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The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) – A retrospective analysis and review, Part 1

Introduction

                20 years ago this December, many of us were gearing up to see the first of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy in theaters for the first time. It was an exciting time in my household especially, with us Purvis kids having been raised on Tolkien’s literature up to that point, and for me, if I remember correctly, it was the first PG-13 movie I had been allowed to see in theaters, since I was 8 at that time. As a kid I enjoyed the movie as much as I enjoyed any fantastical, action-packed movie that I would’ve consumed back then, like Star Wars, Spider-Man, or The Mummy, but gradually the story grew to completion as the trilogy was finished and the extended editions were later released, and I was always drawn back to these films over the many others which were part of my adolescence. There always seemed to be more to draw out of them, more beats and character moments that I’d seen before but never paid enough attention to. Each experience became less about reaching the moments of action and emotional catharsis and more about examining the elements that got us there, all the material in between that built the characters and the world up.

I promised a review on all three Lord of the Rings films in a previous post, but the truth is I intend to do more than that. My intention is to break these films down and examine the various pieces that make them work, focus on the many writing choices that elevate the script and make this classic story come alive. In doing so I will be referring strictly to the extended versions of the films, since I and most everyone else considers them to be the complete and definitive versions that exist. I will also be comparing the films to the source material where necessary, since there have been many changes in the adaptation which have been unpopular with Tolkien fans even though I believe they serve this version of the story well. Lastly, because these movies are 20 years old and most of those in my reading audience are familiar with them, I’m not going to be avoiding any spoilers in this breakdown. The only way I can be thorough in discussing these movies is to talk about every part of them, and I’ll be doing it chronologically as well. So, if you haven’t seen The Lord of the Rings movies, please, do yourself a favor and set aside some time to sit down and watch them. Then, after that, come on back and give this a read 😊

Prologue/Concerning Hobbits

            Now, where to begin? Ah, yes! The prologue. As is common with fantasy or science fiction films of this caliber, the Lord of the Rings opens with a slab of exposition, narrated by a voice which we later realize to be that of Lady Galadriel. This makes enough sense, given that the exposition she gives covers thousands of years of history in broad strokes, history that she would have lived through as an immortal elf and a ruler among them. She tells of the forging of the Great Rings; three for the elves, seven for the dwarves, nine for men, and finally one more for the story’s main antagonist: Sauron. The rings are described as being endowed with the strength and will to govern each race. Upon his introduction Sauron is described as a pretty straightforward fantasy villain: he intends to rule all Middle-Earth, to spread his malice across all that he conquers, and that he has forged the One Ring to rule all other rings, and by extension the races they have been given to. Interestingly, however, it is only in this prologue (and flashbacks to it) that Sauron is seen as a physical presence throughout the entire trilogy. For the rest, he’s manifested as a fiery eye when he is seen, and thus even as the main villain he’s largely absent for much of the story. We never really see him without his armor on, leaving it up to the viewer’s imagination as to what Sauron even looks like. This plays into something I’ll get into later involving the ring, but for now, as it’s established that Sauron was once a terrible threat to Middle-Earth, we learn that there was an alliance between men and elves that fought back against Sauron’s forces, and brought the fight all the way back to his doorstep in Mordor. In the first action sequence of the trilogy, the armies of the Last Alliance battle the orcs of Mordor on the slopes of Mount Doom, but the tide of the battle quickly turns as Sauron marches onto the battlefield and utilizes the ring’s power to overwhelm his foes.

He is thwarted, however, when the young prince of Gondor, Isildur, cuts the ring from his hand, severing him from his source of power. As a result, Sauron is shown to burst apart in a wave of energy, wiping out all his own forces and ending the battle. From here Isildur takes the ring for himself, becoming the first victim of its deadly influence. Galadriel declares that the hearts of men are easily corrupted and the ring has a will of its own, and soon Isildur’s obsession with the ring leads to his death. In the ambush on his party that’s shown, Isildur is not fighting alongside his men against the orcs, but instead thinks only of himself and the ring, and he uses it to turn invisible and try to escape, the first such use shown in the films. Galadriel declares that the ring ‘betrayed’ Isildur, implying that the ring acted of its own accord to have him killed rather than Isildur dying strictly by his own mistakes. The ring falls from his fingers to the bottom of an unknown river, not to be rediscovered for 2,500 years. When at last it is found, we learn that it came to a creature called Gollum, and the ring gives him unnatural long life for 500 years, poisoning his mind and dominating his thoughts. Then, acting again of its own accord, the ring ‘abandoned’ Gollum too; it was not simply lost or cast aside, and was then found by one Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit of the shire. Bilbo takes the ring with him back to the Shire, an unknowing victim of its oppression the same as Gollum and Isildur before him, but Galadriel implies that the ring did not intend for Bilbo to find it, thus forcing a diversion in its plans. This brings us to the ‘present day’ of the story.

