The Rings of Power Review, Episode 6
"Udûn"
(avg. read time: 47–93 mins.)
Episode 6
(For another breakdown of the action in this episode, I recommend Shadiversity’s autopsy, which came out after I initially wrote this review, and I have not revised it in light of his comments.)
This is the action episode for anyone and everyone waiting for anything to happen in this show. You would hope with so much delay that the payoff will be worth the wait. It is not, but we will get to that. This particular episode has four writers. Justin Doble returns from his work on the last episode, Payne and McKay rejoin the writers’ room, and now we have the addition of Nicholas Adams. Adams’s only writing credit prior to this episode was for a documentary titled Fail State in 2017. Apparently, this was an “all hands on deck” script. It is just too bad that none of these four writers caught that the plot in this episode is only made possible by collective brain damage. What is the point of having so many writers if no one is going to hold any of the others accountable? I’m not really sure. But this group is clearly not stronger together.
Adar: The Pointlessly Confusing Villain of This Picture
The first scene is one of Adar planting something and speaking in Quenya, since I guess he just doesn’t want to let go of that part of his Elf nature, unlike what he’s indicated. We find out later that this is an Elvish tradition of planting something before a battle, to leave the possibility of, as he says in Quenya, “New life in defiance of death.” But why in the world is he doing this? On the one hand, it makes no sense for him in this context if he is thinking to do something to make the sun go away, as implied in the last episode. On the other hand, it makes no sense for him with his history if he is supposed to be one of the first Elves taken by Morgoth to produce the corrupted creatures known as Orcs. This happened even before Oromë, the huntsman of the Valar and the first to encounter the Elves, met them. Thus, the idea of him holding on to some old tradition of his makes no sense because he was not among the Elves when they first went to battle and would, sometime after that, develop this tradition. He certainly would not have picked it up from Morgoth. For this same reason, it is also unclear why he speaks in Quenya rather than translating this idea (as ill-fitting as it is) into Black Speech (a standardized form of Orkish developed by Sauron, which would be fitting here). Quenya was a form of Eldarin that was developed by the Elves who went to the Undying Lands, whereas Sindarin was the common language of Elves in Beleriand in particular. But if Adar was among the first Elves taken by Morgoth, as will be stated more clearly later, why would he speak either? But of the two, it is even less clear why he would speak Quenya. I have noted many times before how it would have helped if the writers paid attention to the lore according to Tolkien, but it would also help if they paid attention to the lore they themselves establish. (I am aware of Tolkien’s later ideas about the origins of Orcs, particularly their mixed stock over the Ages, but those ideas do not apply here when the series is only working from LOTR and its Appendices, and the show is clearly working only with the information about Elvish origin).
Adar then gives a speech to his Orcs talking about how they cast off their shackles (more on that later) and crossed over so many areas they have endured. The Ered Mithrin are the Grey Mountains north of Mirkwood while the Ephel Arnen (as far as I can tell, a name made up for this show) are the Ephel Dúath. I’m not sure why they crossed there and not the Ered Lithui on the north side of the Southlands, but whatever. The rest of the speech is tonally confused, as he says this is the last trial they face before they can claim this land as their own, that the enemy may be weak, but some of these Orcs will still die. You would think Adar would be more motivational and assure them of their overwhelming force, but no. Also, I guess we are supposed to assume for the sake of the show that there are literally no other people in the Southlands in this massive area of Middle-earth that could serve as an obstacle. If he is exaggerating, I am not sure why.
Brain Damage Extends to Both Sides of This Fight, Just Not the Luck (The Ridiculous Tower Trap)
Right after the speech, the next shot is of this Orc army marching across the bridge four abreast to Ostirith, all without resistance. This should have been Adar’s first clue that something was wrong. This long, fairly narrow bridge is the only proper approach to Ostirith and archers would have a veritable shooting gallery in this narrow passage. But the Orcs bear no shields and neither they nor Adar show any suspicion about the lack of resistance when the army is so vulnerable. In fact, just about every Orc carries a torch simply to announce their presence and give their opponents easier targets, even though it would be more intimidating for your enemy if you approached and they had no idea how many of you there are (or if you at least waited to light torches until you got closer).
In fact, Adar just walks right up and pushes open the door, like he expected to be able to do it. He does not try to call out to the defenders, he does not blow a horn in challenge. He just walks right into what he should now see is an obvious trap. He does not even send a scouting party ahead into the fortress while he stays outside of it. He does what he does because the plot needs him to do it.
Adar then has the Orcs fan out to search only after so many of them have entered the bailey. If he had been smarter about this, maybe he could have prevented the escape we will see later, but he is not particularly smart because the plot requires him not to be. In any case, only now, ONLY NOW does Waldreg decide to ask Adar what happened to Sauron. That would be one of the first questions to ask, and he obviously would have tried asking either before the march got underway or around the time they paused for Adar to do his thing with the seeds. But he waits to ask him now because the writers wanted to save this until now for the pretend benefit of the audience. I say “pretend benefit” because before Adar can say anything, an Orc interrupts.
We see here again the carving with the sword of evil, a carving which will prove to be more important than a reasonable viewer might anticipate later on. But you would think that Arondir might want to cover this back up. What if it turned out to be exactly what Adar needs in this place that you are just conceding to him? Unfortunately, Arondir is only as smart as the script wants him to be.
We then see that Arondir has stayed behind alone to spring a trap on the Orc army. He jumps out of his hiding spot before he actually springs his trap, but it does not matter because even when Adar commands the Orcs to bring Arondir down, not a single one draws a bow and arrow, even though they have them. Instead, Arondir is able to get a couple shots off before he executes what might be the most mind-numbing action bit in the show thus far (even counting Galadriel’s sword fighting sequence last episode).
How does Arondir spring his trap? He shoots a fire arrow to burn a rope (in a segment that looked incredibly fake like the computer-animated mess it was) that looses the tower in this fortress of all its supports, causing it to collapse. By implication, that rope was the only thing holding this massive tower up. It might as well have been held together by rubber bands and duct tape. It is incredible how structurally unsound this tower is, and yet it stood for so long when a stiff breeze could have made it collapse. I guess this shows why the refugees did not want to engage in battle here, since one errant arrow could have hit that rope and caused the tower to collapse on top of them. Even the way this tower collapses is lucky for the plot. It does not fall one way or another, but more or less straight down, so that only a portion of it lands in the bailey and the rest falls down the cliff to take out the rest of the Orc army. We will see later that a significant amount of Orcs survived this, since I guess Adar and Waldreg shared their plot armor.
I am forced to conclude that this was poor Elven architecture unlike any we ever see anywhere else because there is no way those villagers weakened this tower sufficiently in the course of one night. Besides, if the villagers managed to do that, you would think they would also try to collapse the bridge. As has been established, the only way in and out is to cross the bridge (and possibly the bridge below it, but it is unclear where that is supposed to go). Thus, if they had rigged up something to take out the bridge (which would not have taken nearly as long as what would be needed to weaken a tower), they would solve their problems or at least give them more than enough time to flee somewhere else from an army that supposedly cannot move in daylight.
But that is not all there is to Arondir’s grand plan. To make sure the Orcs cannot escape from Ostirith, he kicks a rock with his super-powered Level 5 Elf Kick ability, a rock that is supposed to be a heavy rock attached to a chain which is attached to a board that will be pulled in just the right way to close the doors behind him and keep them closed. The odds of this happening this way are infinitesimal, so we can only conclude that Arondir was relying on luck. For that piece of wood to be pulled horizontally rather than vertically from its standing position (where it even has to slide into place) that chain would need to be in the exact center, you would need to hope that the force of the pulling does not move the chain at all, and that the fact that you have it leaned back has zero effect on its positioning. Otherwise, the overwhelming chance is that the wood falls longways and is just dragged out the open door. But by the absolutely-not-contrived direction of this scene, everything falls into place just right for Arondir. He is even fortunate enough that the rest of the Orc army was held back far enough down the approach that they would not significantly impede his escape and would be in the right position to be taken out by the falling rocks.
But that amount of sheer luck is dwarfed by what we see next. The refugees who did not defect are all here right next to the village…. HOW??? Every time we have seen this tower, we have seen that there is only one approach to it, only one way in or out. But all of these refugees were able to get as far as the army of Orcs in a shorter amount of time while remaining completely undetected. I guess because enough of these people have been to this village already that they can use their Elder Scrolls fast travel mechanic to skip all that pesky traveling that would have obviously led to them being detected and wiped out. But by the powers of contrived writing, they are all safe, at least for now. Bronwyn then tells all these people to make ready the village for defense. We will return to this absurdity later.
Númenor and Their Contrivedly Spacious and Speedy Ships
For now, we must check on Númenor with all of their THREE ships making their way to Middle-earth. We get no indication of how much time has passed in their voyage, though they are within sight of Middle-earth now. As I said before, these writers have great difficulty with basic aspects of time and space. In this case, the whole Númenor adventure needs to be squeezed into a timeline that already does not make sense. Speaking of squeezing in, somehow these ships are supposed to hold at least 100 men apiece along with horses for all of them and the necessary supplies, though we never see 100 men on a ship, and we only see maybe ten horses in one stable. At least, I am assuming that we only have the 300, since they could not create extra space for accommodations for their 200 shipless comrades. If they did, the lack of accounting for space gets even more absurd. And remember that they not only need supplies for their time in Middle-earth, but also for the trip there, which should not be short (but these writers seem to pretend that it is).
We also get an … odd scene here with Isildur and his horse, Berek. Isildur has grabbed an apple that he bites from and shares with Berek. Nothing unusual so far. But then he eats from the apple after Berek has tasted of it. Isildur then goes on deck and takes another bite of the apple before … throwing the other half or so of it into the sea. Why? Why waste a perfectly good apple? If you were going by land, I might understand throwing the core of the apple away, but why in the sea? This is not really a significant point, but it is a minor illustration of how the writers have trouble with basic comprehension of human behavior as they do with the basics of conversation.
