I’ve already heard some complaints that Peter Jackson’s
The Return of the King makes no sense as a movie. The nicest thing I can say about this is that these people have forgotten one of the things—the most obvious thing—that
The Lord of the Rings has done to change moviemaking: it is one movie.
The Return of the King is not supposed to make sense as a movie. It’s more like the final episode of a miniseries. And as the world reels from the
The Lord of the Rings’s success, with movies like
The Matrix and
Kill Bill following in its simultaneously-filmed tracks, most of us can see that
The Return of the King does make sense. It makes more sense than most anything anyone’s seen before. What’s more, it’s good.
THE BEGINNING
Once again, Jackson has wisely foregone vain repetitions. Time is too valuable to waste retelling the events of the previous parts. So if you aren’t very familiar with the story of
The Lord of the Rings, do yourself a favor and watch
The Fellowship of the Ring and
The Two Towers again before heading out to this one. You’ve only yourself to blame if you can’t pick up where they left off.
What Jackson does begin with is perfect for setting the tone and foreshadowing the end. He reaches back five hundred years before the beginning of
Fellowship, to a scene where two hobbits sit fishing in a river. One notices something shiny in the riverbed and picks it up: a simple gold ring. A trinket. But the other, Smeagol, wants it, and when rebuffed, murders him for it. So began his transformation into Gollum, a creature wrought by the ring.
This leads nicely into the continuance of Frodo, Sam and Gollum’s journey to Mordor to destroy the ring, by a secret path Gollum has promised. Meanwhile, the rest of the fellowship has been reunited as Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli meet Pippin and Merry at Isengard. Gandalf commits Saruman to Treebeard’s keeping, and the companions are able to enjoy a respite as the Rohirrim celebrate their victory.
But the shadow in the east ever grows, and the enemy will soon move against Gondor. Our friends must find their way there, hopefully bringing Rohan’s hosts with them. Yet when it seems they need him most, Aragorn decides he must follow a different path to claim the throne of Gondor.
What the aforementioned critics lose sight of is that this is not a beginning. It is a post-intermission transition. And it works wonderfully. No time is wasted, the three separate story strands are neatly condensed to two, and the direction events will head in both those plot lines is established. Not a beat is missed.
THE CHARACTERS
Where to begin? Perhaps in the same spot Jackson does. We’re treated to see more of Andy Serkis himself as he plays
Smeagol in the openings scenes (though he and Deagol seem more stupid than they should have). But it’s as
Gollum that he again amazes. His expressiveness is even superior to what we saw in
Towers. His smirking, cowering, whining, and hating are tangible in a way no other artificial character has approached. Serkis and the WETA team have together made Gollum a milestone in filmmaking.
As with so many of the principles, Elijah Wood’s performance as
Frodo pinnacles in
Return of the King. His boyish, angelic face is perfect, as it makes the corruption that comes over him starker. His illness and weariness are distressing, and the influence of the ring disturbs. Finally, his harrowed countenance through the final scenes makes us yearn for his release. Wood accomplishes all this pathos without ever losing credibility. He does the character honor—the beloved everyman who takes up an impossible task with courage and conviction, who we love the more because we know he is failing.
Sean Astin’s
Sam also comes into his own. He at last acquires depths beyond the dogged loyalty that has marked him thus far. Astin makes Sam’s adoration for Frodo powerful. In a cynical age, I think we overlook the accomplishment this is. His indomitable courage and plain-speaking endear him, and as Frodo becomes something whose experience is too remote to identify with, Sam becomes our protagonist. And it is Sam, his simple values and earnestness, his stalwart service and hard work, who we best love. Sam, who returns to the mundane life that is the only happiness there is, who we most wish to be.
Rounding out the hobbits, Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan finally get to show some acting chops as
Pippin and Merry. Their transformation from pranksters to innocents caught up in the terrors of war is one of the great themes of
The Return of the King. Their separation keys this change, and as first Merry joins the hosts of the Rohirrim, then Pippin the ranks of the Gondorians, we see in them the reality of battle for those of us that know we’re not heroes. The seriousness given these characters allayed a slight doubt that had been nagging at me. But Pippin and Merry prove themselves more than comic relief.