What I’ve just laid out is a hefty bit of exposition, but what’s important to recognize here is that this introduction is laying the groundwork for a lot of character moments which come later in the story. This isn’t just an extended exercise in world-building, although it does quite a lot of that as well; the events that Galadriel describes relate directly to characters we will later meet. Gollum will of course reappear later in the story, and more of his history will be filled in, but there’s also Aragorn, the heir of Isildur, who looks back on the failings of his forefathers and thus feels reluctant to the call of royalty, and Elrond as well, who sees the easily corrupted men as doomed stewards of Middle-Earth as a result of the events we see here. We see glimpses of Middle-Earth and its various cultures, how they differ from one another, how an alliance of men and elves was a significant achievement (and one that will be recalled later as well), and how vile and inhospitable the land of Mordor is, considering that the heroes of this story are later resolved to go there. We see that it took legions of men and elves to oppose Sauron’s forces, which gives us a sense of the story’s scope and how it will handle large-scale battles like these. To readers of Tolkien’s work, this may all seem mundane to go over, but for people whose first exposition to this story is the films, this level of establishment makes or breaks their investment in the events to come. That’s a common thread throughout these three films; they were designed to capture the tone of the books to appease readers, and also to be exciting and powerful films in order to reach audiences that are totally new to the material.

Moving on from the prologue, we transition on Galadriel’s words that hobbits will shape the fortunes of all. ‘But what are hobbits?’ a new initiate might ask, and right away one of their own begins a second set of narration. As Bilbo begins speaking, the audience sees, for the second time, a map of Middle-Earth, and on my recent watch through it got me to thinking that this repeated insertion of the map early on in the film is also an important, if subtler, form of exposition to lay out the world for the viewer. In the prologue the map focused on the land of Mordor, whereas here it begins in the heart of the Shire, essentially the polar opposite of Mordor, and it pans outward to give a better sense of the scale of this world. This can be helpful in getting the viewer to understand the magnitude of the journey which will take place later in the film, even if we aren’t paying enough attention to notice every individual location that’s outlined on these maps.

As Bilbo continues speaking to himself, we become aware that he’s reading aloud his own words as he’s begun to write a book, recording stories of his own adventures. The opening words of this book are intended to acquaint the reader with hobbits and their culture, since many people in this world have probably never met a hobbit or visited the Shire. He describes that hobbits live fairly isolated from the world of the ‘big folk’, that they have passions for drinking ale, smoking pipeweed, eating lots of food, and growing things, and that they enjoy lives full of peace and quiet, never desiring adventure or anything else to upset that peace and quiet. This is both a nod to the opening chapter of the Fellowship of the Ring book, in which Tolkien offers a similar preamble (though much wordier in text), as well as a method to acquaint the viewer with hobbits and their lifestyle. It sums up their characteristics quickly: we see them all wearing their hair long and disheveled, though none of them wear beards; we see that they are all quite small, dwarfed by cows and long grasses; we can see that they all dress similarly and never wear shoes, due to their hairy feet and thick soles. Throughout this narration we also see the cozy, green paradise of the Shire and scores of hobbits going about their daily lives. This is our stasis, our chance as viewers to see the homeland of the main characters before the adventure starts, to become familiar with these places so that we can, along with the main cast, share in their sense of longing to go home and return to normalcy again.

Throughout this introduction, Bilbo is repeatedly interrupted by knocks at his door, hinting that he’s either very popular or very important among the hobbits, and he keeps calling for Frodo to answer the door, but Frodo is not present to hear his call. Eventually we are taken away from Bilbo’s home in Bag End to meet our main protagonist: Bilbo’s nephew Frodo Baggins. Right away Frodo lives up to what we’ve already seen for how the hobbits are established; he starts the story blissfully reading in a quiet woodland, seemingly without a care or worry in the world. He soon hears distant singing, which rouses him to follow the sound through the woods, and soon we are introduced to another primary character, the wizard Gandalf the Grey. The two meet, exchange some playful banter, and then embrace warmly with laughter, letting the audience know they’re old friends, and that Gandalf, as tall and imposing as he might appear, is actually quite kindly and gentle.

