy take it upon themselves to take Asteroid Man somewhere else to give him shelter and a place to hide. I know I have not said anything about Poppy to this point, but that is because her characterization is quite simple. She is the side character who says, “we shouldn’t do the thing,” to which Nori says, “I’m gonna do the thing,” and Poppy just goes along for the ride anyway. The reiterated conflict—they have gone to this well in both episodes thus far—all seems rather pointless when the writers seem to make inevitable the way the conflict will turn out.
Of course, Poppy will still register complaints while going along with whatever Nori wants to do, as in the long trip they make with Asteroid Man in the little cart. When she criticizes Nori for getting her roped up with this stranger, Nori responds, “I didn’t go looking for this.” Oh, so she’s just lying now. Because she literally went looking for the asteroid and where it hit. And, of course, she is the one who went down into the crater. Maybe we are not supposed to be so sympathetic to this character who is a blatant liar after all. But the script is not going to be consistent with such a notion, so I guess we are just dealing with sloppy writing.
Two other questions arise here in this whole sequence. First, on the level of practicality, how did Nori and/or Poppy get those lanterns that they use from the village without Sadoc seeing them? They are stealing lanterns, things that give off light, and lanterns that they cannot easily cover, so you would think that the lanterns would give Sadoc an indication of where the person carrying one is going. We also see the sizes of these lanterns in relation to the Harfoots and there is no way anyone is carrying both of them without being conspicuous.
Second, what is with the secrecy? She and Poppy could have told everyone about the asteroid, maybe they could have even left out the part about her actually going into the pit (it would at least be better than keeping the whole thing a secret). Maybe we see her willing to face the consequences of going off on her own out of inquisitiveness, but she also shows interest in letting everyone know about this man who was in the asteroid. Considering that she has seen that he is potentially dangerous, you would think the others (some of whom must have seen the asteroid, if not where it landed) might need to know about him and that they would need to protect themselves. We have no reason to think they would try to kill Asteroid Man; they would just try to avoid him like they did the hunters earlier. Alternatively, if we are supposed to think that the Harfoots are helpful (as Nori insists), this could be a way for them to show their quality in not leaving a stranger to potentially die out there by himself. In that case, telling others would potentially be more helpful to the stranger she is concerned about. Either way, why keep everything about this a secret? If anything, this secrecy makes Nori less endearing and sympathetic.
Arondir Goes Down the Hole
We then cut back to Hordern. As Arondir and Bronwyn investigate the village, Arondir notes that there are no bodies and no wounded. What Hordern does have is a big hole in the middle that Arondir decides to investigate. (There is also a nonsensical exchange here where the possibility of a “groundshake” instead of an “earthquake” is brought up, even though they certainly would have felt something living that far away and it would explain so little about what they see.) Why are all the bodies gone? Why did the Orcs invade via digging? Why was it relevant that some long, long time ago they were allied with Morgoth? The first two questions will be answered later, but the last will likely never be answered.
When the time comes for Arondir and Bronwyn to part—because for some reason he must go down the hole by himself and not go for backup—he pulls her back to him to … look at her. No final words, no other physical contact of any kind, certainly no kiss. It was this moment in particular that illustrated for me how difficult it is to buy that these two are so in love with each other that they are willing to keep their relationship going surreptitiously against all objections from both of their respective races. He made indirect remarks about beauty in the last episode that were supposed to apply to her. But thus far I have not seen anything from him in his actions to suggest chemistry here. I kind of see it from her side, because the actress does well with subtle hints of facial expressions and body language to convey her feelings in spite of her words, whereas his role is overly leaning on words that I am not convinced of the feeling behind them (somewhat like Anakin Skywalker as a romancer in the Star Wars prequels). In any case, we still have no bases for attraction and relationship here.
I will also say that Bronwyn was surprisingly composed in this scene. She did not seem terribly concerned. Bear in mind, this is her hometown; this is where she grew up. The writers decided to take time out of the last episode to talk about just that. She was still familiar enough with the place to remember people’s names there. Yet her reaction is all quite subdued upon seeing her hometown burned down and being faced with the possibility, for all she knows, that everyone here could be dead. I guess she never really liked these people anyway.
Eregion and the Silliness of the Past
We next cut to Eregion without a map transition. I said before that I think the map transitions were a good touch and I meant that. They are not necessary for revisiting locations, but it would help if they were present each time we are introduced to a new location. We will later be shown where this is on the map, but why not start that way? Also, this should technically be Ost-in-Edhil, the capital of Eregion, not Eregion full stop. I suppose Jackson’s FOTR did not explicitly narrow down that the dwelling place of Galadriel and Celeborn was not Lothlórien in general but Caras Galadhon in particular, but there is a difference there. It was called “Caras Galadhon” in the script; it was just never explicitly stated by anyone speaking in the movie or in a caption on screen. In this case, both the characters and the script, as signified by the text on the screen, have this problem for Lindon and Eregion.
Furthermore, this is one of our potentially clearer hints of chronology. Eregion was not founded until ~750 in the Second Age, though it is unclear for how long it has been around as far as this show is concerned. As such, any thought that Galadriel’s quest involved a lower number of centuries (say, two or three) must be thrown out. If this is supposed to be closer in time to the forging of the Rings of Power, we would actually be talking over 1,000 years since Morgoth’s defeat, which they have undersold simply by describing that quest in terms of “centuries.” But the chronological confusion for this show is actually going to get worse, so sit tight. I will try to summarize the issues next episode when the real monsoon of confusion arrives.