Galadriel and Isildur then have a conversation where she asks him who he is and what he does. Of course, this whole scene would have been pointless if they followed through with the better idea for Isildur working his way into the army. But as it stands, there are some notable bits of dialogue here. One, when Galadriel finds out that Isildur is a stable sweep, she says, “Despise not the labor which humbles the heart. Humility has saved entire kingdoms the proud have all but led to ruin.” Sure, that line sounds like something a hero should say, so I guess the writers need to throw in one or two of those for the main protagonist. But it does not work coming from Amazon Galadriel because we have seen nothing to show that she knows anything about humility. She is arguably the least humble character in the entire show. It also does not work as a historical principle derived from the history of Middle-earth to this point. She must resort to a vague proverb and not give any specific example because she can give no specific example of when humility saved a kingdom in Middle-earth after the proud almost destroyed it. All the Elven kingdoms fell to Morgoth in the First Age. This is yet another one of those lines that just sounds good on paper (whether to the writers or just in general), but the writers did not take the time to think through its significance or even give an example.
Two, when Galadriel asks Isildur why he joined the expedition, since he says it was not to be humbled, he claims, “I was just trying to get away.” There you have it; the writers are not communicating what Isildur’s character even is and what his motivations are. They changed it last episode to wanting to do something great for Númenor, and now he says he wanted to get away from Númenor altogether. How is the audience supposed to get invested in a character that the writers cannot consistently characterize even at the basic level of motivations? And if he wanted to get away, why didn’t he just go west like he originally wanted to do? It’s only because the writers had no plans for any story in western Númenor and no plans to feature Anárion in the first season.
Three, Isildur says of Númenor that it is, “not the real Númenor, if such a place ever existed.” Of course, we do not have a real sense of what that means, since Isildur has not been explicitly identified as one of the Faithful, we never saw this “real” Númenor, and beyond vague intimations of connections with the Elves it is unclear what the better version of Númenor was like. Also, it is now time for your weekly reminder that we are six episodes into the show and four episodes into the Númenor arc, and the writers have still not told the audience about the central conflict of the Númenóreans. We have been told nothing about their extended lifespan. We have been told nothing about why they have such antipathy to the Elves, even if it is apparently as flimsy as wet tissue paper for most of the population. I am not giving these writers the benefit of the doubt that they will bring all of this up later, but it is irrelevant anyway. That information, as crucial as it is to understanding the Númenóreans, should have been put front and center and not delayed for the sake of unfathomably less interesting filler.
Four, Galadriel says that Isildur has the look of his father. The beginning of this scene was supposed to demonstrate how much better her Elf eyes are than Isildur’s (since she could already see the land when he couldn’t), but this line undermines that point. By no stretch does Isildur look like Elendil. In fact, Isildur even says he was always told he looks more like his mother. Well yeah, he would need to.
But Galadriel does not just have an exchange with Isildur. She also has an odd talk with his dad. Galadriel is usually the one who does not understand how conversation works, but here it is Elendil who does not understand this form of interaction between people. Galadriel asks him what happened to Isildur’s mother (she could have just said Elendil’s wife, but whatever), and Elendil’s response goes as follows: “It is strange. Most of my life, I’ve looked east to see the sun rise over the sea. And west to see it set over the land. We’re sailing into the dawn, and yet, to me, it feels like the coming of night. She drowned.” The writers could not pick a lane for Elendil’s character to take. Either he could have been obviously signaling he didn’t want to talk about it, or he could have said this bit before she asked the question and then he could have responded to her directly. Instead, they have to drive right down that line separating the lanes. And as for how his wife apparently died (Tolkien never says, so this is not a matter of accuracy), are we to believe that Elendil’s belief in the mantra that “the sea is always right” is so strong that he was able to say this unflinchingly a few episodes ago? Or is the sea not always right? Or is that mantra something vacuous and disposable that was a mistake to leave in the script? I’ll let you decide.
And in case you thought this show’s trouble with maps was over, boy do I have a surprise for you. You see they are still sticking with where they are going in the Southlands against where they established the village was in episode 1, but that is no longer surprising. The writers have committed to being inconsistent. But now we are told by Elendil that the journey there will take one day by boat and one day by horse. Interestingly, they must go against the current when they go upriver, but I guess they never technically said that the river is always right, did they? But the notion that this trip will take one day by boat is laughable. In LOTR, the trip Aragorn and his army took from Pelargir to the landings of Harlond near Minas Tirith was a distance of 42 leagues (126 miles), and that fleet made the journey in the course of roughly a day only because they had many men to be able to row against the current and an unusually strong and favorable (as well as providential) wind that pushed them faster than they expected to go (V/9). But now Elendil is talking about covering around double that distance in a day as if it is normal and without the need to factor in anything. We should also not take for granted that they can make the journey in one day by horse, as it seems more likely to take more than two, since they have to cross that land between the river and the Ephel Dúath and then some amount of miles thereafter (we are talking at least 100). For reference, the ride of the Rohirrim from Dunharrow to Minas Tirith, which appears to have been around 300 miles, took five days, they knew exactly where they intended to go and had obvious reason for urgency, so this was no casual ride.
Nearly the Most Indefensible Village Imaginable
We then go back to the Southlands, as we are not checking in on the other plotlines this episode. Arondir uses a small hammer for a bit on the sword of evil before the hammerhead breaks off. This causes Arondir to say that it is beyond their skill to destroy. When we had the similar moment and line in Jackson’s FOTR, it was not a conclusion Elrond drew from the fact that Gimli failed to destroy the One Ring. He already knew that, and Gimli’s axe strike just helped drive the point home. Here, we have seen Arondir try only this one thing and then just give up. Maybe he did try other things, but we do not see any evidence of that. Instead, he says that he must hide it and not tell anyone, even Bronwyn, where he is putting it. But maybe he should have told someone, since maybe they would have spoken up and told him what a bad idea this hiding spot was. We will certainly get to that and all the silliness concerning this sword of evil later.
But enough of that, we must attend to the preparations the villagers are making for defense here. Some things they are doing are just wasting time, such as trying with those tiny shovels to fill in the massive hole with dirt (I could not tell right off if this is the same hole they later covered with boards and rocks instead). They also mount multiple Orc heads on spikes for some reason. Where did they get these Orc heads? Don’t know. Neither of them is the one Bronwyn decapitated and we know the Orcs actually take care of their dead.
Then Arondir gives a speech that goes over much better than Bronwyn’s last attempt, but it is actually more ridiculous. To begin with, he says that their position gives them the advantage. How? Seriously, they abandoned a perfectly good fort that is only approachable by a narrow pathway, which the villagers went to in the first place to have a better chance of defense, to now go back to the village and claim all along that this was a perfectly defensible position. There are a handful of buildings, no walls, and no actual bottlenecks to catch invaders in. There is a narrow bridge, but that crosses over a creek that is so shallow and narrow that there is no reason invaders could not just cross over outside of the bridge. Otherwise, they could come in through the forest (as most of the Orcs will do later) or from the hill where they are completely exposed. This might just be one of the least defensible villages I have seen in any media. Of course, this setting also helps to highlight how pitiful the scale is for this most highly budgeted show that is supposed to serve as a predecessor to LOTR. But except for that Orc force that was mostly taken out by silly script shenanigans already, no force involved in this “big” battle story has more than a few hundred involved, and these villagers are an even smaller force than that.
As the key to their strategy, Arondir says that they must wait until every last Orc crosses that bridge to spring their attack. This strategy of his is built on a number of assumptions. One, he assumes that the Orcs will come in and not spread out enough to avoid any of them getting caught in the trap. Two, he assumes that the Orc force is going to be small enough to be caught in the trap, rather than having to deal with significant overflow. Three, he assumes that the Orcs will only cross the bridge, not the creek, and that they will not come in from any other direction. For the initial feint, he happens to be right because the plot requires it, but he is decidedly wrong for the rest of the group that Adar makes adopt a different strategy, but we will talk more about that later.
He even says at this point that he has seen smaller armies defeat greater foes. One, I do not believe you. Two, even if you could point to concrete examples, you would likely be talking about the greatest warriors of Men and Elves in the First Age (possibly Túrin and Beleg), who you just so happened to be in the right place to see. These villagers are not warriors of that caliber. Nor do they have the advantage of a position that is well fortified and easy to defend.
They even decide to make their “keep” the tavern. You know, it’s that centrally located building with the wooden doors and a thatched roof. It’s that building that an enemy with brains could just set on fire. Of course, it is not as if they have great options here, despite what Arondir said, and they clearly would have been much better off in the fortress.
After this, we get an exchange between Theo and Bronwyn, as Theo is being told to defend the tavern, where they keep the wounded and the children (this does not fit with what we see later, but the implication of the line is that no one but Theo is watching the children). That is certainly odd because no one here should be wounded yet, and this village is placing their only healer on the frontlines because this script must insist that she participate in this way, regardless of her better skill as a healer. But more significant in this exchange is when Theo asks Bronwyn to say to him what she used to say when he was little and had nightmares. What she recites is as follows: “In the end, this shadow is but a small and passing thing. There is light and high beauty forever beyond its reach. Find the light and the shadow will not find you.”