A Long-Expected Party

Through their ensuing conversation we learn that Bilbo is about to host some kind of party, a big enough deal that practically the whole Shire will be in attendance. Bilbo’s narration continues as Gandalf and Frodo ride through the countryside, and it starts to turn more thoughtful as Bilbo declares that ‘things are made to endure in the Shire, passing from one generation to the next. There’s always been a Baggins living here, under the hill, in Bag End. There always will be…’ He says this with an inflection of uncertainty, indicating he has some plans for his home in Bag End, and perhaps Frodo doesn’t know about them yet. As we return to Frodo and Gandalf, Frodo remarks that Bilbo’s been acting odd lately, locking himself away and poring over maps. As he describes this, we begin to see a private moment where Bilbo starts frantically looking for something, with greater and greater desperation until he reaches into his pocket and finds it. We don’t clearly see the ring in his hand, but it’s enough to recall that he’s still holding onto it after finding it in the Misty Mountains years ago, and having seen the deadly effect the ring had on Isildur and Gollum in the prologue, and seeing how desperate he still is presently, we understand that all is not well with Bilbo despite how he may appear on the surface. Gandalf says nothing about what Frodo tells him, and Frodo suspects that he has something to do with it, considering that Gandalf was held responsible for Bilbo’s past adventures, including the riches he brought home and any change in his character as a result of them. I think much of this segment is an allusion to the story told in The Hobbit and is mostly meant for book readers, but it’s also a bit of foreshadowing as well, considering the role Gandalf has to play in Frodo’s upcoming adventures as he remarks that all he did was ‘give Bilbo a nudge out the door’.

Following this is a nice little sequence where a group of hobbit children start following Gandalf’s cart and call out his name, demanding a firework show. He delays long enough for them to think he won’t do it, then gives them a quick magic show as colorful sparks explode off the back of his cart, and he’s rewarded with cheering and laughter. It’s a very endearing moment, and it shows that despite Gandalf’s reputation among the older hobbits for being a disturber of the peace, he’s still a welcome presence for many in the Shire. I’m not sure how the hobbit children knew who Gandalf was to follow after him and expect fireworks, since it appears by Frodo and Bilbo’s reactions to seeing him that he’s not been in the Shire for years. But perhaps the children knew him by reputation, from stories that older hobbits would’ve told them. In any case, following this incident, Frodo bids a quick farewell to Gandalf for now, and the wizard continues on to Bag End to meet his old friend. Wide shots of the Shire continue to reinforce how beautiful and pleasant the land is, a cozy place for our heroes to call home.

Gandalf goes to knock at the round green door of the hobbit hole, and is met by Bilbo’s irritated voice, saying he doesn’t want any more “visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations”, to which Gandalf says he’s a very old friend, and Bilbo opens the door, shocked to see his old wizard mentor standing there. The two exchange a hug, and for the first time we get to see the height difference between Gandalf and the hobbits, where before we could only guess at it by his stature next to Frodo on the cart. Here Gandalf declares that he can hardly believe that Bilbo is 111 years old, and looking at him he quietly notices that Bilbo’s not aged a day, again indicating that he’s not seen Bilbo in many years and that there’s something keeping him static in appearance. As the audience we can pick up it’s the ring that’s done this, but while Gandalf knows that Bilbo has a magic ring of some kind, he doesn’t yet know it’s the One Ring. Bilbo welcomes Gandalf into his house for tea, and we see Gandalf fumbling awkwardly with the small structure of the house against his great height. While Bilbo rushes to the kitchen to get food and tea ready, Gandalf notices an old map on his table depicting the Lonely Mountain, where once dwelled the dragon Smaug, another allusion to The Hobbit for the fans. It’s also a hint that Bilbo’s perhaps been feeling at once sentimental and hungering for adventure again, wanting to revisit locations from his travels in the past.