John Rhys-Davies, however, remains comic relief as
Gimli. Much as Orlando Bloom remains affected eye-candy as
Legolas. Neither achieves more depth than they’ve previously enjoyed. Though fewer of Gimli’s lines fell flat for me in this movie. And while several of Legolas’s stunts again struck me as overly indulgent, in the context of this movie they seemed somehow less significantly glaring.
My estimation of Ian McKellen has not changed. There is no other actor whose face communicates so well.
Gandalf’s every expression is worthy of a close-up. As he tells a despairing Pippin of the afterlife we ourselves believe him and are braced for death. In contention with Denethor we feel Gandalf’s indignancy before he smacks the crazed steward. In council with Aragorn his smile gives us warm confidence. And in battle McKellen’s energy is that of a berserker.
Yet though Gandalf does not decrease, center stage is this time taken by
Aragorn. In the titular role, Viggo Mortensen, as does the character he plays, comes into his own. As at last he moves to claim his throne, Mortensen injects his characteristic ferocity into the role. But there is now also a calculated boldness. Where once he hid from the shadows of his ancestors’ past now he strides into the Paths of the Dead like a man whose confidence is charged by rightness. He faces his ghosts without doubt and bends them to his will. This war marks the end of the Third Age, and the beginning of the Fourth, the age of men. Aragorn is the man that personifies this transition, and as he truly becomes the king it is he, not Gandalf, who leads the armies of the west against Mordor. Still, Mortensen retains subtlety. The hint of self-effacing hesitation as he accepts the crown, the honor he does the hobbits, his happiness in Arwen’s arms. Mortensen landed this role almost by chance. But I can’t imagine anyone else carrying it off so well. I would trust any role to him.
Liv Tyler’s
Arwen remains gauzy. Though I do have to say she’s more or less convinced me and I’m satisfied with her. In honesty, there isn’t much character to work with. Yet in touching scenes with her father and when she reunites with Aragorn she is perfect, down to the joyous laugh she makes in Aragorn’s arms. But her most poignant scene should be credited not to her, but to the boy who plays her and Aragorn’s son in a vision sequence. An inspired addition, this scene gives the Arwen character more substance than involving her in the primary action would have. And the motive it provides her is so much greater than romantic love alone.
The far more important female character (though it took some people a long time to realize it) is
Eowyn. Miranda Otto’s performance is one of the film’s best. With Merry she commiserates, being left behind as the men go to war. Her courage is unquestionable as she joins their ranks in disguise. But her fear when the reality of battle dawns on her is as humanizing as her broken heart when Aragorn rejects her and goes (seemingly) to his death. At last, when she stands protectively over the body of her fallen king and faces the Witch-King we feel for her something we never feel for the ‘invincibles’ like Gimli and Legolas: we root for her with an urgency born of believing she can die. As the lord of the Nazgul crushes her shield and arm with his mace we despair. Eowyn’s is a noble spirit, and Otto renders it exquisitely. I only hope her and Faramir receive more attention in the extended DVD.
It was Bernard Hill who most impressed me in my first viewing of
Return of the King.
Theoden would very much like to think the war is over for Rohan, and resents Gondor not aiding in Rohan’s fight against Saruman. Yet when Gondor’s beacons are lit there is a silent moment of hesitation and then the decision to ride to their aid. In that moment Hill says much. Perfectly cast, his Theoden is the Anglo-Saxon epitome, like something from the "Battle of Malden" come to life. As the Rohirrim form up to charge the vast hosts besieging Minas Tirith, he rallies their spirits in what seem impossible circumstances.
I’ve always thought it was a little too easy for the elves. If things get tough for them they can always sail west. And they know if they lose the Valar will probably save the world anyway. But the men of Middle-Earth enjoy no such faith. Theoden and his Rohirrim have a grimmer courage. The courage to fight when victory is impossible and the only reward is the honor of dying for right. These are fell men, the best allies Gondor could hope for. They sweep through Mordor’s army like a dam breaking, wheel and face death from the giant mumakils undaunted. At the last we see a deeper motivation for Theoden’s bravery. A shame for what he was under Saruman’s power. A desire to redeem himself so that he can hold his head high among his ancestors. That he can do.