Alright, we need to break this down three separate ways. First, this is an appropriation of a line from Tolkien. The writers do this because they have a bad sense of when they ought to stick closer to the source material, and they simply try to make up for it by reappropriating lines for no apparent reason (like in episode 2 with Halbrand saying something Galadriel will say in FOTR). This is something that no one said, but Sam thought when he saw a star above the thick clouds of Mordor:
There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the Tower had been defiance rather than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his master’s, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the bramble and laid himself by Frodo’s side, and putting away all fear he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep. (VI/2)
This is one of my favorite parts of what Tolkien wrote in LOTR, and one can imagine a young Tolkien thinking something similar as he looked up in the sky at night in the breaks between the unimaginable carnage of the Battle of the Somme that he was part of. It is a thought that recontextualizes everything for Sam and gives him more confidence to push through the last leg of the Quest. Sauron is absolutely a great threat, but this one sight reminded Sam that there were things that transcended even his grasp at his most powerful. He cannot have it all his own way, and Sam is participating in something that will ensure that he will never have his own way with the world again. In this case, though, the highlighted bit is then ripped from this context and made to be much less significant. Even when the writers are directly pulling from Tolkien, they manage to mess it up. They could have made this connection more organically, but it had to be forced in where it is not particularly appropriate.
Second, one aspect that illustrates its inappropriateness is the fact that the context for this refrain is Theo having nightmares. Such a line is rather overshooting the target. What does the light and high beauty being beyond the shadow’s reach have to do with nightmares? That would make it seem like she was talking about much bigger things than Theo was concerned with, rather than addressing his fears head on. It would have been much more appropriate if there was a scene, perhaps on this particular night, when Arondir or Bronwyn could point to a light in the sky on cloudy night and say something about how that light may be covered, but it is forever beyond the shadow’s reach. That would be a more organic similarity, and not something said to address nightmares.
Third, another aspect that illustrates its inappropriateness is the continuation we get. Just like with Halbrand’s earlier referenced line and other cases where something is taken directly from Tolkien, the writers combine it with something that is so obviously not Tolkien. The statement, “Find the light and the shadow will not find you,” fits neither the nightmare comforting context nor with the line taken from Tolkien, especially since the light in question had nothing to do with not being found. And besides, the shadow obviously does find these people in this episode, so this whole saying is made to seem empty by its ending (made up by the writers) being undermined.
Theo then bids his mother farewell, even though he does not need to go to the tavern now and there is still significant daylight left (although it is overcast and the Orcs should obviously be moving by now). But the script is just making him go away so that Arondir can have a scene with his mom. We learn in this scene that Arondir has a rope necklace on which he keeps the alfrin seeds that Bronwyn gave him in episode 1. Of course, you cannot find a hint of him wearing this at any point prior to this episode. He does not have it when he leaves the tower, presumably to say goodbye to her near the end of episode 1, which explains why he does not have it when he goes off on his adventure. But we also do not see it in episode 5 after he has come back to the fortress and somehow gotten his armor back. Nor do we see a hint of it in his opening action bit. But he has it now … somehow. Why? Presumably, it is because the writers could not think of an easier way to set up this scene.
Arondir then explains the tradition that we saw Adar observing earlier. This is not from Tolkien, but it is one of those few cases of where the writers have made a harmless and sensible addition. What is not fitting here is why, when Bronwyn states her understanding of the ritual she says, “New life in defiance of death.” These are the exact words Adar said in Quenya (apropos of nothing) earlier. This is one of those marks of contrived writing: contrived connections. There is no reason these two characters should be saying the exact same words. She does not even give a new spin on it or say the same notion in different wording. She says the exact thing the very first time she hears of the tradition. What is the point of the resemblance here and why did the writers not put any thought into the fact that they were making it apropos of nothing?
Arondir then says, “It is believed that one of the Valar watches over growing things and those who tend them.” This is a reference to Yavanna, the same Vala who was chiefly responsible (along with Nienna) for the Two Trees, the likes of which she could never make again after Morgoth and Ungoliant drained and poisoned them. I suppose that they cannot directly reference Yavanna because she is never mentioned by name in LOTR or its Appendices (unlike Aulë, who has been referenced multiple times in this series). She certainly does watch over growing things, but the idea that she watches over those who tend them, as if to protect them, does not come from Tolkien. This addition does not mean much, but I am just not sure why it was made.
This dialogue and its continuation in Arondir saying how he wants to plant a new garden with her and Theo leads to this couple finally kissing six episodes in. I have still seen nothing that gives me a sense of chemistry between these two or what the basis of attraction is. At least, unlike the Kili and Tauriel from Jackson’s Hobbit movies, there is a hint of history between them already. The problem is that we get no insight into that history or, like I said before, how Arondir got past the mental block of having seen this woman grow up, since he has been there longer than she has been alive.
A Battle in the Dark; Too Bad We Can Still See It
After this, we cut to the time of battle that night. A suspiciously small force of Orcs walks into the village by … walking double-file across the bridge into town. There is no reason for them to do so, except convenience of the plot. They can easily cross the little creek, or they could approach from a more effective direction. Or they could try approaching from multiple directions at once if there was any strategy involved here. (There technically is a strategy, but we will get to that silliness later.)
The idea for the trap that the defenders are going to spring is to wait silently for all the Orcs to pass over the bridge before pinning them between two burning carts (which are filled with wood and coated with pitch, acting as if it is gasoline) and then attacking. Thus, the idea is to remain still until the right time or, if action must be taken, to do so as stealthily as feasible. But there is a threat to derail their plans when one Orc breaks off from the pack to go inspect the area around the first wagon, where Bronwyn and a nameless woman (who I am sure will have a long, fruitful life ahead of her) are hiding. Naturally, Bronwyn needs to neutralize this threat. What should she do? A) Have her friend help her in sneaking behind the Orc, cover his mouth, and kill him as quickly and quietly as the two of them can manage? B) Otherwise surprise the Orc and try to neutralize him as quickly and quietly as possible by going for a vital area? C) Scream loudly before attacking by stabbing the Orc in the foot, causing him to cry out in pain? If you chose C), you probably helped write this show, along with the four other writers. With a semi-competent enemy, this tactic would have ruined the defenders’ plans and the Orcs would spread out too much for it to work. But Bronwyn is protected by her plot armor, as the Orc kills her friend who had no weapon, and she has time to kill the Orc, pick up a torch, light the wagon, and push it so that it slowly rolls downhill to cutoff the Orcs’ escape. And all the Orcs stayed in the right position for this to work rather than acting in any way that made sense in the situation.
This convenience is then multiplied when the Orcs at the other end of this group stay in place for the other burning wagon to slowly roll down into place. There is even an Orc that conveniently does not move out of the way of the wagon in order to be run over by it. This trap conveniently catches all the Orcs in this group between the two wagons of burning wood. But this trap isn’t all that effective, as all they needed to break it was one Orc kicking away one piece of wood to open up a large gap for everyone else to run through.
Oddly enough, we see some Orcs carrying a small battering ram. Why did we not see any Orcs with a bigger battering ram for the gate at Ostirith? The writers don’t care. Why do these Orcs have this battering ram? To breach the tavern. Why do they want to breach the tavern? Don’t know. These Orcs don’t know that there is anyone in there or that the tavern is important at all. And it would have obviously been much more strategically sound to attack this building with all this wood and the thatched roof by burning it with those many, many torches the Orcs have had in this episode. But if the Orcs did not have plot-convenient stupidity, all the villagers would surely be dead.
Even though the battering ram makes no sense here, you would think they would hold off on using that until they have dealt with the archers on the rooftops that are taking out their force. But conveniently, the archers temporarily pause shooting their arrows until the Orcs get close enough to the tavern for the rest of the villagers to come out and fight them at close range with whatever weapons they have at hand. Why did the archers stop shooting? Don’t know. It can’t be that they didn’t want to hit the infantry, because the archers continue shooting after everyone is in the thick of fighting.
Arondir vs. Big Boy
Somehow, some Orcs manage to sneak up on Arondir and his fellow archer, leading to the nameless character getting killed (of course) and Arondir being pulled down from the roof he is on. We see him overcome an Orc with brute force, although Amazon Galadriel said to never do that. But then he backs up into a challenge he cannot defeat by brute force. That is, he backs up into a Big Boy Orc—coincidentally, the only Big Boy Orc we ever see in all of Adar’s forces—who (somehow) managed to sneak up on Arondir, even though Arondir was looking in his direction only a few seconds ago.
Now we need to talk about this ridiculous fight. Even when everything else has been stripped away and we are left to focus on this one fight, the showrunners still cannot do it right. First, the Big Boy Orc somehow has no weapon on him. If he had a weapon, Arondir would surely be dead. But the plot requires him to survive this fight, so the Big Boy Orc has no weapon and must try to kill Arondir with his bare hands.
Second, Arondir does these pointless flourishes and telegraphs all of his moves. It is as if whoever directed this does not understand combat and just wants things that look fancy. But it is not as if we have not seen plenty of pointless weapon twirling in this show as well, right? In this particular fight, apropos of nothing, the stuff Arondir is doing is made to look almost like capoeira. Look, I get it. I too have played as Eddy Gordo in the Tekken series. But it does not fit here.
Third, the Big Boy Orc incapacitates Arondir at one point by punching him square in the face. It was not an especially fast punch and Arondir did not even try to block it. In fact, the Big Boy Orc could only have telegraphed this move more if he literally sent Arondir a telegraph saying, “I’m going to punch you in the face with my right hand.”
Fourth, Arondir finds a hand-sized splinter that he uses as a weapon against Big Boy. But even this does not ultimately work, despite stabbing Big Boy in the eye, as Big Boy pins him on a well and eventually takes the splinter out, with his eye still attached, causing a flow of blood out of his eye that gets all over Arondir’s face and in his mouth. Arondir has this strange thing with black goo where he tries to get too much of it on him. We saw that in episode 1 with the tar coming out of the cow’s udder and now we see it here when he just refuses to close his mouth while this Orc is pouring forth blood from his eye onto Arondir’s teeth and into his mouth. This whole struggle lasts an uncomfortably long fifty seconds or so. It is not ratcheting up the tension by dragging it out this long. It is just off-putting with all this blood pouring from his eye and splashing on Arondir. Who signed off on this idea? They need to take some time off from writing or directing action again if anyone is expected to watch it.