Bilbo loses track of Gandalf for a moment, who reappears behind him in the kitchen in some act of wizardry that’s rather subtle and unexplained. Before Gandalf and Bilbo can sit down to tea, there’s some harsh knocking at the door, and Bilbo makes it clear to Gandalf that he wants to keep quiet, saying it’s the Sackville Bagginses. They’ve come for his house and his riches, angry that he’s getting so old that they might not see their inheritance. He adds that this pressure from his relatives is part of why he’s ready to leave the Shire again, to have another adventure while he still can. Gandalf warns him that Frodo suspects something, and that he might take it hard if Bilbo suddenly leaves because he’s grown fond of him. Bilbo acknowledges this remorsefully, yet still feels that he must, that something has made him feel very old and frail despite how he looks. He needs the holiday to finish the book he’s writing, and perhaps to feel rejuvenated; and that once he leaves, he doesn’t intend to return home at all.

The birthday party is soon to begin, but before it starts Gandalf and Bilbo share some Old Toby, a type of pipeweed native to the Shire. Little is said as Bilbo blows a smoke-ring and Gandalf blows a magical smoky ship through it, but it’s still a nice quiet moment between two old friends, and Bilbo looks out across the Shire for what he believes will be the last time. It also shows Gandalf shares the hobbits’ love for pipeweed, something which is touched on later. Bilbo says that this will be a night to remember, and with an explosion of fireworks we arrive at the birthday party, full of food, ale, music, dancing hobbits, and joviality. Bilbo makes the rounds greeting his many guests and tells children stories of his adventures, Gandalf is at work sending up a variety of fireworks, Frodo is having a good time, and we’re introduced to three new principal characters. First there is Samwise Gamgee, or Sam, who nervously looks over his shoulder at a girl he clearly admires but won’t ask for a dance, showing his irresoluteness and lack of courage. Frodo encourages him to dance with Rosie, but when he tries to make a getaway Frodo stops him and sends him right to her arms, laughing giddily. The other two new characters are Merry and Pippin, whose full names only Gandalf uses (Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took), and right away they appear mischievous, sneaking into Gandalf’s cart to steal fireworks and have their own fun. They unleash a giant red dragon firework over the party, and it causes some terror and chaos for a moment as it swoops over the crowd before making the grandest explosion of all. Gandalf catches the two young miscreants in the act, and punishes them by making them wash dishes for all the guests. This shows Gandalf’s imposed position over the hobbits as a sort of scolding parental figure, one which will be explored further in the Fellowship.

There’s a small, personal scene during the party, which oddly enough is Frodo and Bilbo’s only scene together while in the Shire. As Bilbo is greeting some of his guests, he hears the Sackville Bagginses again coming after him for the house, and he gets Frodo’s help in hiding from them. Once they pass by, Bilbo offers his gratitude and the best he can give as a farewell to Frodo in this moment without outright telling him that he’s leaving. He wants Frodo to know that he chose to raise him after his parents died because he saw spirit in him, perhaps the same kind of adventurous spirit that makes Bilbo feel so disconnected from the Shire all these years later, but it connects him to Frodo in a special way. A payoff to this scene comes when they reunite in Rivendell, but for now Frodo doesn’t know how to react or why Bilbo is telling him these things.

The crowd demands a birthday speech from Bilbo himself, so he steps up in front of the party tree to address them all, naming a variety of families who are dear to him as they each raise their voices and a flagon of ale to him. The speech starts full of glee, then takes an awkward turn as Bilbo makes a joke that no one else seems to understand. In this moment Bilbo begins to get tense, knowing the moment is soon at hand where he must commit to his decision for all to see. He draws something from his pocket, which Gandalf notices, and he announces that this is the end, that he’s going and he bids everyone a fond farewell, then he disappears to the shock of the whole crowd. This appears to infuriate Gandalf, and the camera follows an invisible Bilbo back to his house, where he reappears after closing the door behind him and removing the ring from his finger. Bilbo laughs as he regards the ring, showing that he doesn’t understand its sinister nature, and doesn’t have the first clue what it really is. He then begins packing his things for a long journey until he runs into Gandalf in his living room, the second time that Gandalf has suddenly appeared when he’s unexpected (he arrives precisely when he means to). He scolds Bilbo, again like a father to a child, for using a magic ring so lightly in front of so many people. Bilbo asks Gandalf to continue to look after Frodo, and he declares that everything he owns will be left to Frodo. Gandalf asks if the ring is to be part this inheritance, and while flippant at first, Bilbo realizes the ring is still in his pocket, and he begins caressing it in his hands as the tone of the scene shifts rather starkly.