Unlike in Lindon, we do have a setting that is clearly inside the city, as it is inside of a building. Elrond sees Fëanor’s hammer there … for some reason. This is a show-only thing that this hammer was held in such reverence, but it is not an unreasonable interpolation. Another thing that is true “for some reason” is that the script has waited until now to mention the Silmarils, despite their theft being crucial to the incitement of the war in the First Age in Tolkien’s work. They were Fëanor’s most beloved work, and they contained the light of the Two Trees, thus they could have been used to restore the Two Trees if Morgoth had not stolen them. I explain this to my audience who might not know the backstory. However, there is no reason for Elrond to be saying this to Celebrimbor or for Celebrimbor to say what he does to Elrond, since they should both know.
It is also odd that only the hammer is preserved here, and that Elrond says that this one tool that wrought the Silmarils created so much beauty and so much pain. Again, it is odd hearing this now, considering that Galadriel never mentioned the Silmarils as being important in the first episode, so the audience who has not read The Silmarillion or paid close attention to the references to the Silmarils in LOTR might not be aware—based on references in the show—of why they led to so much pain. It is also odd for Elrond to say “this one tool” did this. Unless Elrond thinks jewels are made just with hammers and no chisels or other equipment, it would not have been this one tool. Otherwise, I shudder to think of Elrond making amateur jewelry if he thought you only needed a hammer. Of course, this problem would never have arisen if the line had just omitted the word “one.”
But in any case, apropos of nothing, Celebrimbor responds to this meditation by Elrond about this hammer with saying, “True creation requires sacrifice.” This principle is illustrated with nothing. It fits with neither Elrond’s line before, nor the line Celebrimbor says after it. Elrond was not talking about sacrifice. Celebrimbor mentions nothing about sacrifice in their formation. One would presume that this has to do with the “pain” mentioned, but that pain is seen as a result, not a cause for the making of the Silmarils. You will also find nothing of Tolkien that suggests Fëanor sacrificed anything to make the Silmarils. He certainly poured himself into the Silmarils as he did no other craft of his, as we see in this line from The Silmarillion, “For the less even as for the greater there is some deed that he may accomplish but once only; and in that deed his heart shall rest. It may be that I can unlock my jewels, but never again shall I make their like; and if I must break them, I shall break my heart, and I shall be slain; first of all the Eldar in Aman” (“Of the Flight of the Noldor”). But he mentions no sacrifice involved in their making here or elsewhere. It would seem that this greatest of the works of the Elves puts the lie to Celebrimbor’s claim.
As I said before, the line that follows after has nothing to do with how Celebrimbor opened his response, but what he says should be quoted in full for analysis:
They say that Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful that after he had stolen them, for weeks he could do nothing but stare into their depths. It was only after one of his tears fell upon the jewels and he was faced with the evil of his own reflection that the reverie was finally broken. From that moment, he looked upon their light no more. Fëanor’s work nearly turned the heart of the Great Foe himself. What has my work ever accomplished?
Naturally, to correct this account, one would need to appeal to The Silmarillion, but no such thing is hinted in any of the references in LOTR. In fact, Morgoth was in the process of fleeing for some time after he stole the Silmarils and even engaged in a fight with Ungoliant over them (in which he was saved by his Balrogs). He then set the three jewels in a crown, which he wore upon his head until he was finally defeated (though one jewel was taken by Beren and Lúthien, which ultimately ended up in the possession of Eärendil and enabled him to reach the Undying Lands to appeal for help for Middle-earth). The whole thing about one of his tears falling on the jewels and being faced with his own evil reflection fits with nothing in Tolkien’s work (nor does it make sense that one tear would bear such a reflection). As a matter of fact, Varda/Elbereth had hallowed the Silmarils so that nothing of evil will could touch them without being scorched, and indeed Morgoth’s hands were scorched ever after he first laid hands on them. The sort of thing that Celebrimbor talks about here could not have happened in Tolkien’s story. The notion that the Silmarils nearly turned the heart of Morgoth is similarly baffling in light of Tolkien’s story. In fact, the lust of the Silmarils was a driving force in Morgoth’s destructive purposes. The effect of beauty on Morgoth was not one of appealing to something unfallen in him (and certainly not something that forced him to face his own ugliness), but was instead an inspiration of lust, as would also be the case when he beheld the beauty of Lúthien. But as I said, those who have not read otherwise would not know any better than Celebrimbor’s inane claims, almost as if this show relies on ignorance of Tolkien.
All of this leads to the actual business of why Elrond is in Eregion. Celembrimbor says that he wants to build greater works for the Elves, for which reason he needs help to build a tower that would house a forge greater than any ever built. He says he needs it completed by the spring. Why? For a contrivance we will find out more about later. This contrived need is what was necessary to get Elrond sent to Eregion. Celebrimbor would need a greater workforce than any previously assembled to finish such a project in that window of time, a force that Gil-galad says he could not send, and so instead he sent Elrond. Based on what follows, this is because of Elrond’s connection with the Dwarves. Whence comes the urgency and impatience uncharacteristic of an Elf, much less of the greatest of the Elven craftsmen of his time (who must know the patience needed for great works)? Again, it is contrivance, since the plot as the writers contrived it requires it to happen, but we will get to that in a few weeks.
We’re Off to See the Dwarves, the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm
After Elrond’s suggestion of looking for a workforce outside the race of the Elves, we finally get a map transition again to Khazad-dûm. This has the benefit of showing people how close the realms were and thus how natural it would be for there to be relations between them if they could overcome the typical animus between Elves and Dwarves. (It also raises questions for audience members who have not read Tolkien’s books to wonder what happened to Eregion that we do not see anything but scattered ruins of it in LOTR). Although, outside of LOTR we learn that this relationship was forged by Galadriel and not Elrond. And this was despite Celeborn’s distrust of the Dwarves. This was because Galadriel and Celeborn ruled over Eregion when it was founded, and because Galadriel had the insight to see the value in an alliance with the Dwarves, in part because of her own wisdom regarding people, more so than Celeborn had, and in part because she was present for the good days of Doriath before the relations of Elves and Dwarves there were ruined, which Celeborn might have initially held against them. But as we have established, Galadriel needs to go on a pointless side-quest full of contrivances, and this show’s version of her has zero people skills in stark contrast with her book counterpart. And because Elrond is a POV character, we need to give him something to do, rather than have Celebrimbor take any initiative, though that too would make sense (and he is the ruler of Eregion mentioned in LOTR).