Fifth, since Big Boy has Arondir pinned and Arondir cannot outsmart or outmaneuver him in any way, the writers obviously set this up for an out-of-nowhere save from Bronwyn stabbing Big Boy in the back. There were a lot of these in Jackson’s Hobbit movies and I will be mentioning them in the reviews I will post of those, and it is no more excusable here. But this is the last helpful thing Bronwyn will do in this fight. If this scene was not contrived for this purpose, she would have been the least helpful person in the defense (since she almost ruined it to begin with). Fortunately for them, exactly zero other Orcs got involved in this whole affair. There is not a single one around to help. Keep that in mind when we see what happens shortly.
Everything Falls Apart … Again
Soon after this, the battle is apparently over. A bunch of villagers with no combat experience and not having a position that is easily defensible bested a pathetically small Orc force. What, then, is the actual threat the Orcs pose? Are they only a threat when there are thousands of them? Of course, we find out that not all of this force consisted of Orcs, as some of the Men who joined Arondir were pressed into service. They were made to dress as Orcs, though. Why? I would think it would have a greater psychological effect if these Men went in without the costumes, at which point at least some of the defenders would pause at the thought of killing someone they knew, and that pause would cost them. And we never see any other Men that are part of Adar’s forces, except for the plot-armored Waldreg. This revelation (which they repeat in multiple ways, over and over again) also does not make sense of the fact that they were apparently not smarter than the other Orcs. Surely they could have not gone through the arbitrary bottleneck or said something about other ways to get into the village. But whatever, the writers wanted their reveal. How they got there was not important to them.
Only now, at this dramatically convenient time, right after a dying Orc threatens the defenders, do the other Orcs who have been watching from a distance begin shooting the defenders. Why did they wait this out? Because the writers had a certain set of plot points they wanted to hit and could not fathom dropping any of those ideas. If Adar cares at all about his Orcs, he could have attacked the village all at once from multiple directions, thereby overwhelming the defenses, and easily winning a battle that his forces should easily win. But no, he had to wait until absolutely every single individual in the initial feint died before he had the rest of his forces spring into action.
Once the Orcs start shooting, we hear the instruction to fall back to “the keep,” and because they do not expect the audience to remember, the writers also have the line rephrased to say, “the tavern.” In the process, Bronwyn clearly reacts like she was hit with two arrows, one (apparently) in her leg and one in her shoulder. But I guess the director fell asleep between scenes or did not realize until later that the script only called for one arrow to be removed, and so despite Bronwyn being directed to act like she was shot twice, we only ever see the arrow in her shoulder.
When all the survivors make it into the tavern, Bronwyn is set on a table for treatment. She tells Theo to help Tredwill—the named old man whose only characteristic is being an old man—but it is to no avail. This little bit was supposed to show what a good, unselfish person Bronywn is, as well as her understanding of triage, but the gesture is shown to be empty when the second Theo turns around, we see that Tredwill is already dead. He died rather quickly according to the demands of dramatic convenience, as he was alive on the table only a few seconds ago and has clearly not died from blood loss. How would she not have noticed? Don’t know. The writers just wanted this part here.
Then we get the silly sequence where Arondir (primarily) and Theo have to try to heal Bronwyn of her arrow through the shoulder. This could have been an opportunity for the episode to show us how battle-hardened Arondir is so that he knows just what to do in this situation. But he does so much wrong. Once he breaks off the arrowhead, he does this needlessly dangerous move where he rips the arrow out of the wound instead of doing it slowly, which leads to her wound becoming a veritable fountain of blood. After all, they did not have a cauterizer for the wound prepared before Arondir took the arrow out, nor do they have any treatment for internal bleeding. What do they use to cauterize the wound? Do they have a fire poker on hand or some metal that they can heat in the fire in this tavern? Apparently not, because they grab a burning log. There might be worse cauterizers than burning wood, but I am having trouble of thinking of a worse one in this situation. It is not effective at cauterizing, in part because of how it conducts heat (which everyone knows metal is a better conductor of) and how you cannot apply it to a wound so directly as you can do with a piece of metal. Also, burning wood can leave ash and fragments in a wound to infect it even worse. But the writers just said, “Nah, it’ll be fine.” Magically, the burning wood works with no ill effects, but there is this goofy death fake-out, where it is obvious that Bronwyn just passed out from the pain, but even Arondir thought she was actually dead, that is, until she suddenly gasps for air a few seconds later. What caused that? Don’t know. This show is not designed for you to think about.
Now you remember how I have said at multiple points, even in the review of this episode, how the writers struggle with basic concepts of time and space? Well, that certainly has not changed by the time we get to the action climax. But now the writers need to implicate the editor into sharing their ineptitude. This whole battle and sequence in the tavern has taken place at night when it is pitch dark out. But when we cut to a shot of the Númenóreans—who show that literally all of them are cavalry complete with horses with 3D-printed armor—riding to the destination they do not know, it is clearly early morning. You would think this meant that we were cutting to a shot from the previous day or earlier in the day. Or maybe this is a shot from what is obviously hours later in the day. But no. We will see later that they are meant to be practically simultaneous and that the Númenóreans are not far away now. This is the quality of writing and editing you get on the most expensive show ever made, everybody.
Adar: The Biggest Beneficiary of Plot Convenience?
When we come back to the tavern, the Orcs have breached the door and they neutralize the villagers inside. Adar strolls in and tells Arondir, in Quenya, to give him what he is looking for. Why is Adar speaking to Arondir in Quenya when Arondir would obviously speak Sindarin as an Elf who did not grow up among the High Elves or go to the Undying Lands? Don’t know. The writers don’t care about such details. You know what else they don’t care about? The reason why Adar ever sent Arondir back to the villagers with all of his weapons. If he had just done something else to get the message to the refugees, they would be without their tactical leader and best warrior by far. No one else would have had the skill and plot armor to pull off the prank at the tower that led to most of his army being killed. He would have wiped out his opposition easily and gotten what he wanted.
As Adar starts having villagers killed until Arondir tells him what he wants to know, even threatening to kill Bronwyn next, we get yet another in a series—which is even finished yet—of asinine decisions that are required to move the plot along. Earlier, Arondir hid the sword of evil and said that no one should know where he takes it. Yet somehow, Theo knows where it is so that he can give in to Adar’s demands. How did he know? We will never know. But what is even worse is where Arondir decided to hide it. He hid it under the floor in the tavern. You know, that fallback position that allowed the defenders no means of defending themselves? That place where Theo would be? Why in the world did he hide it in there? He might as well have just dropped it down one of the wells in town, as that would have taken longer to retrieve. Sure, that would have been a more visible act by Arondir, but it would somehow manage to be less moronic than this hiding place. Much better would have been to pick a random spot among the many trees nearby and dig a hole there. Arondir could have even gone a significant distance in and turned multiple ways to make sure he was not followed and no one could figure it out just by seeing where he entered the forest. That would have bought significant time if everything came down to Arondir ultimately agreeing to give up the sword rather than lose Bronwyn. But because Arondir is afflicted with plot-convenient brain damage, Adar is given the sword of evil and the rest of the plot is allowed to happen. I mean that. The rest of the plot for this episode and the major events that happen hereafter hinges on Theo’s plot-convenient knowledge and Arondir’s terrible decision. Adar would not have gotten the sword otherwise and the ending would not have happened.
After Adar gets what he wants, even though we can clearly see here that outside it is pitch dark, when we cut to the next shot outside, it is clearly early morning again, and now the cavalry is so close that we can see the rumbling in the water. Adar says he has a special task for Waldreg, which we will see him carry out near the end of the episode. In order for him to carry it out, he will need to go completely undetected and in order for Adar’s plan to work, he will need to rely on his enemies being complete buffoons and not realize their mistakes until this senior citizen is far enough away that they could not catch him. But we will get to that.
The Battles Resumes and Ends
First, we need to talk about the second part of this battle that is even more mind-numbing than the first part. Somehow—we are never told or shown how, since we never see any scouting done in this campaign—the Númenóreans know exactly where to go. The last bit of intel they had was that they needed to go to Ostirith, but they never go there. They come straight to the village. What will become Mordor is a rather large area, boasting a square mileage larger than Montana and probably even larger than California. They have a rough idea based on old intel of what region of the Southlands the Orcs could be in, but despite the vastness of the area and no clear signals (we do not even see the fires from earlier in the night), they know to go exactly here at exactly this time. No need to check anywhere else in the vicinity. I guess the Force must have told Galadriel (even though she is no longer at the front of the charge, unlike in the earlier scene).
When the Númenórean cavalry rolls into town, for some reason all these horsemen take the bridge two-by-two, as if the horses could not manage that creek that is even shallower and narrower than the joke bridge scene from Robin Hood: Men in Tights. But they are only in this two-column formation to set up the goofy shot from the trailers of the two guys in the front going different ways in a fork with a chain between them. Conveniently, this is a magical extending chain that assembles extra links out of nothing to become long enough to take down more and more Orcs. It also has the magical property of being able to take down so many Orcs without requiring any anchor to handle the resistance and without producing any force in the other direction against the riders. The chain is not anchored to anything, and the men are simply holding it in their hands, but thanks to the chain’s magical properties, they suffer no reaction force from running into more and more Orcs. (Also, note that it is clearly daylight and we can see the sunshine at multiple points, but the Orcs are able to fight in it without worrying about their skin literally burning.)