Here once again we see the One Ring as it has an effect on someone we’ve grown to care about from time following him in the story, only now we know Bilbo better and the context of what’s going on around him, and the ring becomes an even more threatening presence in that context. As part of a departure from the books, the One Ring in these movies has been treated by Jackson and the screenwriters as a character in itself, rather than an item the heroes must carry. It is the most prominent and consistent manifestation of Sauron’s evil, and while it may not audibly speak with any of the other characters, it still manages to interact with them, having a grave effect on everyone who lays eyes on it, and especially anyone who touches it. They begin to inexplicably desire it, and to those who have held onto it, like Bilbo, it becomes like an addiction that they must continue to have it, to hold and touch it even though it provides nothing in return. In this scene, Bilbo becomes more possessive the longer he looks at it, asking after all why he shouldn’t keep it. He calls the ring his ‘precious’, the same as we heard Gollum call it during the prologue. As Gandalf begins pressing him, he becomes defensive to the point of getting angry and lashing out, accusing Gandalf of trying to take it from him.

To this Gandalf becomes angry as well and once again takes the role of a father wanting what’s best for his child, snapping at Bilbo and using his magic to amplify his voice and darken the room, and he tells him that he’s only trying to help him. As Gandalf’s magic recedes, Bilbo caves and approaches him, and the two share a hug as Gandalf implores Bilbo to trust him like in the long years before, and give up the ring. Bilbo agrees and says the ring will pass to Frodo, then starts to leave the house with the ring still in his possession. Gandalf reminds him of this, and so Bilbo stops and faces a difficult moment as he must leave the ring behind, freeing himself for the first time in many years. Gandalf watches him closely until the ring falls from his hand, and makes a heavy sound as it hits the floor, symbolizing the great weight it had become on Bilbo’s life and conscience. With this weight no longer on his shoulders, Bilbo steps out of his hobbit hole into the night and has a sudden moment of clarity, immediately thinking up the ending line of his book: “And he lives happily ever after, to the end of his days”. Having just freed himself from the ring’s control, he feels an emotional high as he leaves Bag End forever, bidding Gandalf goodbye and singing the same tune we heard Gandalf singing when he first appeared in the film; ‘the road goes ever on and on’. Here Gandalf smiles and indicates that they will meet again one day.

The Shadow of the Past

As Gandalf returns inside of the house, his eyes are drawn to the ring sitting on the floor, and its magical properties and Bilbo’s obsession and protectiveness of it have clearly gotten his attention. He reaches for the ring, but just before he touches it, the screen flashes with the image of the Eye of Sauron and we hear a fiery voice call out from it. Further troubled by this, Gandalf moves away, and he begins pondering Bilbo’s words as he smokes in front of the lit fireplace. He mutters about riddles in the dark, another allusion to The Hobbit for a scene in which Bilbo encounters Gollum, indicating that Bilbo must have told Gandalf this story at least in part. We’ve had hints that Gandalf must know who Gollum is, and that he had the One Ring for a long time, since he took notice of Bilbo’s use of the words ‘my precious’. While Gandalf is considering the implications of this, Frodo bursts into the house calling out for his uncle, and he notices the ring on the floor and casually picks it up. He then notices Gandalf by the fireplace, and by this he understands that Bilbo has really gone. Frodo then makes it known that Bilbo had talked about leaving the Shire for years, so long that Frodo didn’t think it would ever happen. He seems gutted by this, understanding now the previous conversation they had and not getting a chance to say goodbye. Gandalf sees the ring in Frodo’s hand, and he tells him that Bilbo’s gone to stay with the elves, and that all of his possessions, including Bag End and the ring, are now left to Frodo. For the ring, however, he warns Frodo to keep it somewhere hidden, and it’s placed in an envelope and sealed, a thin layer of protection to prevent the ring from being seen or directly touched while it is handled.

Then suddenly Gandalf starts to leave, explaining to Frodo that there are questions he needs to have answered. When Frodo says that he doesn’t understand, Gandalf replies that he doesn’t either, and again he warns Frodo that he must keep the ring secret and safe. The camera presses close to Gandalf’s face as he says this, imposing just how serious he is about this request, which is a method that Jackson employs in many moments throughout the films. This is not the same warm, jovial Gandalf that we saw when Frodo first met with him earlier. When he is gone, Frodo looks down at the envelope where the ring has been enclosed, likely asking himself what’s so special about this ring, and sinister music begins to swell.