As Elrond and Celebrimbor travel to the western door of Khazad-dûm, they have an exchange that is once again quite artificial. Apparently, Elrond waited through that whole journey from Eregion until now to finally tell Celebrimbor why he had this idea. He only mentions now that Durin is almost like a brother to him. You would think Celebrimbor would have asked about that before they left. But again, at least in this case, we are getting information that the audience needs when the audience needs it, not when the characters in the story need it.
There is also an odd part here when Celebrimbor expresses his admiration for the Dwarves. It is not that he expresses this admiration; it is how he does it. He says they sculpt the rock “with respect of one who cares for an aged parent.” How does such a notion make sense for an immortal Elf? What experience would he have with such a thing that it makes sense as a simile?
As the conversation goes on, Elrond expresses his surprise at the admiration Celebrimbor has for the Dwarves, given the antipathy most of their race has towards them. Celebrimbor says, “I admire all who can see into the mystery of things, who can divine from the plainness of what is the beauty of what could be.” I think this is the first of these attempts at sounding wise that lands as it should, in that the point does not become muddled by the indirectness. It is a fitting line for a craftsman to admire other craftsmen regardless of their race. It is precisely characteristics like this that make him a natural ally for the Dwarves. It is a wonder, then, that he did not think of this alliance before and needed Elrond to come make things happen for him.
As this is supposed to be a time before relations are established between Eregion and Khazad-dûm, that is why we have a different door on the western entrance than the famous Door of Durin from LOTR. As said in LOTR, Celebrimbor himself carved the symbols on that door. Specifically, these were the Doors of Durin III, who also received the greatest of the seven Rings of Power given to the Dwarves. The fact that we are going to be dealing with Durin III (but only much later in the episode) is a sign of further problems to come chronologically.
However, the specific Dwarf that Elrond requests to see is Durin IV. For whatever reason, the writers have it that Elrond knows the prince and not the king, and so since the Durin who received one of the Rings of Power was Durin III, they seem to infer that his son must be Durin IV. But if they had checked the Appendices, they would notice that Durin I reigned sometime around the First Age, Durin III reigned in a span that included 1600 in the Second Age (~2,000 years later), around when he would have received his Ring of Power, then Durin VI lived from 1731 to 1980 in the Third Age when the Balrog/Durin’s Bane was found (over 3,500 years later), and Durin VII lived sometime in the Fourth Age (well over 1,000 years after Durin VI’s death). A clear inference from these gaps between the first, third, sixth, and seventh of the name is that the Durins do not immediately succeed each other, particularly since it was a popular belief among the Dwarves that the Durins resemble Durin I and so are his reincarnations (whether this was possible or not is not said). Thus, Durin IV would not have been Durin III’s direct son. In fact, he may have been the Durin who was king of Khazad-dûm during the War of the Last Alliance. But even if they changed his name and kept Durin III as the king, that would still create chronological difficulties as we see already that Durin III must have been born well after 1,000 years after the defeat of Morgoth.
Anyway, back to the story we are being fed. Elrond knows how to get an audience with Durin IV, despite the latter’s lack of desire to see him. He invokes the rite of “sigin-tarâg.” This is an invention of the show that is a Dwarven test of endurance involving breaking stones with hammers, supposedly conceived by Aulë himself (the Vala who formed the Dwarves; ; though they called him Mahal, which Durin never calls him, for some reason). The basic idea is easy to make sense of as a sport for Dwarves, and so there is nothing inherently wrong with it as an addition to Tolkien’s lore. The problems come with the scenes surrounding it, which we will get to. (Fun fact, by the way: sigin-tarâg is Khuzdul [Dwarvish] for “Longbeards,” one of the kinds of Dwarves [The Peoples of Middle-earth, 321], so it doesn’t really have anything to do with a contest like this.) But for some reason, with the invocation of this rite, even though Elrond brought Celebrimbor to meet Durin IV, Celebrimbor is made to wait outside, which will turn out to be a mistake for conveying information to the audience. But it is unclear why he is made to wait outside, why he does not want to come in at all, and why he is fine with the prospect of just walking straight back.
This leads us to seeing Khazad-dûm in its glory days. It is certainly beautiful, and the overall best-looking setting I have seen thus far. It serves as a contrast to Lindon and Valmar, other cities that were made to look glorious from a distance. In the case of Valmar, we never see the inside of it, so its quality as a setting is on par with a map painting. In the case of Lindon, we have the establishing shot of the city, but we are never in a setting within or near any of the buildings we see, which leads to a visual disconnect. These problems are not present for Khazad-dûm, as we are brought through this realm to see all the beautiful cave structure, the lights, the waterfalls, the things growing within; it all makes for a good setting. I will say, though, that having all of this so close to the western entrance creates a difference with how LOTR describes that portion of Khazad-dûm, especially with how dark it and so much of the rest of Khazad-dûm is through that journey. Even taking account of the fact that the realm has been abandoned for some time and fell from glory long before the story, the basic structure of that part of the city cannot be reconciled with the visual we see here. Also, it would look better if it was not so obviously a composite shot. Finally, it does not really make sense that they are farming here, because there is no way they are producing enough food through cave farming for this realm.