Then we see Galadriel in battle for the first time in this series and it is as painful to watch as I expected. The showrunners are trying desperately to make Galadriel look cool in her stunts, instead of just showing her as incredibly calculating and efficient, how she has no wasted motion, or anything like that. Rather, they do this goofy shot where she dodges an arrow and then rides for a few paces upside down and on the side of the horse just long enough until she passes an Orc and magically causes his head to fly off from his shoulders. Why do I say “magically”? One, the way she is swinging her sword, she is obviously not making the lateral cut for this decapitation that the visuals are showing. Two, she is clearly too far away for her sword to be doing what it does here. Three, to further accentuate the fakeness of what we are watching (rather than trying to mask it), the sword in her hand actually temporarily disappears. The most expensive series ever made, everybody.
We also need to check in on the Númenóreans she “trained.” Valandil decides to give up his tactical advantage on horseback by diving onto a bunch of Orcs. He then proceeds to overpower them by relying on brute force, even swinging as wildly as he did in his “training.” He suffers no ill consequences for it, so I guess Galadriel’s “teaching” is useless even by this show’s standards. Speaking of useless, we also see Ontamo in this scene being attacked by an Orc who is doing nothing but swinging down on him repeatedly and Ontamo has no idea what to do. Honestly, they might as well have left him behind. That will only be confirmed later when he says he has had enough of war for a lifetime in this pathetically small-scale battle (more like a skirmish) after having done almost nothing in it.
For some reason, they hold a small group of soldiers back with the queen. This is maybe the one saving grace of this battle: they did not force a scene in which the queen gets involved in the fighting. But as bad as that would have been, one must wonder why she came at all. I though that maybe they were holding this force in reserve to send after any Orcs escaping, but we learn later that they are putting together another group for that purpose (thereby giving the Orcs a massive head start for no reason). Thus, I am really not sure why they are here. It is even more confusing when we see that Isildur, for some reason, is back here and when Míriel says, “Go,” Isildur—and only Isildur—takes off to join the battle. Any questions you have about “why” will not be answered. Strategy clearly does not matter.
But we cannot have this look like an entirely one-sided fight apart from the useless Ontamo, so one character will need to be endangered. It is obviously not going to be Galadriel. Arondir has already had his time being on the wrong end of the fight. The queen is away from the fight. Halbrand can’t be made to show weakness either. And Isildur is just making his way into the fight. Therefore, that leaves Elendil to draw the short straw, even though his book version is supposed to be a great soldier, a king who could engage Sauron in combat alongside Gil-galad (as is said in the book, as opposed to Jackson’s FOTR). But here, the plot requires him to be helpless. But not too helpless, since if any of the four Orcs who swarmed him had weapons or remembered how to use what they had, Elendil would surely be dead. But just like with Arondir, Elendil gets a save out of nowhere, this time courtesy of Halbrand.
When we see Adar again, we realize that he sure waited a long time to flee. It is as if he waited around in order to be spotted going off on a horse he did not bring with him (yet the horse has no objection bearing him). But no, that would be preposterous. He surely must have a good reason for waiting around so long. In fact, the writers have determined it is so good that our mortal ears cannot handle it.
But one thing the writers do want us to know is that Arondir knows Galadriel and that she is amazing … apparently. Just like that awkward bit at the end of the last episode, after Arondir tells Galadriel that Adar must not be allowed to escape, there is a pointless bit where Arondir and Theo stare in awe at her as she rides away while Arondir says who she is (we have been told that she is the commander of the northern armies at multiple points, but the first time she commands an army, it is of Númenóreans, not Elves, and she never gets any Elves to help this expedition). And they are staring in awe of her even before another desperate “Isn’t she cool” moment when she goes through too much effort to dodge a spear. But as we established last episode, Galadriel likes showing off, rather than doing what makes sense. It is also unclear why they are supposed to be in awe of her, as the scenes in Númenor implied that she is indistinguishable from humans as long as people can’t see her ears. As far as Theo is concerned, she is just a woman in armor on a horse. Also, Halbrand, despite not knowing where Galadriel and the person she is pursuing are going takes off after them, for some reason.
A Most Absurd Chase
In terms of horseback chases, this is no The Mask of Zorro. The music blares with this choir to try to give this scene a veneer of excitement and “epicness,” but it does not fit. During the chase, Galadriel gives her horse the command noro lim (Sindarin, meaning “run swift”), the same words said by Arwen in Jackson’s FOTR, which originally came from Glorfindel in the book equivalent of that scene. This allows her to close the gap with Adar, but I was wondering why Adar did not think to do the same with his horse.
But what makes this particular scene stultifying is the fact that Halbrand SOMEHOW got so far out in front of what was supposedly a high-speed horse chase that he was able to double back and attack Adar from the front. I see we are at Last Jedi levels of awareness of speed and distance traveled that somehow allow for impossible pursuits. Halbrand is here because the plot requires it, so that he can be in the right position to trip Adar’s horse with his spear, not by sticking the spear in the ground, or even attacking the horse, but just holding his spear out sideways and hoping that the horse does not knock it out his grip, that the fact that he has no leverage will not matter, and that Adar does not just turn left and avoid this setup altogether (since Adar is looking right at him and heading straight for him). Of course, the director cares enough to make sure the audience knows that the horse was not hurt. We had to sit through watching a lot of people die, but the director wants to make absolutely sure that you know the horse Adar was riding will be okay.
As Adar goes to grab the package that he was carrying off, Halbrand stabs him in the hand with the spear and threatens to end his life. Galadriel tries to stop him from doing this by saying, in this order, “We need him alive. I need him alive.” No matter what, Galadriel’s needs are always most important. But this scene cannot end without her saying a couple more goofy things. One, when Adar is obviously provoking Halbrand to kill him, Galadriel tells him at one point “Eat your tongue.” Not great phrasing, Galadriel, considering people can die from “eating” (i.e., swallowing) their tongue after biting it off. There’s nothing wrong with the phrase “bite your tongue,” as it is obviously less severe and has a familiar meaning. Two, she repeats a line from last episode: “One cannot satisfy thirst by drinking sea water.” In its original context, that line was part of her lying denial that she is motivated by vengeance. This time, she is of course trying to dissuade him from enacting vengeance, because only her vengeance needs to be satisfied, no matter the cost.
For some indiscernible reason, the Númenóreans captured a few Orcs. For what purpose? We are never told. Maybe Galadriel commanded them to take some prisoners so that she would have some to torture and kill to get information out of Adar if it came to that. Unfortunately, I am not actually joking about her motives. But it is unclear if that is why the Númenóreans took them prisoner. It just seems like something that begs for explanation, since we, the audience, have not seen Orcs taken prisoner before. (As others have noted, the idea that this scene is set after the battle is laughable, as everything looks remarkably clean for a town hundreds came riding through and in which many died in battle. It is almost as if they filmed this scene before the battle scene.)
The Rogue Cop Gets Her Interrogation
After the brief interlude with the Númenóreans where nothing of significance is said or happens (especially in light of how the episode ends), we are in a barn where Galadriel goes back into her rogue cop mode as she interrogates Adar. And this scene … may not be the worst scene in this series, but it is close to that level. First, we learn from Galadriel that Adar is a “Moriondor,” one of the “sons of the dark.” The term is made up for this show, but that is neither here nor there. This group are said to be the Elves that became the first Orcs. This is confusing, since Adar is just an Elf with some scarring and some black blood. In appearance, he is even less distinguishable from them than Galadriel is from the people of Númenor. It would make more sense if he was not one of the first Orcs, but one of the first progenitors of Orcs. At the same time, it is not as if such distinctions really matter to Galadriel; she will treat him with the same contempt.
In fact, it is not as if Adar makes such distinctions. The one distinction he will make is that he and his fellow Orcs prefer to be called “Uruk.” What an odd thing to say. Why is that the preferred term? Because “Uruk” is the Black Speech equivalent of “Orc.” Why should we care? Who knows? But at least this character has more depth than Galadriel, as well as better control of his emotions, despite being the villain of this season. In making him speak up on behalf of Orcs to make them seem sympathetic, he is actually written more sympathetically than Amazon Galadriel ever has been in this show, even though in the last two episodes he has tried to kill or force allegiance on everyone in the Southlands.
Instead, she continues her streak of unlikability and will later even find new depths of awfulness to plumb. When she interrogates Adar as to Sauron’s whereabouts, she exploits his affection for the Orcs by threatening to torture and potentially kill them by bringing them into the sunlight. And it is at this point that I want to ask a question for reflection: What has Galadriel done to get us behind her as a hero? I have reviewed her every action in the course of this series, and I can find nothing. It is like the writers wanted to write an anti-hero—completely apropos of nothing as far as Tolkien’s Galadriel is concerned—but they forgot to make her heroic, admirable, likable, or have any quality worthy of emulation. This scene is supposed to be her almost falling to the darkness before being pulled back. That is the idea behind the scene, as we will see later. The problem is, this Amazon Galadriel is no different from anything else we have seen from this character.
Adar’s reply about Sauron should be quoted in full:
After Morgoth’s defeat, the one you call Sauron devoted himself to healing Middle-earth, bringing its ruined lands together in perfect order. He sought to craft a power not of the flesh but over flesh. A power of the Unseen World. He bid as many as he could to follow him far north. But try as he might, something was missing. A shadow of dark knowledge that kept itself hidden, even from him. No matter how much blood he spilt in its pursuit. Mmm. For my part I sacrificed enough of my children for his aspirations. I split him open. I killed Sauron.
The idea of Sauron wanting to heal Middle-earth is laughable, but the motive of wanting to bring order does fit the character, as that desire for order is part of what drove his will to power, his aim of domination. Much of the rest of the description is clearly connecting two things: his aim of crafting the power that will become the One Ring and his experiments that we saw the remains of in that fortress in the Forodwaith. Based on Arondir’s description last episode, this is essentially what the sword of evil was for, to be a sort of Ring prototype. Did Sauron forget about it, then? Even though it was apparently his idea to establish a realm in the Southlands and that there would be at least one of these swords in that area? I guess Sauron just kind of forgot, just like the writers.