From this moment we transition into Mordor, the polar opposite of the Shire in Middle-Earth. We see rivers of magma, a barren landscape of rock and ash, and a massive dark fortress with sharp, jagged structures towering over the magma and sprawling with orcs and torches to light the darkness; the Tower of Barad-Dur, Sauron’s fortress. As the camera pans up on this horrid structure, we begin to hear the agonized cries of some creature being tortured, and at length it cries out the names “Shire! Baggins!” Mount Doom begins to spew with lava again, as we saw in the prologue, indicating that the evil in Mordor is stirring again as it did in the older days. We then see a second dark fortress, illuminated by a green glowing light, and its gates open to let forth a small battalion of black hooded riders. As we learn from Saruman later, they are the Nine who have been sent out from Minas Morgul in response to the information given from the two names; they are headed for the Shire. This montage of dark imagery, bolstered by a score of music that emphasizes the power and the threat of Mordor, gives the film new urgency, accelerating it from the slow, comfortable pace we had settled into in the Shire.

We next see Gandalf riding past mountain ranges, and from his POV we see the violent storms that have built in the distant mountains where Mordor lies. Clearly, from what we saw on the maps earlier in the film, Gandalf has traveled a great distance, so time has certainly passed since we last saw him in Bag End. The stirring in Mordor keeps Gandalf’s attention briefly, then he turns toward a great city to the south, a huge fortress with several layers that faces out toward Mordor. It is a city of men called Minas Tirith, a place we will revisit in the third film, and it is here that Gandalf comes to investigate the last known whereabouts of the One Ring, when Isildur cut it from Sauron’s hand. He is shown to some sort of library, where he sifts through many scrolls until he finds the account of Isildur. As he reads, we are shown flashbacks to the prologue when Isildur first picked up the ring. Isildur writes that the ring will be an heirloom of his kingdom, that all who follow in his bloodline shall be bound to its fate (I.E. Aragorn), and the ring is precious to him. The One Ring is shown to have markings on its band which gradually fade and Isildur claims that they only reappear when it is brought in contact with fire, and it can change size to fit whoever possesses it. With this knowledge, Gandalf knows he must return to the Shire to test the ring with fire, the only way to know for sure if it is indeed the One Ring he so desperately fears.

But he may be late in getting there. The next that we see is one of the nine black riders sent from Minas Morgul appearing very ominously to a hobbit farmer, frightening both him and his dog. Already they have reached the Shire, and with a spectral voice the rider says the two names that were given in Barad-Dur. To this, the hobbit points the rider down the road toward Hobbiton, saying Baggins lives there. The horseman rides off quickly, and we can see shadows of other riders following behind him. This sort of plays into the idea that a monster is more horrifying when you see it in a familiar place, like your house. The black riders contrast so intensely with all that is pleasant and green in the Shire, with their wispy voices, wicked-looking horses, and piercing screams, and having no face under the hoods to identify them. They are essentially evil incarnate, and the hobbits are helpless to stand against them.

We’re next taken to a pub in the Shire known as the Green Dragon Inn, joining a crowd of lively hobbits as they drink, sing, and have a good old time in their peaceful corner of the world. Merry and Pippin are seen here leading everyone in a song as they dance on a table, again showing their untamed fun-loving nature and that they are generally well-liked despite their rascally behavior. As the song concludes we transition over to a table where Sam sits quietly among some elderly hobbits, gossiping about strange folk in the Shire, including “dwarves and others of a less than savory nature”, possibly alluding to the black riders, which would mean they’ve been in the Shire long enough for word to spread about them. They mention Bilbo and how he was ‘cracked’, likely changed by the adventures he had and more concerned with the outside world than the hobbits around him. As Frodo comes to the table, one of the elders (who, though not explicitly revealed in the film, is actually the Gaffer, or Hamfast Gamgee, Sam’s father) remarks that he’s cracking as well, which might be a bit foreboding considering that Frodo’s had the ring for some time by now, not that any of the other hobbits know about it. One of the hobbits warns Frodo to keep his nose out of trouble and none will come to him, a warning which has sadly come too late for him even if he doesn’t realize it yet.