After Elrond has traveled to the hall where the sigin-tarâg will take place, Durin IV arrives. Now let’s discuss Durin IV. The actor who plays him, Owain Arthur, probably has the most natural line delivery of the entire cast. He brings plenty of life to the character, whether in the roles of ruler, adversary, estranged friend, husband, or father (none of these roles has any special depth presented, though, because he is having to play so many). It is unfortunate that he is given a bad script to work with, but he presents it with as much conviction as he can manage. There are layers to his character in his relationship with Elrond, but he flips the switch of reconciliation rather quickly, considering the problems he has, and he ends up going back on his word rather easily when it comes to banishing Elrond. But we will get to that.
For no apparent in-universe reason, Durin begins explaining the rite of sigin-tarâg to his fellow Dwarves. And I mean he explains everything about it. This actually would have been a good reason to bring Celebrimbor along, since he is new to all of this and would need the contest explained to him. Durin or Elrond could do it, but it would make sense that this explanation would be given to someone who does not know; it does not make sense for this audience of Dwarves. I am not sure even that is necessary, because the contest is pretty straightforward, and we could gather information from watching it unfold. I think either is a legitimate choice a writer could make, but only if we have someone who does not know what the contest is. Of course, we know that Durin is providing this explanation for us, the audience at home, but unless you are writing him to break the fourth wall—and I would really need to know the justification for that in this setting—this is the essence of clumsy exposition, where characters tell other characters what each of them already know for no apparent reason but to let the audience in on what is happening. In fact, Durin gets so into this bad exposition that he almost repeats what happens if Elrond loses, which he is only prevented from doing by Elrond cutting him off. Why was he going to repeat himself so soon? The world will never know.
Of course, it could be that the stakes of this contest are variable and need to be stated beforehand (rather than having everything about it explained to people who know). But this, too, will create problems. The stakes are established as follows. If Elrond should forfeit this contest, he will be banished from all Dwarven lands forever. If Elrond should win, he will be granted a single boon. Those stakes seem pretty unbalanced, but that is perhaps not surprising, given the sense of hostility we are getting here. Yet, despite establishing these stakes in front of his people, we will see that Durin is not all that serious about upholding them, which will inevitably undermine the gravity of this situation. As a consequence, the whole contest will essentially become filler. If you cut it out from the story and just went with Elrond wanting to apologize to Durin, you would miss nothing in terms of plot development. But it would leave this show a few minutes short of their target runtime, I suppose. I cannot help but wonder if this contest was something of a last-minute addition, but even if it was, that does not necessitate it being such an ill fit. Probably the best scene of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine’s exceptional “The Way of the Warrior” episode—the scene of Quark and Garak at the bar—was a last-minute addition to fill the runtime.
Asteroid Man Is Lost and the Harfoots Are Horrible
When we go back to Rhovanion to see the Harfoots again, we get Nori’s first proper introduction to Asteroid Man. The man yells at her and we get an effect that imitates one scene in particular of Gandalf from Jackson’s FOTR, where he darkens the setting around him, and all these trees lurch forward towards him. But Nori tries to communicate with him through odd interaction where she seems to be using sign language. It is not so much odd that she uses sign language, but it has not been established why she would use it. At least, I am guessing it is sign language with this odd thing she does with touching her ear to signify a deal and the way she puts her hand out with her fingers curled up to give her name. Asteroid Man imitates these mannerisms, but still cannot properly communicate. In fact, he cannot seem to remember his name. I guess crashing into the ground in an asteroid will give you amnesia convenient for mystery-box storytelling.
Concurrently with this scene we see what the other Harfoots are doing. Nori’s mom (Marigold) nags at her dad (Largo) to help with something. What is odd about this is that he is already working on a wheel, and she is sitting on her bum helping with nothing. Apparently, this is supposed to be a “haha, isn’t marriage funny” sort of thing. But it just makes Marigold look bad, especially since Largo is going to break his ankle holding up a post that literally no one else is helping him with. I guess Nori was wrong, it is part of “who we [the Harfoots] are” to not help someone they see is in need.
Also, the concurrence they make between these scenes is certainly an odd decision. I get that it is supposed to build tension, though I would think that is well enough accomplished just by playing the scene among the Harfoots straight and seeing what jerks all the Harfoots are in not helping Largo. It also has this odd effect that Largo’s ankle breaking is synchronized with Asteroid Man’s stick breaking. What do you think this is trying to convey?
As for Asteroid Man and his stick: he is using the stick to try to tell Nori where he is from. All he does is draw a bunch of lines. At first, it seems like these are letters of some obscure language. But we find out near the end of the episode that he is supposed to be signifying constellations. He remembers enough to remember constellations, but not his name or how to communicate it. But he also conveniently does not remember the best way to communicate about constellations in the absence of words. It would surely have worked much better for him to start with drawing dots, then draw lines connecting them, and then point to the sky. That would be the way to hint that you are drawing constellations to someone who conveniently happens to know what constellations are.
Anyway, Poppy shows up to tell Nori about her dad, at least after Asteroid Man acts like he’s going to kill Poppy and Nori intervenes (somehow “Asteroid Man” understands the word “friend”). Nori sees how terribly her dad broke his ankle and she blames herself for it. When we she walks out of her family’s hut, Sadoc asks Nori if Largo can migrate. Nori just walks off instead of answering. One of the women we never see do anything, named Malva, says what everyone else could see (and did nothing to stop), and notes that he obviously can’t put any weight on it. This prompts Poppy to walk back to her and tell her the equivalent of “mind your own business.” That seems like a non sequitur and not particularly appropriate for the culture either. Sadoc kind of needs to know if he can migrate on his own, if someone will need to help him, or (as turns out to be most likely) if they would be leaving him behind. That’s somewhat important information for a community that migrates together, whose safety consists in watching out for each other (but not helping each other apparently). It is not just a private affair. Of course, all of this seems moot, because we know they have a cart that they can pull him in, just like Nori and Poppy did with the much bigger Asteroid Man. But like I said, we needed to get this show to just under an hour somehow.