On that point, we have this confusing confirmation that Sauron called all who would follow him to go to the far north. I have already talked about the problems with this whole idea in my episode 1 review, so I will not be repeating them here. But a new wrinkle here is what the point of the fortress in the Forodwaith even was. We have been told that the mark that pointed to the Southlands was Sauron’s mark. And it was one that he came up with well before Morgoth was defeated. And yet with this literal map of where he wants to gather the Orcs established, the first place he goes is … the opposite end of Middle-earth in the Forodwaith. Why? Don’t know. If the showrunners ever tell the audience, it will be well after they should have done so if they wanted to help them make sense of this otherwise nonsensical action. Thus far, we have been given no reason why his experiments needed to happen in the far north and not in the Southlands.
By the way, this is a reminder that we are six episodes into the first season of a show called The Rings of Power, and there has yet to be a single hint of the Rings of Power. I initially thought Celebrimbor was making his forge to make the rings and that this would cause an inconsistency with Tolkien’s work. But that is not the case. His forge has nothing to do with rings. As it stands, the things the show is named after have yet to be set up through the whole first season to this point. They could have spent at least some of this time setting up why each race might want the Rings and what lies Sauron could use to manipulate those desires to try to establish his dominance over them. They could have introduced us to people who will bear the Rings. Technically, we do not know if any Men we have seen will be one of the Nine, we have been shown Durin III only for brief moments, and we have been introduced to corrupted versions of Galadriel and Gil-galad, who will bear two of the Three (until Gil-galad gives his Ring to Elrond). Conspicuous by his absence is the last bearer of the Three, Círdan the Shipwright, who has not even been mentioned indirectly so far (he would eventually give his Ring to Gandalf in the Third Age). At the same time, maybe it is for the best that the likes of Círdan and Celeborn have not appeared in this show. These writers cannot be trusted with them after what they have done to established Tolkien characters thus far.
As for Adar’s claim that he killed Sauron, this is an obvious lie. It is so obvious that even Amazon Galadriel does not buy it. Why does he lie though? What purpose does it serve to lie in this fashion? Is he also trying to provoke her into killing him like he tried with Halbrand? It seems like he could find more direct routes there than asserting the dignity of Orcs, even reminding that they all come from the same source as Galadriel: the One, Master of the Secret Fire. The only other way out of this foolishness is if Sauron deceived Adar, but I would still wonder why he would go that route and not just kill Adar to establish dominance.
Oddly enough, Adar is the first character of the show to name God in Middle-earth, not the Galadriel who said her meeting with Halbrand was the work of a greater power that Men lacked the conviction to name. I would have appreciated this reference more if the context made better sense of it and it was not the villain who is the first to mention him. But it is odd that he, despite never going to Valinor, would know of the One as the Master of the Secret Fire (otherwise known as the Flame Imperishable, but they could not use that name without deviating from LOTR, where there is reference to the “secret fire” that Gandalf is a servant of). Surely Morgoth would not have told him about the One, since Morgoth would not allow his servants to think that there was any being higher than him. How, then, did he learn? It would have made for an even less sympathetic character (who can never be that sympathetic because of his obviously murderous and otherwise immoral actions), but something that would have actually been interesting is if we heard from such a character a different origin story. That is, he could have given us what Morgoth taught him about the origins of things. He doesn’t even need to still believe it, as Morgoth did not have loving servants, and thus Adar would not necessarily have conviction about anything Morgoth said, believing it to be a lie even without knowing the truth of the matter. It would have been something. But do not underestimate these writers’ ability to make nothing out of something.
This remark is then followed by Galadriel’s threat:
No. Your kind was a mistake. Made in mockery. And even if it takes me all of this Age, I vow to eradicate every last one of you. But you shall be kept alive, so that one day, before I drive my dagger into your poisoned heart, I will whisper in your piked ear that all your offspring are dead and the scourge of your kind ends with you.
This is this show’s hero, ladies and gentlemen. She was neither what we needed, nor what we deserved, nor what we wanted. And she was certainly not written this way by the man whose work and name recognition is the foundation this series’ whole existence rests upon. But this is where we are now: Amazon Galadriel threatening to kill every Orc and keeping Adar alive just so she can kill him last. Notice that she is not doing this to make Middle-earth safe, or for any other good motive, but because of her contempt for Adar and the desire to torture him in the process of killing every Orc. When Adar says, “It would seem I am not the only Elf alive that has been transformed by darkness,” I am quite sure he means “the writers” in place of “darkness.” It is as if they wrote this character this badly just to give validity to the villain’s characterization of her in this line: “Perhaps your search for Morgoth’s successor should have ended in your own mirror.” This is not Adar being especially insightful, it is just a testament to how poorly written Amazon Galadriel is and how they massacred Tolkien’s character, sewed her back together, then reanimated her Frankenstein style into this abomination of a character whose resemblances to Tolkien’s work are only superficial.
To top it off, you remember the last line she said, literally less than twenty seconds ago? Literally her next line is this: “Perhaps I shall begin by killing you, you slavering Orc.” I guess there is a tempest in her because her brain is being tossed about like a ship caught in a tempest. That must be why she cannot remember what she said less than twenty seconds prior and instead says the exact opposite of her promise to save Adar for last. It is not that this is unbelievable for Amazon Galadriel, but this whole part of the dialogue is a contrived setup for Halbrand to come in and prevent her from killing him, probably because he knew he couldn’t trust her. She needed to stop him from killing him for reasons that make sense given the motivations involved. He needed to stop her from killing him for reasons that do not make sense. They simply could not find a smoother way to transition into the emetic scene that follows.
But before we get to that scene, we must make note of something because it will be important later. They have retrieved the package that Adar was running off with. In this whole scene, Galadriel never once opened the wrapping and she never once asked Adar about it. What was the point of bringing it into the same barn, then? But as a matter of fact, we know why she never opened the wrapping. If she had, the contrived writing whereby we get our ending might not have been possible. It is meant primarily as a decoy for the audience because these writers cannot make sense of their own story.
An Emetic Romance?
Now on to the emetic scene where Galadriel and Halbrand have some alone time. Why do I think it is vomit-inducing? Initially, this reaction was caused by her hypocrisy in telling Halbrand, “Whatever it was he did to you. Whatever it was you did. Be free of it.” She has a lot of nerve to be talking to anyone like that when she is clearly not free of what fuels her vengeance. But she cannot go an episode without acting like she is better than those around her, so here we are. But then the emetic quality is kicked into overdrive with the hints of romance between these two in the following dialogue:
“I never believed I could be until today. Fighting at your side, I felt if I could just hold onto that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I …
“I felt it, too.”
*Awkward pause as pseudo-romantic tension builds*
They are then interrupted from what was clearly supposed to be a moment between them as Halbrand is called back to the village. Apparently these two feel closer to each other only when they are killing a bunch of people. That is supposedly the key to Halbrand’s redemption, or so this scene would present it. But of course, the idea that they would even tease such a romance when Galadriel in the Second Age is obviously supposed to be married to Celeborn makes this even worse. There is no respect, no respect at all. And while I’m still not convinced Halbrand is Sauron, if the writers do pull that twist that many are expecting, they will have spat upon the last piece of benefit of the doubt I am giving them. And this scene will be the cover image for the absurdity of that idea.
[Update after the season finale: Rather than retract this claim that I was wrong about, since Halbrand is Sauron, I want it to be on record that I was wrong. I want it to be on record that I gave these writers the slightest benefit of the doubt about this major mystery of theirs and I was wrong. I want it to be on record that these writers cannot be trusted, even when given this slightest benefit of the doubt. This is one major reason why I will not be returning for season 2.]
A Most Inappropriate Party and the Revelation of More Brain Damage
Back at Tir-Harad, everyone is having a party, but how? Where did all this food and drink come from? It is such a small village, and yet they could apparently accommodate a party with hundreds of people participating (at least, that is the implication, since the show cannot handle the scale of actually showing us that many people at this party). More importantly, why is this celebration happening now? I would think this is incredibly inappropriate on the same day as the battle. Some of the bodies of the villagers who died may not even be cold yet. Have they all been buried? Has there been any ritual to commemorate them? Has there been any acknowledgment of the losses and the sacrifices? You can’t wait about twenty-four hours before you even try to celebrate? Make no mistake, we know it is the same day, not least because the ending would not require more than a day’s journey to Ostirith. None of these villagers even show any remorse about the fact that they killed people they knew and that so many had to die in the process of the defense. No one is shaken, no one needs comfort about anything that happened. The only bit of that we even see later on is for Theo, and it does not have to do with the battle. It has to do with the fact that he regards the sword of evil as his precious. (Also, despite the filler scene earlier, the Númenóreans are suddenly unconcerned about the remaining uncaptured Orcs.)
During this inappropriate celebration, there are a few odd things that happen. First, Míriel tries to compliment Bronwyn on how her people are alive because of her. This compliment makes absolutely no sense because Arondir had much more to do with it. If anything, Bronwyn came closest to ruining everything, but she was protected by plot convenience. Of course, this is a compliment reflected back from Míriel when Bronwyn tries to thank her, even though Míriel participated less in the fighting than Bronwyn did (which is to say, she did nothing in the battle). If anything, Míriel should have said to thank Galadriel, since it was Galadriel’s incessant demands that drove them to this place. But they wanted an interaction between one woman leader who has her position apropos of nothing (if the Númenóreans were thinking straight, they would not put the daughter of the king they deposed on the throne) and another woman leader who has her position apropos of nothing. Actually, Bronwyn says that she did not want to take up the burden of leadership just so Míriel can say that is the mark of a true leader, but Bronwyn literally did take to the burden upon herself. She did it in episode 2 when she insisted everybody leave Tir-Harad, and she did it again in episode 4, even when Waldreg questioned who made her leader and Bronwyn just insists that he and everyone else did (whether they actually wanted to or not). That doesn’t sound like someone who wanted to avoid the burden.