Throughout the conversation, Sam is gazing wistfully at Rosie the barmaid, who sends him smiles, but even now Sam continues to lack the courage to go up to her. Even afterwards, when he and Frodo leave the inn, they pass her and she bids him goodnight, and he still sort of awkwardly shuffles past her without a word. Then he overhears the hobbit behind him very overtly try to sweet-talk her, and yet, despite taking offense to it, Sam does nothing than grumble to himself. It’s all very subtle material, and yet it does a lot to lay the groundwork for Sam’s character. Many people pick Sam as being their favorite character in these movies, and a lot of it has to do with his stalwart friendship with Frodo and his incredible acts courage later on in the story, and seeing him so timid and quiet early on in the story is such a contrast to what he grows into. His interactions, or lack thereof, with Rosie in Fellowship are both showing the audience who he is as a character to begin with and acting as a setup for many events to come, including some as late as the third act of Return of the King.

Sam walks Frodo home from the inn despite that it appears he’s had more to drink than Frodo, and presently Frodo goes into the house he’s inherited from Bilbo. There’s a stark difference in tone seeing the house now as when we were first brought into it; there are no lights except from the windows, there’s a breeze blowing the papers and shutters, and dark, brooding music hums slowly as Frodo cautiously looks around. This place, in the heart of the Shire, no longer appears safe, and with the black riders on the hunt we fear for Frodo’s life up to the moment a hand reaches out to him from the darkness behind. The jump scare reveals it’s only Gandalf having returned at last, but this Gandalf is very urgent, his voice hissing as he asks if the ring is still kept secret here. As Frodo searches for it, Gandalf is sensitive to every noise he hears. The moment Frodo turns up the envelope, Gandalf snatches it and throws it immediately into the fireplace and lets the ring stay for a moment as the parchment burns. But the ring doesn’t start to melt, and when Gandalf pulls the ring from the fire with some pincers, he passes it to Frodo, assuring him that it won’t be hot to the touch. Frodo seems startled by the sensation, and Gandalf asks if there’s anything to be seen on the ring. For a moment nothing occurs, then Frodo notices strange markings in an unknown language, and Gandalf’s worst fears are confirmed. He explains the markings as the language of Mordor, the very name of which troubles Frodo. The words in the common tongue read “One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them”, which Gandalf utters in a very icy tone of voice.

The Shadow of the Past sequence that follows is perhaps the most-exposition heavy segment of all three films, where Gandalf must explain to Frodo, our audience POV character, about the ring, Sauron, and how it came to be in Bilbo’s possession after all these years. Gandalf knows now, from what he’s seen, that Sauron’s power is growing again, and the ring can no longer be kept hidden. We learn here the true stakes of the story: “Sauron needs only this ring to cover all the lands in a second darkness.” Through Frodo tries to propose hiding it, since no one else knows that it’s in the Shire, Gandalf shares that Gollum knew, and that he shared this information with the enemy, that even now his servants could be closing in on Hobbiton. I’m not entirely sure how Gandalf has this information; he mentions that the enemy found Gollum before he could, which doesn’t necessarily imply that he ever found him, and he certainly wasn’t present in the tower when Gollum was tortured. In the book it’s explained that Aragorn and Gandalf tracked down Gollum together and questioned him, but I suppose it’s a bit of connective tissue that couldn’t be organically inserted into the films. It could still benefit from having provided it though, I suppose.

In any case, Frodo understands from this that the ring is a threat to his life, and we see the danger for ourselves as a black rider takes a sword to a hobbit on night patrol, coming ever closer to Bag End. Frodo desperately tries to give the ring to Gandalf, but Gandalf fearfully backs away from it, knowing that if he ever touched the ring and became corrupted by it, the ring could wield his magic powers in ways ‘too great and terrible to imagine’. The effect this ring has on Gandalf, the fear in his eyes and how he stammers to ward off the temptation it presents, only deepens the audience’s understanding that the ring is a terrible force to be reckoned with. Frodo knows that the ring cannot stay in the Shire, and so he gradually understands that it must leave with him. He begins packing quickly, as Gandalf gives him instructions to meet him in the village of Bree, at an inn called the Prancing Pony, and to shed the name of Baggins since it’s been marked by Gollum. He must travel only in daylight and never use the roads. Before their meeting at the Prancing Pony, Gandalf intends to meet with his master, certain that he’ll know what to do next.