As foil to Theoden stands
Denethor, steward of Gondor. We saw John Noble only in the extended version of
Towers, but here he plays an important role as the mad, despairing king who hates his surviving son because of the loss of the firstborn. Noble is exquisite in insanity. His haughtiness is superb and I hope we see more confrontation between him and Gandalf in the extended edition.
In smaller parts, David Wenham is the son Denethor hates,
Faramir. Not quite as strong as Sean Bean’s Boromir, the casting is nevertheless right. His acceptance of his father’s disdain is maddening, his obedience foolish. But we admire him for it. Both Hugo Weaving and Cate Blanchett’s stony faces break into emotion. Elrond as he comes to terms with his daughter’s love for Aragorn and decides to support him, and Galadriel when she smiles with surprising warmth. Twice even. All the Rohirrim are wonderful, and credit must also be given to the men and women behind the orc masks. There truly are no weak performances. For a story sometimes criticized for a lack of characterization, there are a great number of people here that the audience comes to care about.
THE DETAILS
So often a film’s success lies in the details. The fact that this is the third part of one vast film enables a consistency in detail never before achieved in a film series. The special effects are again superb. The computer work amazing, particularly when thousands of troops are being shown. Or with exquisite characters like Gollum and the very impressive Shelob (not to mention Sauron’s eye, which nearly becomes a character in its own right). The New Zealand landscapes are also magnificent. But best are the props. The Witch-King’s mace is a thing of awe. Its weight and cold, crude edges oppressive as you look at it on screen. The armor and dress of the different factions show the intricacy of loving craftsmen. Even the tack on the horses is ornate. The Anglo-Saxon motif of the Rohirrim is authentic, the Gondorian style more Mediterranean or continental, and also beautiful.
Again, Jackson &co deserve credit for learning from earlier mistakes. Several opportunities for Frodo to undergo a transformation similar to Bilbo’s in
Fellowship are passed up in favor of Wood’s own acting talents. And while Legolas is still given some stunts that border on belonging in a comic book, Jackson should be applauded for his overall restraint. This is perhaps best evidenced in the Paths of the Dead sequence. One shudders at what could have been done with the ghosts in the vein of horror films. Instead, the sequence is just what it should be. The ghosts’ interactions with Aragorn are appropriate in tone. Nor has their look been overdone. At one moment they seem bones, at another rotting flesh, at another both simultaneously. They really are the most beautiful (if that’s the word) ghosts I’ve seen in a movie, and thankfully they’re given more character and purpose than just trying to spook the living.
Restraint and improving polish is also seen in the writing. The differences between lines of Jackson, Boyens and Walsh’s invention and those of Tolkien’s are less notable—with the obvious exceptions like Gimli’s wisecracks.
Return of the King posed some special challenges in adaptation. The decision to show the Paths of the Dead (Tolkien doesn’t really) is a good one. But sometimes the passage of time gets confused. Frodo and Sam don’t quite spend enough time languishing on the plains of Mordor. And without the Houses of Healing it seems only a day or two passes after the battle of Pelannor Fields before the allies march on the Morannon. Though the movements of Sauron’s armies this causes does provide a very visual demonstration of how Sauron was kept distracted. There are also times where it seems the writers are having some fun with their audience, playing on the expectations of Tolkienites, such as Gollum’s fall into an abyss after Frodo manages to run away from Shelob. Very nicely done.
The music is mostly reprisals of already established themes. The most notable exceptions being singing by actual characters, like the threnody Miranda Otto sang for Theodred in the extended version of
Towers. Here Viggo Mortensen sings the brief "The Return of the King" unabashedly. And Denethor, after sending Faramir to almost certain death, asks Pippin to sing to him while he nonchalantly eats lunch. Billy Boyd’s "The Steward of Gondor" is a high, haunting song that serves as backdrop for Faramir’s tragic charge. Pippin’s song is the musical highlight of the film.
It’s also a moment of excellent editing, sound, and camera work, as scenes of Faramir’s charge alternate disturbingly with close-ups of Denethor biting sloppily into fruit, juice like blood running from his mouth.