Second, Míriel introduces Bronwyn to Halbrand and for some unknown reason her eyes are drawn to his waist. That is where he is keeping his pendant. Why did that happen? It would make sense if she immediately noticed it and it was around his neck. But this is just a contrivance the showrunners needed to lead to the rest of the scene. What is even stranger is that the rest of the Southlanders in the crowd also take notice, even those who have no angle from which they can see the pendant (and yes, they are reacting before she even says anything). Bronwyn asks if he is the king they “were promised.” Halbrand says he is, and everyone just accepts it.
There are a few problems with this whole bit that need to be explored more. One, where did this promise come from? Don’t know. It hasn’t been mentioned and probably never will be. Two, Adar implied in a previous scene that these villagers were the last obstacles to the Orcs closing their fist around the Southlands. Would that not imply that all of these villagers are the last Southlanders, or at least the last free ones? What use is it to be a new king or to have a new king in this situation? Three, all these villagers needed was a pendant and a man’s say-so. He could be anyone, but they are just taking his word for it. Remember Aragorn, the person the writers are obviously trying to mimic with this character’s story? He had multiple factors to appeal to. He could establish his lineage all the way back to Isildur. He bore Narsil reforged as Andúril. He was able to summon the Army of the Dead. He showed the hands of the healer in line with a proverb that had been preserved in Minas Tirith. He wore the Ring of Barahir, another heirloom of his house. He was clearly on firmer ground than what Halbrand can offer.
The third odd bit of this scene is what happens with the package. Galadriel hands it off to Arondir for no apparent reason. She did not ask him about it. She did not open it to see what it is. She simply passed it off. When Arondir goes to talk with Theo and Theo is acting like he has given up the Ring, Arondir tells him to give the sword of evil to the Númenóreans so that they can throw it in the sea. Why does he (presumably) give him the sword to give to the Númenóreans? Don’t know. It doesn’t seem to make sense to give an addict the thing that has power over him. It just sounds like you are increasing the risk that he will run off with it or somehow hide it (I imagine he would find a better spot than Arondir did). Unfortunately, all of that will prove irrelevant.
Theo becomes the first person since Adar to unwrap the cloth to reveal that what is actually contained in it is a hatchet. SOMEHOW no one noticed the difference in shape until now. I am not sure if Galadriel ever even asked what the thing was offscreen, but it is so bizarre that she never inspected it, otherwise she would surely ask, “why does he care about this hatchet?” Adar’s plan relied upon her not being inquisitive, and conveniently she was not. His plan also relied on Halbrand not being inquisitive and everyone else among the Númenóreans not being inquisitive. Conveniently for him, they were not. There is no excuse for Arondir, though, since he wrapped that thing up, and he obviously should know the difference in feel between a sword hilt and a hatchet. Adar’s plan relied upon him suffering plot-convenient brain damage, and conveniently his brain is damaged in just the right way. Only Theo unwraps it, and by then it is too late. Everything about Adar’s plan with this decoy fell exactly right for Waldreg to lumber his old self up the path to Ostirith to be able to use it.
The Most Important Ending This Season Is Also the Worst One
Now … what happened in this ending is a lot to take in. It is the worst ending in the series, even managing to surpass the absurdity of Galadriel practically trying to commit drawn-out suicide by jumping overboard at the last second to try to swim all the way back to Middle-earth. The sheer absurdity of what happens is enough to make it the worst, but then you add on the consideration that this ending was supposed to be a big payoff for things that have been set up, as well as the denouement of a grand plan, and it becomes even worse. Like most other things in this show, the more you think about it, the worse it becomes. There is another scene that I could discuss featuring Isildur and Elendil about how Berek has formed an unbreakable bond with Isildur now that they have gone into battle together (implying in this conversation that he would have formed that bond with someone else and forgotten Isildur if Isildur didn’t come along, or that there was not some incredibly strong bond between them already), but there is really no point in dissecting that scene further in the face of everything this ending throws at the audience. Let’s go through this step-by-step.
One, let’s review what information we have been told about the purpose of this sword. Arondir said in the last episode, “It is a key. Conjured by some forgotten craft of the enemy, to enslave your ancestors.” He does not know what exactly the key is for, but based on things he heard from Adar (including something he did not hear onscreen), he says, “The enemy commander spoke of becoming a god. Of giving Orcs a home in these lands.” He also says—and Adar acts as if—Adar needs this sword of evil to enact his plan. What does the sword actually do? It is a key for a keyhole in the ground of Ostirith that opens a spillway in the dam for the lake behind it. Does it have any other major function? We may never know now. How would this spillway enslave the Southlanders’ ancestors or the Southlanders now? We may never know, since it only has the effect it has thanks to the Orcs digging tunnels and trenches. But even this effect does not clearly “enslave” the Southlanders. How does opening this spillway contribute to Adar becoming a god, whether figuratively or literally? It does not, especially since it would have effectively done nothing if not for the tunnels and trenches he had the Orcs dig. Realistically, what happens will have killed Adar. How does opening the spillway contribute to giving Orcs a home in these lands? At best, it is because what happens will block out the sun, but only because of the tunnels and trenches the Orcs dug, and only by (realistically) killing any Orcs near the vicinity of this unlocking activity. What, then, would have been its purpose without all the extra miles and miles of digging? The sword of evil would have opened a spillway. Wow. You can definitely tell this payoff was written by people inspired by Lost. What was the point of giving the sword of evil qualities like the One Ring—in terms of its indestructibility and apparent power over people—as if it was a prototype Ring? I guess we will never know an in-universe explanation, since all it does is open a spillway.
Two, as I said, in function, the sword-key of evil is not primarily a sword; it is a key. In that sense, it is like the Tibetan ritual dagger from Uncharted 2 or a demented version of a Keyblade from the Kingdom Hearts series. Why, then, does it take the shape of a sword? If it is meant to be in the Southlands, why does it bear that mark of Sauron that is supposed to function as a map symbol of the Southlands? What is the point of the symbol in this context? And given how quickly the sword apparently retracts (based on what we saw in episode 4), how close to the vicinity of the keyhole does it need to be to exercise its primary function? Imagine that Waldreg stabbed his arm at the bottom of that hill, just in case he needed to defend himself. Would he then need to stab himself again when he got up to his destination? And is this something only Southlanders can do with the sword-key of evil, or could anyone use the sword-key, provided that they give blood? It seems as if an Orc could have done this, and would have been able to, since the Númenóreans allowed some number of Orcs to escape and get a massive head start on them. Eh, I imagine I am putting more thought into this literal key to the plot than the writers have.
Three, all of this raises questions about the purpose of the Elven watchtower and what the Elves have even been doing there the past 1,000 years or so. They must have known for a long time that the carving and the keyhole were there. They were not always covered by vines, as Arondir remembered seeing it during his seventy-nine years there. Even if we assume that the Elves gave up the search for this sword-key of evil, despite it being in the village with only a few buildings that they can see from the watchtower itself this whole time, why would they do nothing about the carving and the keyhole? They could have destroyed the carving to remove the clue, or they could have filled in or otherwise ruined the keyhole, just to make sure that what it was for could never be discovered. But I guess no one had that thought in the last 1,000 or so years? More importantly, what is this watchtower even for? Why does it have this keyhole in it? Did the Elves build the fortress to protect the keyhole? Why do that and not inform the soldiers of the purpose? And why not build an even stronger defense with a larger garrison? If the Elves built it, why did they make the carving? Was the fortress already there and the Elves took it over? What would have been the function of the keyhole and its sword-key in that time before the Elves without all the tunnels and trenches? Eh, I imagine I am putting more thought into this whole issue than the writers have.
Four, earlier in this episode, we saw the tower collapse as part of Arondir’s trap. For what must have been a lot of rubble, I guess the Orcs cleaned up nicely once they excavated themselves, that is, whenever they would have done so without burning their skin with exposure to sunlight. Did they specifically clear the area for the keyhole? Or did Waldreg do that himself? Did he have to work much at it? Or was the layer of rubble only just thick enough to slow down the Orc army and also just thin enough to be easily removed? Also, why did Arondir not do anything to try to fill up the keyhole, since it is in the ground? Surely there are things he and the villagers could have put in there, like dirt, rocks, maybe bits of metal (particularly if you can manage getting melted metal). These are the sorts of things that cannot be easily extracted because of the narrow and deep opening. And Arondir knows he cannot let the enemy access it. Why, then, did he opt to do nothing for what should have been a matter of high priority? But this is hardly the first time in this episode that Arondir’s carelessness serves as a plot device. When you think about it, he bears a major load of the responsibility for how and why Mordor even came to be, according to this show.
Five, I want to reiterate that this key is for a spillway. It is not for a great pit. It is not for a door of some sealed entrance that held back some horrible thing from getting out. It is for a spillway for water, a body of water that would have accomplished nothing if not for the tunnels and trenches. Why would a key like this be necessary for that? This did not need to be sealed with a key; it could have just been opened by a lever. Why make the sword-key so that it only extends like it is being reformed after one end of the sword draws blood if this is its purpose? We will probably never know because it has served its purpose as a plot device.
Six, I also want to reiterate that the key is only for opening the spillway. If the Orcs had not dug the tunnels and trenches to guide the water to a specific place, all the key would have accomplished is letting out a lot of water. It is not enough water to drown the plain. The spillway and the water it released would not have accomplished any nefarious purpose. Why was this sword-key made only for this specific purpose and not for something more useful or final? It can only start a process and it is left to others to guide it to a more significant purpose. Did Sauron really make a sword-key of such importance and indestructibility for such a simple purpose of such inefficient design that it could have only worked through contrived writing constructing miles and miles of tunnels and trenches? Why would he do that? Why would he not devise some more competent design?