A Silly Interlude to Silly Swimming
The scene then transitions out to the sea. And yup, she is still swimming. I can just see Dory out there somewhere saying, “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.” She has obviously swum for a long time now, but who knows how long (not least because it is unclear how the events across the storylines synchronize). Of course, even the writers acknowledge it would be ridiculous for her to swim all the way back. It is not so ridiculous that they would not try to set this up in the first place, but it is ridiculous enough that they need some contrivance to head her off. This contrivance comes in the form of people floating on a makeshift raft, people who are survivors of a ship attacked by “The Worm.” Of course, this whole scenario too raises questions about where they are. We saw from the map before that there is a lot of empty sea between the Grey Havens and Valinor. So where could they have come from that they are somewhere on the farther half of that map? Why were they so far out? Or is it that she literally has swam most of the way back? That seems unlikely, given the setting of the next episode in Númenor. We find out later that at least one of the people on this boat is from the Southlands, so where was he going that he ended up all the way out here? Or has she gotten so far off course that she swam even further to end somewhere closer to the Southlands? Who knows? Given that our next episode will lead us to Númenor, it seems that both Galadriel and these people have somehow gotten far out of the way.
Anyway, the people on the raft have a big hullabaloo about whether or not to let her on. A man on the raft does not offer to help her but says “The tides of fate are flowing. Yours will be heading in or out.” What a useless statement. The first sentence is taken from something Galadriel says in FOTR (II/7), which was meant to punctuate that things are now in motion as a result of choices made and Frodo and the Fellowship need to get going. The statement does nothing in this context, except to emphasize “hey, we’re among tides; did you notice?” The add-on that even sounds like a clear add-on contributes nothing, because it just means in this context “You may get on this raft or not.” All the statement in general means is, “X will happen or it won’t.”
A woman on the raft decides “cruelty will not be our deliverance” and brings her on. But then everyone turns hostile as soon as they (rather quickly) find out that she is an Elf. But then that racism gets interrupted when they see what looks like a ship in the distance. One of the passengers says to be cautious because “Corsairs prowl these waters.” This statement is potentially problematic for two reasons. One, depending on where exactly we are in the timeline of the Second Age, it is unlikely that pirates would be a significant problem in light of the naval dominance that Númenor would have attained by this point. Two, if we are supposed to hear this and remember the Corsairs from ROTK, those Corsairs of Umbar were not a group until well into the Third Age. Either way, this worry does not work in this context.
Regardless, they see that the ship is their ship that the Worm destroyed. This means that the monster is back. Then the same woman who pulled Galadriel out of the water pushes her right back in while accusing her of leading the Worm to them. I guess you think cruelty will be your deliverance after all. So now that Galadriel is back in the water, do you think she is going to use her powers by which she kills monsters singlehandedly to save everyone? Nope. She just swims away. Eh, I guess they deserved to die; look at what jerks they were to her. Because, of course, that is what happens: almost everyone on that raft died and she got to live, because apparently the Worm is not concerned with her. Maybe he can sense she is an Elf, and he doesn’t like the taste of Elf meat? Who knows? Who cares?
Somehow, the one guy who recited Book Galadriel’s line to Amazon Galadriel survived all of that. It looks like he detached one part of the makeshift raft from the rest of it. We find out his name is Halbrand, he is a Southlander, and he is here to be our Sawyer from Lost. She will throw out some criticism towards him for abandoning everyone else to die, even though she did the same thing. And unlike Galadriel, who has been established by this own show’s standards as an overpowered monster-killer, we have not seen that Halbrand had any particular ability to fight back against the sea monster.
Honestly, what was the point of any of that? Really, we know that it was because the writers wanted some action here, and what better way to have action in a fantasy setting at sea than to have a sea monster scene. But we also can’t put our main character at risk. Thus, we need some other no-names to be sacrificial offerings for the sake of the scene. But for all that this mess contributed to the plot, they might as well have just had Halbrand drifting on a raft by himself and coming across Galadriel, then the scene would continue as it does anyway. We simply would not be at a runtime just under an hour before the credits. It would be no more contrived of an encounter, it would advance the plot to the same extent, and it would cut out the excess that included a scene where our hero swam away and left people to die.
Friendship Ended with Elrond?
Speaking of pointless things, let’s go back to Khazad-dûm. Durin and Elrond are about to wrap up this Dwarven test of endurance. Elrond gets to a point where he breaks the shaft of the hammer of the stone. You would think that would make him lose the contest outright. Surely part of testing endurance is testing composure and Elrond appears to be losing his if he broke his hammer in this fashion. But then he is given a replacement hammer, and after a few seconds of dead air, he lays down the replacement hammer and concedes. The writers could have written this scene in such a way that Elrond lost after the hammer broke or that he conceded before the hammer broke (you could even come up with a reason that he is seeing Durin getting winded). The only reason to feature both ideas in this scene is to extend it. Of course, it would have been better to skip this pointless contest altogether.
Another benefit to skipping the contest would have been skipping Durin’s final taunt. That taunt goes, “A dog may bark at the moon, but he cannot bring it down.” On the one hand, this seems like a generic taunt that is apropos of nothing in this specific situation. You would think he might go for a saying that is more targeted (especially since it is not as if Elrond was “barking” incessantly in a similar fashion). On the other hand, it makes little sense as a saying from a Dwarf. We have not seen that they have dogs or are otherwise familiar with dogs. Maybe they know a thing or two about Wargs and wolves already at this point in their history, but not dogs per se. You might think he would find a metaphor more fitting for his context, for his culture of living within a mountain, being surrounded by stone.