WAR and DEATH
I won’t say there isn’t gratuitous violence. Grotesque describes most of the film’s imagery. But despite its horror-genre leanings,
Return of the King treats death with respect, war with apprehension.
This is perhaps better shown here than in the previous two films. Pippin and Merry lose their innocence as they go from being pranksters in
Fellowship to victims in
Towers to soldiers in
Return of the King. Quick to enlist and fight for what they believe, they are daunted when the reality of war is made clear to them. Pippin stumbles around, dazed as he watches men struck down before him. Merry rides with a disguised Eowyn, two who want to fight with their friends but who are told to stay home. As the Rohirrim prepare their charge the two emanate fear. But conviction and loyalty pulls these characters through. Pippin defends Gandalf’s back, his stupor of fear forgotten in the desperate moment. Eowyn and Merry charge resolutely with the Rohirrim, sacrificing themselves to defend their friends.
War is not glorified here. Warriors with good motives are. And those who are selfish and cowardly, like Denethor, are seen as corrupt, degenerate and insane. Those who fail to fulfill their oaths to their friends, like the men of the mountain, as without honor, in need of redemption. Those who relish killing for cruelty’s sake, like the orcs, as pure evil.
And while the stunts of the movie’s ‘invincibles’ like Gandalf and Legolas and Aragorn, and the numberless orc corpses they leave behind may give rise to criticisms that killing is trivialized, it is more appropriate to consider the orcs as representative of an idea than as individuals. This will only raise more cries from some quarters, accusations about unindividualized red-shirted ensigns. Some may even use the word ‘dehumanize’. Dehumanizing orcs—that’s funny. The point is they’re not human. They’re not people. On an abstract level, keeping in mind that orcs are perversions derived from corrupted elves, just as the Nazgul are corrupted human kings, it is clear that the ‘good guys’ are not fighting ‘bad guys’ so much as they are fighting badness itself. Sauron himself is a disembodied spirit manifesting himself as an evil influence driving others. To say nothing of the films’ primary symbol, the ring. (Consider also the more humanizing treatment extended to the human allies of Mordor—in the vein of Faramir’s musings in the extended version of
Towers about what caused the Haradrim warrior he had just slain to leave his home and fight a stranger’s war.)
Return of the King should also put to rest any feelings that the good guys really are invincible. The fear of Eowyn, Merry and Pippin applies here. As does Gandalf’s looking forward to death. Not to mention the actual deaths of some characters. More importantly, the movie accomplishes something more. The nameless Rohirrim and Gondorians that are falling as they fight by our heroes’ sides become people we actually care about, even if we only see their faces for mere seconds. This is accomplished through the music, through the reactions of the other characters, through the glimpses we were earlier given of their culture, through communicating the nobility of their motives for fighting, through communicating their fear, and even through the grotesqueness of their deaths. I’d add a compliment to Jackson that even though I was sure no one of importance would die that didn’t die in the book there were several times I caught myself wondering whether he’d divert from that plan. This kept the immediacy of danger relentless throughout the movie.
Most importantly, the camera work during the battles is superb. Unlike the fashion of the day, where invincibles hover in the air on wires killing people with stylized flicks of their pinkies (a la
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and
The Matrix), the approach here is real. The camera jumps. It bounces. It swirls and it blurs. The camera is everywhere, just as your eyes would be in such a melee. It can make you dizzy. This not only gives excitement and immediacy to the action, it also gives it bluntness. Authenticity. War is a maelstrom of death, not a collection of incidents in a display case.
JACKSON vs. TOLKIEN
The most prominent divergences from Tolkien, to my mind, are the cutting of Saruman’s end and the scouring of the Shire, and bringing the dead onto the Pelannor Fields.
The scouring of the Shire gives a little more flesh to Merry and Pippin’s personalities, sets up the post-war history of the Shire, and wraps up some loose ends from
Fellowship. Not to mention completing the demise of Saruman and illustrating the effects a war ‘over there’ can have at home. When I first heard it would not be included I was even more disappointed than when I heard Bombadil wouldn’t be in
Fellowship. Now? I couldn’t care less. The loose ends it resolved were never raised in
Fellowship, and I don’t mind if Saruman doesn’t make it to the Shire. What attention the movie gives to the closing action in the Shire does fulfill the most important purpose: it closes the framing device initiated with the idyllic sequences
Fellowship began with. It also restores the hobbits to their homes, reaffirming the rightness of what they fought for.