Seven, for some reason, this water released by the spillway has such force to it that it is able to collapse the bridge beneath the spillway just by the amount of water being let loose. Then we get shots of it exploding holes in the village for no apparent reason (in fact, when it shown flowing in the ground beneath Adar later, we see it going fast but not explosively fast). Then as it is flowing down a trench, we see random spots open in the bank that let more water in apropos of nothing. Where did that water come from? Don’t know. The writers don’t care. In addition to these unusual properties of the water, it is also moving at incredible speeds. Unless we are supposed to imagine that all of these settings we see were right next to each other (making the Elves’ oversight that much more embarrassing), this water must be moving at practically unprecedented speeds to get from Ostirith to the hole beneath the mountain. For reference, while a tsunami can travel at more than half the speed of sound over the deeps of the ocean, when it approaches land, it slows to around 20–30 mph (~32–48 kph; which is multiple times faster than how fast water travels from high volume releases of a dam). This water makes it from its origin to its destination in around two minutes of screentime (though it is probably even shorter, as we have the brief scene with Isildur and Elendil and yet no one notices the massive gush of water from near Ostirith, which is easily visible from the village). That means everything we see in what is supposed to be the vast area of the Southlands is bafflingly close together (if this water is moving at tsunami speeds across land, 30 mph would cross one mile in two minutes). Or it means that this water is traveling at ludicrous speed (if the mountain is ten miles away from Ostirith, at least in terms of the paths the water needs to take through the tunnels and trenches, meaning that it is not a straight line, the water would need to be flowing at 300 mph or ~480 kph). In that case, the water would be moving with such force that it would be causing a lot more problems than it is. Or maybe the writers just didn’t think about all of this. (Even if we are to assume that the event is taking longer than what we are seeing, it would need to be taking much, much longer than what we see, as in hours upon hours, for what we see to even begin making sense.)
Eight, the purpose of all of this water, which it could not achieve without the tunnels and trenches that would be dug much later, is to initiate a volcanic eruption. Yes, you read that right. This supposedly works by the water falling through a hole hundreds of feet above magma (I know it is hundreds of feet because it takes approximately seven seconds for the water to fall from that hole to make contact with the magma), which in the process somehow causes explosions that will then create an explosive eruption. It is like one or more of the writers said, “I remember doing that vinegar and baking soda volcano experiment as a kid. I’m sure the same thing will work with water and magma.” Now to be clear, water’s interaction with magma is one of the factors that can lead to a volcanic eruption (I do not know if it can cause a pyroclastic flow). But in such a case, the magma needs to be in a chamber where it is under significant pressure. This is a chamber in which the magma is hundreds of feet beneath the top of the chamber. But the writers thought less of how to get from point A to point B in this plot than they did of the fact that they need to get from point A to point B.
Nine, the eruption of this mix of water and magma causes a pyroclastic flow, the most dangerous of volcanic hazards, which led to the destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum by Mt. Vesuvius. A 2010 paper determined that people who were 6 miles (~10 km) away from the vent of this volcano would have been killed instantly by the heat blast of at least 250 °C (~480 °F), even at that distance, regardless of what shelter they took (note that pyroclastic flows can get much hotter, even at that distance). When Míriel tells everyone here to take shelter, it is absurd for multiple reasons. 1) There is not enough shelter for everyone. 2) Even the fireballs that are crashing into the village prior to the flow reaching there make shelter in wooden buildings with thatched roofs pointless. 3) This pyroclastic flow will easily destroy those buildings, as we see even in the ending of this episode, where we see two buildings incinerated instantly. There is also a problem with the direction of this scene, as there are a few people doing what no one in their right mind would think: running in the direction of the ash cloud. We do not know how far away the village is from the volcano (and we cannot use estimates from something with as much variable speed as a pyroclastic flow to estimate), but it is clearly not all that far (it takes roughly a minute-and-a-half from the eruption to Galadriel getting engulfed). Even at double the distance of Pompeii (or Herculaneum) to Vesuvius, this is going to be instant death for everyone in the village. But you better believe our main characters are going to be fine next episode because even pyroclastic flows cannot overcome the power of plot armor. (And just in case someone thinks I am not treating this work as “fantasy,” I have two things to say. First, some measure of realism—particularly in terms of consistency, respect of cause-and-effect, and respect for stakes—matters for fantasy to have its effect, as Tolkien himself talked about the importance of the “inner consistency of reality” to the effect of fantasy. Second, in The Silmarillion Galadriel’s cousin Maedhros cast himself into a fiery chasm because he expected it to kill him. And it did. There is no reason why the same should not be expected here.)
Ten, let’s review one more time where everything is supposed to be. I have said before that this show has a consistent inability to reckon with where everything is in the Southlands, as well as the size of the area. You may recall that in the first episode as we were moving eastward in that map transition that the label “The Southlands” first appeared near the eastern edge of the northern mountain range (the Ered Lithui), a mountain range which is around 500 miles long, implying this is where the village is (this is our introduction to the region, so we have no reason to think otherwise). It is unmistakably northeast of the Sea of Núrnen. But then the next time we see the label on the map, it is laid out over all of what will become Gondor and Mordor. Then we see the label in a setting between the sea and the Ephel Dúath mountain chain on the western side, hundreds of miles south. We are also told that every village from Tir-Harad to Orodruin (also in the northern part of this area) has been accounted for with the latest influx of refugees. When Míriel asks Halbrand for information about where the Orcs were headed, even though his information is certainly old, he says, while gesturing to the map, “Further south, I should think. Towards the watchtower of Ostirith.” Where he points on the map is near the western mountain range of the Ephel Dúath and near a river, placing it in the land of Nurn. This places Ostirith closer to the labor camp setting, completely upending what we were shown in the first episode, and it is even more difficult to account for how they could account for refugees from every village between there and Orodruin, especially if said refugees are necessarily crossing land the Orcs have already attacked, since Halbrand says they are pushing south. Based on the last map location we see from Míriel’s map, the locations they are aiming for are just north of that range of mountains in the middle of what will become Mordor, south of the Morgul Vale, and around 100 miles south of Orodruin/Mount Doom. Of course, when we saw the label of the Southlands over the area of the labor camp, that was south of those mountains, but the waterflow we see in this episode implies that they are closer even than that label implied. Where that lake that is dammed is supposed to be relative to everything else in the area is anyone’s guess (and you cannot guess it from looking at one of Tolkien’s maps). But somehow, this ending is supposed to involve locations on either side of that mountain range at an indeterminable distance apart, and that is after this show has moved things around from where they are supposed to be in the first episode. And the scale of distance involved, even by the show’s revision of geography from the first episode is still impossible to account for. Remember that the Orcs tunneled beneath Hordern, a village that is a day’s journey form Tir-Harad. Why were they tunneling there, unless it was part of the path they needed to reach the mountain? Otherwise, they would be ruining their tunnel work by diverting the water away from where they need it to go. That is many more miles to account for (maybe ~20, but possibly a little less), and then we have whatever distance that is from the labor camp and the distance from that to the mountain. No matter which way you slice it, the geography of the Southlands is impossible to reconcile reasonably if we take everything from the show into account, and it is impossible to still make sense of everything even if we disregard the impression we would have of where we are in the Southlands for first couple of episodes and go with the writers’ revised geography. This is what the most expensive show gets you, everyone: people who don’t comprehend maps.
Eleven, many are calling this mountain Mount Doom (or Orodruin), but it makes no geographical sense for that to be the case. As I said above, according to the last map we saw in this very episode, our setting is around 100 miles south of what will become Mount Doom. If it is just right there, it would also make no sense of the line where Bronwyn says they have accounted for every village between Ostirith and Orodruin. The only village we see between Ostirith and that mountain is Tir-Harad. Hordern is off in another direction. And we never see any other villages at all, which would make sense if they are further away, but not if that mountain is supposed to be Orodruin. But it appears that the writers have made another massive geographical error, since this would otherwise be a completely separate big volcano that erupted before Mount Doom. And I am being led to think this is Mount Doom by the show itself because the Orcs chant the title of the episode “Udûn” while all of this is happening. There are only two things “Udûn” refers to in Tolkien’s work. Most famously, it is another name for Utumno, Melkor/Morgoth’s original fortress, hence Gandalf referring to the Balrog as “flame of Udûn.” But most often, it refers to the valley in Mordor behind the Black Gate. The southernmost point of that valley is a further ~45 miles northwest of Mount Doom and its furthest point (at the Black Gate) is another ~35 miles northwest of Mount Doom. If this is supposed to be the creation of Udûn—which would make zero sense but which the writers may be implying by the fact that they are titling the episode in this fashion and having the Orcs chant as they do—then their geographical failure is complete. In such a case, they would have moved our original location in the Southlands from the eastern end of a roughly 500-mile mountain range all the way to the western end, all while telling us in the last few episodes that we were much further south anyway.
And with the pyroclastic flow engulfing Galadriel after she stares blandly at it, this episode ends at around 64 minutes and 30 seconds before the credits roll. This is not the ending of the season, but if I needed any further convincing that this show is not going to get better long-term, the fact that they cannot even do action well and the fact that they cannot sensibly pay off what they have set up for so many episodes (and such long episodes) give me all the convincing I need. There is nothing to look forward to, no reason to expect the show will get good. In fact, if they do the twist so many are expecting (but I am not convinced of, as yet), the writers will only manage to make the show even worse.
I’ve been rewatching the first season before I brave the new episodes. I’ve been loving these guides -thank you for them! There’s one fun inconsistency that I think you may have missed: when Galadriel is interrogating Adar, his hand does not appear to be bandaged, despite the fact that in an earlier scene, Halbrand stabbed it with a spear. Just zero attention to continuity, it’s truly incredible. What a horrid mess.