In any case, after the contest, Elrond asks for Durin to escort him out, at which point he is apparently supposed to be enforcing the consequences of what he declared in front of his people. As they take the elevator up (whether it is to that western entrance or to another one is not particularly clear), we finally find out why Durin is so hostile to Elrond, despite Elrond’s claims earlier. Elrond mentions that Durin and his people have done a lot since he was last there, which turns out to be twenty years. I do not think we are necessarily supposed to infer that most of everything we see has been made in the last twenty years, but we also have no point of reference (Elrond might have said an example or two). But Durin is having none of his pleasantries or his proposal because twenty years means a lot more to him than it does to the immortal Elrond (even though Dwarves live longer than Men, they are still mortal). Elrond missed his wedding, the births of his first two children, and never visited at all. On the one hand, I think the fundamental purpose they are trying to accomplish here of illustrating the differences in how immortal Elves and mortal Dwarves conceive of lengths of time is worth considering. It is a fascinating difference with our own world that pulls us in to learn more about this fantasy world. But the manner in which they have gone about illustrating this just makes Elrond look bad. For Durin to be mad that Elrond missed his wedding, he must have sent an invitation to let Elrond know about it, Elrond declined, and presumably he provided no explanation for his absence. Likewise, Durin probably let Elrond know about the birth of at least one of his children, Elrond still never visited, and presumably Elrond still never explained himself. He has never even written a letter or done anything to maintain contact with this Dwarf he says is almost like a brother. And now, as Durin rightly says, he has only shown up after twenty years because he wants something (also, Elrond lies about his intentions, but Durin isn’t buying it, nor should the audience who was awake during the earlier parts of this episode). There is the potential aloofness that immortality brings and then there is just being a bad friend, and these things show the latter quality for Elrond. The show also rather clearly implies that all of this is true about Elrond, since he does not even try to defend himself. What he does ask for is a chance to apologize to Durin’s wife.
Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?
Then, despite what he said in front of his people about the consequences of losing the challenge of endurance, he invites Elrond into his home for what he claims will be a brief visit. He tries to lay some ground rules about how the interaction with his wife will go. As he does so, the writers then telegraph to the audience what the next few minutes of the show will be, as he says, “One apology to Disa and you’re off. No getting better acquainted, no reminiscing about the past, and absolutely no staying for dinner.” This means that Elrond will apologize to Disa, Disa will get better acquainted with him, they will do some reminiscing about the past, and Disa will insist that he stays for dinner.
As for Disa, played by Sophia Nomvete, a few comments are in order. Her name is obviously derived from Dís, the only female Dwarf Tolkien mentions by name. Since the first publicity photos of Nomvete as Disa were posted, people have made a point of how her appearance does not make sense in Tolkien’s lore. Part of this is because she is black, but as I said, I will not be writing more on that issue. The other part that is more firmly grounded in Tolkien’s lore is that she has no beard. Early defenders of the show tried to argue that Tolkien himself never said that Dwarf women had beards and that this was an idea people got from Jackson’s films. But here is what Tolkien says:
It was said by Gimli that there are few dwarf-women, probably no more than a third of the whole people. They seldom walk abroad except at great need. They are in voice and appearance, and in garb if they must go on a journey, so like to the dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other people cannot tell them apart. This has given rise to the foolish opinion among Men that there are no dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves ‘grow out of stone’. (Appendix A.III)
While it is technically true that Tolkien does not write the words that “Dwarf women have beards,” given his description above and how often he describes Dwarves as having beards, this is a pretty clear inference. Otherwise, one would wonder how other people cannot tell them apart if the men go about with beards and the women do not. I understand it might have seemed strange, maybe even off-putting, to put a beard on a woman and take it seriously, but if you make the decision to put a Dwarf princess in your show, this is what you need to reckon with. Of course, she is not the only Dwarf woman shown that lacks this feature; she is simply the most prominent.
That issue with the canonical accuracy of her appearance aside, Disa is probably the most appealing character thus far. She is affable, hospitable, boisterous, and strong-willed (but in a motherly fashion and not an off-putting “screw everyone else” fashion like Galadriel). But we do not really see anything about her character outside of this setting in the home, so time will tell if we will get to know her on any significantly deeper level as a character.
But let’s go back to the scene. This whole part of the episode is not especially remarkable, but if we are grading on a curve set by the rest of the show, this is the best part. It is average, but it is better than what we have gotten otherwise. There is a basic yet refreshing charm to this homely sequence of meeting this Dwarven family. And it is held together by layers of different emotions stemming from the interactions that lifts it above the nonsensical and confusing morass of what we have seen thus far. However, it does not escape the writing problems that have plagued the show as a whole.
First, Elrond asks how this couple first got acquainted. But he already knows both of them, so why would he not know? It would be another thing if he asked to be reminded of how they first met, but even that is suspect given what we have seen of the quality of Elven memories (consider that Arondir says that he has not seen particular seeds since he was a child, even though that was a long time ago). This is another case in which it would have made sense to bring Celebrimbor in, rather than just leave him to walk all the way back to Eregion after getting to do nothing in Khazad-dûm. Since Celebrimbor does not know these people, the question would make sense coming from him.
Next, Disa explains to him that they met while she was “resonating.” This is a practice by which the Dwarves sing to the stone to learn about it from the resonance. This is some interesting information for the audience, as it gives some more insight into how the Dwarves live. But again, why is she telling this to Elrond? Are we supposed to believe that someone who knew both of them and who was so close with Durin, the prince of this realm, would not know what resonating is, despite how important it is to the Dwarves’ way of life? Yet again, this would have been a good reason to bring Celebrimbor into Khazad-dûm.
Then, the conversation eventually moves to discussing the tree in the background that Elrond had noticed earlier. It turns out to have come from a sapling Elrond gave Durin from “the great tree” in Lindon. Disa even teases Durin while he looks away that he tends that tree like it’s their third child. This is some decent character material here. It shows how through all of this Durin still cares for his friendship with Elrond, despite how justifiably angry he was with him. He did not give up on this gift his once-close friend gave him, but he ensured that it grew.