I am, however, disappointed that the replacement demise filmed for Saruman was cut from the theatrical version of the film. Jackson asserts it flowed poorly with the rest of the film. This may well be true, but if so it suggests to me that Jackson was mistaken not to include it in
Towers. Either way, it was an error. The deleted scene will appear on the extended
Return of the King DVD.
I am not surprised Jackson took the opportunity he did with the Paths of the Dead, stretching the dead’s purpose beyond what Tolkien did. But I am surprised that I didn’t mind it much. What I did miss was the parade of troops marching into Minas Tirith from various districts in the south of Gondor. The muster of Rohan serves a similar purpose, and without its own muster in the movie, Gondor seems little more geographically than Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. Perhaps there’s not room in a three and a half hour movie for a character as small as Imrahil from Dol Amroth. But if Rohan could have its muster, why not Gondor?
I was delighted that the Grey Havens was included. For the characters and thematically, it is essential. And while Jackson did accomplish with it what was necessary for the characters, I do feel it was somewhat lacking thematically. A little more of the elegiac mood so well portrayed for the Rohirrim would have served to good effect. More emphasis on the passing of the old world, on the sad truth that their victory does not preserve their world, but allows for a better new world than would their defeat. I don’t think the sad nostalgia could have been overplayed.
Smaller omissions, such as Ghan-buri-ghan and his shortcut matter little. Though the scenes in the Houses of Healing would have been wonderful for fleshing out Aragorn, Eowyn and Faramir. And I look forward to seeing the Mouth of Sauron in the extended version. Yet overall Jackson has remained remarkably true to Tolkien’s vision. Particularly gratifying is the handling of Arwen, giving her attention as a character, yet keeping the focus on the fraternal love between the male characters. This sort of fidelity to Tolkien’s masterpiece is the most lasting reason why Jackson’s movies work so well.
RECOMMENDATION
There are a multitude of moments in this film that could touch a soul. I’m not sure why, but mine was touched most strongly as the Rohirrim formed ranks and Theoden spoke to them one last time before their charge. It’s the call to right action, extended to mere humans—who answer it with a superhuman will—that stirred me. This is what is demanded of everyone in
The Lord of the Rings: more than they can give. It’s the image of Sam, who, because he cannot carry the ring for Frodo, carries Frodo himself. It’s the grime and pallor of death that covers them as they give their dying efforts to save a world that never noticed them but that they loved. And having answered that call, it’s the reward of a plain life. Of your child running to meet you when you get home. Of the neighbors still thinking poorly of you. Of knowing that simple people can go on with their simple lives, and that you’re one of them.
But also knowing that what once was can never be again. And old friends must be bid farewell. It’s knowing that victory is just another kind of goodbye.
The Return of the King cannot stand alone as a movie. The critics are right in saying that. But the solution to this obstacle is as simple as holding the three movies inseparable. That is how they were written by Tolkien. That is how they were filmed by Jackson. In that light, I happily say there is no better movie than
The Lord of the Rings. I find I’ve been more richly rewarded from the twelve hours it demands than from any combination of other films that could have filled that time.
This is a story that makes me better than I am.
– Panguitch
(No oliphaunts were harmed in the writing of this review.)
My reviews of other Tolkieniana:
• The Two Towers (movie):
http://www.epinions.com/content_84595936900
• The Tolkien Reader:
http://www.epinions.com/content_83305205380
• Meditations on Middle-Earth:
http://www.epinions.com/content_100388015748
• J. R. R. Tolkien: Author of the Century:
http://www.epinions.com/content_72574733956
• Tolkien: A Biography:
http://www.epinions.com/content_220187037316
• The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays:
http://www.epinions.com/content_221694496388
• Understanding The Lord of the Rings
: The Best of Tolkien Criticism:
http://www.epinions.com/content_226921975428
• The Children of Hurin:
http://www.epinions.com/content_374810250884