But even this part has problems surrounding it. Disa mentions how people were skeptical that the tree could grow in such a dark place. This is an artificial line to set up Elrond saying, “Where there is love, it is never truly dark. How can it not grow in a home like yours?” That line by itself is not necessarily a problem, but the fact that it so clearly crowbarred into the scene is. The skepticism about it growing in the darkness does not fit with what see, because that tree is very clearly under a shaft of light, and in a place where it gets water. Thus, there is dissonance between what we are told and what we see. But that line is one of the last things Elrond needs to smooth things over with Durin so that he will hear his proposal to get the Dwarves to help build the forge and tower, so the writers apparently considered it necessary to force it in here rather than finding an alternate route to the same goal.
Amazon Galadriel Is Still on the Sea
With that, we leave an average but flawed scene to go see something worse. Namely, we go to see Amazon Galadriel. Halbrand mentions in this conversation that he is a Southlander. How did he come to be out at sea? He was driven from his home by Orcs wiping out his people. I’m sorry … what? This statement, which is supposed to begin forging a connection between Galadriel and Halbrand, raises multiple issues with the rest of the show. One, we already know there are Elves stationed in the Southlands. If the Orcs have been causing such a problem that they could wipe out villages beyond Hordern and drive people to the coast to flee to the sea, how have they not noticed? Why have they not seen any Orcs? (We will see the attempt to lampshade this next episode, but besides how silly that suggestion is, the fact that they have noticed nothing of the villages being attacked is still a problem.) Two, the implication is that this did not happen yesterday, but the Orcs have been doing this for some time. How, then, was the last sighting of Orcs some vague number of “years” ago? Three, this makes Galadriel look like an even worse hunter. Not only did she take centuries (really, at least a millennium if we are even attempting to be chronologically consistent) looking for Sauron and his Orcs—presumably finding at least some Orcs along the way—but the last place she was looking was on the exact opposite side of Middle-earth from where she could have found a veritable mountain of evidence. She was not only barking up the wrong tree—or rather, the wrong mountain—she was barking up the wrong mountain practically a full continent in the wrong direction. Lloyd Christmas has nothing on how far in the wrong direction she went on her misadventure.
Another part of the conversation that stuck out to me is Galadriel’s claim that she has hunted Sauron “since the first sunrise bloodied the sky.” By the show’s own visuals, this is demonstrably false. We saw a couple cases of daylight in the shots from the First Age before Galadriel takes up the hunt for Sauron. In fact, one of those daylight shots was the scene featuring Sauron. This was also the scene that reminded me of something: the show has told us of how the Trees were destroyed, but it has said nothing about when the sun and moon came to be. In The Silmarillion, the sun and moon come from the last produce of Laurelin and Telperion respectively. They were situated in the sky with the moon coming first and being guided by the Maia Tilion, and the sun being guided by the Maia Arien. Such things are only hinted at in LOTR, with the sun being referred to as “she” and the moon being referred to as “he.” I don’t suppose that the writers could adapt the proper story, as such, to say this about the origin of the sun and moon. But it would help make sense of the fact that this world has light (besides the more distant stars) after the Two Trees. In my own proposed prologue or a scene thereafter, perhaps a child could ask Galadriel about the moon and the Two Trees, with Galadriel saying something about how Valar could no longer make lights as great as the Trees, but set the sun and moon out of Morgoth’s reach to light all of Arda. Again, if there is a rights issue here, you would not need a direct adaptation of the story of The Silmarillion, but this would still be a rough and sufficient equivalent to it.
Village of the Daft
Our next transition brings us back to the Southlands, with Bronwyn trying to warn the other villagers about what happened to Hordern. She tells them that the village was wiped out and everyone here is surprisingly dismissive and unconcerned about it. She is even accused of trying to stir things up … by lying about the destruction of the village she came from. One specific thing that Bronwyn said that perplexed me was her claim that the hole she saw in the village was being dug towards them. How does she know that? She didn’t go down into the hole. You can’t see which direction it’s going from up on the surface. Arondir didn’t even go down and then yell up that the tunnel was headed in the direction of her village (which he couldn’t have known anyway, because there’s always a chance that the tunnel went in another direction further down the line).
But while she is dealing with skepticism for no reason, the scene cuts to her son Theo in their house. Theo had previously complained that he wasn’t getting enough sleep because of all the noise the mice make. At what he thinks are more mice sounds, Theo becomes unhinged and starts striking at the floor with a poker. Now anyone who has had any experience with mice in their homes (like I have) has a basic idea of what they sound like when they are scurrying about. They do not sound like anything this kid heard. But we needed this kid to be a bit slow in the brain to have him bust a hole in the floor to get our creepy reveal of an Orc. Why does the Orc do this, potentially ruining the plan with the tunnel? Don’t know. We’ll never know.
We then cut to Arondir to see him take his leave of this episode. Brave Sir Arondir hears a sound in the tunnel that makes him bravely run away and go swimming. This sequence in general was pretty confusing, but what was most confusing is where the light source is that illuminates Arondir’s swimming and the shot of him ready to kill whatever comes out of the water. In any case, some Orc hands reach out through the vines behind him and capture him. I guess we’ll see his action shot from one of the trailers in the next episode.
Bronwyn comes back to her house to see it ransacked and Theo whispers out from a hiding hole (why it is there and what is actually for I cannot tell) that Bronwyn should go get help. Now in this moment, should Bronwyn: A) Try to rescue her son and get them both out together? B) Go get help because her son seems secure in that hole for the time being? C) Do nothing for her son, run around in the house, and hide herself in a cupboard? If you answered “C),” you must have helped write this show. After all, the writers wanted a setup for a short horror sequence complete with a jump scare, although the blare to signal the jump scare came after the Orc found her, rather than it being simultaneous.
This leads to some absurd combat. Why is it absurd? Let me count the ways. First, this Orc is ridiculously durable. It is remarkably difficult to even slow down, so that the two big blades sticking out of his back irritate him, but don’t seem to actually faze him at all. Second, this Orc is ridiculously strong. He chucks a table with one arm with incredible force, then smashes the stairs leading up to the loft with one strike with his bare hands. He is even strong enough that when he turns after having the second blade shoved into his back, he lifts Bronwyn off her feet and causes wires to appear that throw her against a wall in a fashion that is not possible according to physics (I am not talking about the force with which she is thrown, but the manner in which she is thrown). Third, when the Orc tries to lunge at Bronwyn, she gets incredibly lucky that the handle of that second blade (whatever it is) gets caught in the stairs he didn’t destroy. Otherwise, she would surely be dead. Fourth, when Theo tries to hang the Orc, we are led to believe that he failed because the rope snapped, not because his rope was never going to work that way (he has not formed a noose, just a loop). This action also conveniently dislodges the Orc from that handle-between-the-stairs situation. Fifth, I guess Eru causes another large blade to materialize out of thin air for Bronwyn to retrieve and decapitate the Orc (as if that probably wouldn’t have taken more than one attempt given the durability we have seen heretofore). Sixth, after the failed hanging attempt but before he is decapitated, the Orc suddenly stops doing anything and even stares down Bronwyn as she decapitates him. We are supposed to pretend that he did not have time to act. All of this is just to give Bronwyn her moment of slamming an Orc’s disembodied head on the bar in the butchery-tavern to say, “See? I was right.” Now the village finally has the motivation to get out of Dodge.
Caught in a Storm
Now we must take this opportunity to go back to Galadriel’s story. I know it’s worst story in the show, but they made Amazon Galadriel the main character, so we have to go back. As she and Halbrand are caught in a storm, she fixes herself to the “mast” of the raft … for some reason. Maybe she had seen this done on bigger ships and thought it would work on this rinky-dink raft? Whatever the case may be, this turns out to be a bad idea because she ends up almost dying for doing this when the makeshift mast breaks and falls into the water with her tied to it, and the wood forgets its natural property of floating in the water for the sake of the scene (there is a pulley attached to it that sinks it, but that pulley is made of wood, not stone or metal, though it seems there is a metal band around it). I guess that proves it. No Troll, no Orc, no sea monster, and no Dark Lord could possibly kill Galadriel. Only the plot can pretend to kill her. The plot even knocks her out from no apparent cause. Fortunately for her, Halbrand is there to save her in a most improbable fashion from her self- and plot-inflicted disaster. He does not have to deal with her struggling, because she is conveniently knocked out by … something, nor does he need to worry about resuscitating her, because she apparently does not breathe when she is unconscious, and she wakes up rather easily. Nor does he need to worry about the raft floating away IN A STORM.
The contrivance of this whole scenario is only further accentuated by the fact that the “mast” was broken by lightning. How incredibly unlucky. And not only that, it was plot-driven lightning. After all, this lightning does not work like normal lightning, which, if it struck this raft at all, would strike at the highest point, not near the bottom of this post so that it breaks in this plot-convenient fashion.
Wrapping Things Up
We then return to Nori’s story. After another nonsensical line of how things have gone “three rabbits to the moon” (where would such an analogy even come from? did the Harfoots watch Dragonball when Goku sent a rabbit to the moon?), Nori and Poppy meet with Asteroid Man again. This time, Nori reveals that the lantern uses fireflies, a bunch of fireflies. This is an area where I do not know any better, but I suspect that idea would not work like these lanterns actually work. I am not sure they would be that bright or look that solid, especially given how the lights fireflies produce blink on and off. Fireflies do not live particularly long lives, and you would need to catch a bunch of them for each of however many lanterns they have. They are not easy to find year-round, nor can you find them everywhere, so this is something they would need to take into account when migrating. Whatever, I am putting more thought into this than the writers did.
As Nori shows Asteroid Man the fireflies, he starts speaking to them. This seems like another hint that we are dealing with Gandalf here, at least if they are drawing this idea from the Jackson films where Gandalf speaks to that moth thing. He talks them into placing themselves in front of the stars to show constellations. Then they suddenly die. Why do they die? Don’t know. Maybe because the writers want to create a red herring that this is Sauron. Otherwise, I have not a clue.
Now we are back to wrap up the story with Durin. He seems to have gotten over his spat with Elrond fairly easily, but perhaps the previous scene was meant to suggest that, despite his anger, deep down he wanted to smooth things over with Elrond. At least, that is what one is made to conclude when Durin IV tells his father Durin III (like I said, this relationship is not accurate to the books) Elrond’s proposal and says, “I trust Elrond.” King Durin’s response is … an analogy that actually makes sense. He says, “There can be no trust between hammer and rock. Eventually, one or the other must surely break.” Okay, I get what is being said here, even though it is indirect. It is not indirect for the sake of it, but it is just an efficient way for the king to state his view of how the Elves seek to use the Dwarves and trust doesn’t make sense in that context. The last shot we get of these Durins is of King Durin opening a chest with something shiny inside. I’m guessing it’s mithril, but maybe we will see another time what is in this mystery box.
Then we get one last shot from the Bronwyn storyline as Theo brings out his evil blade to gaze upon it before packing up to leave with everyone else. His blood from his wound on his hand from the ridiculous Orc fight is drawn to it for some reason. In fact, it looks like it makes the blade start to rebuild itself. Why? Don’t know. You’ll have to tune in for the next episode to not find out. (I actually wrote that last line as a joke before episode 3 came out, and I turned out to be right.)
Finally, our last shot of this 62-minute (pre-credits) episode is of Galadriel’s second convenient encounter out in the Sundering Seas. The plot required Galadriel to go to Númenor. And so a Númenórean ship with someone unidentified appears to pick up her and Halbrand. To what end? You’ll have to tune in next time to see.