Leaving the Shire/The Black Rider

With Frodo fully suited for travel, Gandalf pauses to take a moment and show his warm, sentimental side. He shares how hobbits still have the capacity to surprise and amaze him after so many years, showing his gratefulness to Frodo for doing something so dangerous with so little thought. This surely gives Frodo a boost of confidence, but the moment is cut short when they hear a noise from outside. There’s a long moment of tension where we as the audience wonder if it’s too late, if the riders have arrived, and if Gandalf can stop them on his own. But to everyone’s relief, the noise is revealed to be only Sam, who Gandalf reprimands for eavesdropping. Sam reveals that while he believes he hasn’t heard anything important, he’s in fact heard just about everything important about their dialogue. He begs Gandalf not to punish him, but as it happened Sam was there at just the right time to be what Frodo and Gandalf needed at that moment: a companion for the road ahead.

And thus the journey officially begins, the extent of which none of the characters were remotely aware of at that time. Gandalf leads the two hobbits out of Hobbiton, warning them to be wary of the enemy’s spies, including birds. He gives one final word of warning to Frodo that the ring must never be worn, as it will draw the agents of Sauron right to him. He tells Frodo that the ring has its own will that he must contend with, and it will do whatever it must to be reunited with its master. With that, Gandalf rides away to the south, and Frodo and Sam carry on together through the Shire. They cut across farmland and wide green pastures, until one moment where Sam realizes he’ll be farther away from home than ever before if he takes another step, his homesick hobbit nature at odds with the need for travel. But Frodo encourages him, and as they press on we hear for the first time Howard Shore’s Fellowship Theme in the soundtrack, subtly hinting that at that moment the Fellowship of the Ring was born.

The two make camp in a woodland, with Sam cooking food and both smoking their pipes as they indulge their hobbit ways the best they can on the road. Then they hear singing, and Frodo says it’s coming from wood elves. They follow the sound until they find a group of elves walking slowly on the road, singing as they go, their flowing robes glowing in the night and their voices in perfect harmony. To our knowledge it’s the first time either hobbit has encountered elves, and they seem mesmerized by them. Frodo says that they are heading for the White Harbor in the Grey Havens, and Sam recognizes that this means that the elves are leaving Middle-Earth, never to return, and he’s saddened by this. It’s a soft but important bit of exposition, since the Grey Havens are an important location later in the story, especially to the hobbits, and the motif of the elves’ departure is crucial for other characters as well. The next moment is a bit of bonding between the two, as Sam can’t get comfortable sleeping on the ground and Frodo offers some advice to help. It’s one of many small moments that creeps up on the viewer to add to this budding friendship at the center of the story, one which starts out thin and grows stronger with each scene they have together. But the hobbits remain in danger, as we see a black rider restlessly searching for them in the wild at night.

We then return to Gandalf as he arrives at Isengard, or more strictly the Tower of Orthanc, where his master, the wizard Saruman the White, awaits him. From his words Saruman appears to be aware of the events transpiring in Mordor, and he first greets Gandalf as a friend. As they speak, we are shown birds flying above them near the tower, a hint that Sauron’s spies are here and Saruman may not be the friend he seems to be. Gandalf shares with him that the One Ring has been found in the Shire, and Saruman berates him for being too slow and dim to notice the ring if it was under his nose, citing that his love for the hobbits’ pipeweed is the cause. He says that there is no longer time to counter Sauron, that he while he cannot yet take physical form, he can see all Middle-Earth as the Great Eye, a glimpse of which we, and Gandalf, have seen before. Saruman continues to speak of Sauron’s plans, which he has gathered by use of a seeing-stone called a Palantir. This worries Gandalf, since using a Palantir is very dangerous while they are not all accounted for; anyone, including Sauron, could be on the other end. As Gandalf touches the Palantir by happenstance, he catches another glimpse of Sauron’s eye, and he understands fully how Saruman has gotten his information. Saruman declares that Sauron has sent the nine from Minas Morgul, and that they are currently in the Shire hunting for the ring. Once they find it, they will kill whoever carries it.

This sends Gandalf into a panic, and he attempts to leave at once, but Saruman prevents him, showing Gandalf and the audience whose side Saruman has taken. Saruman tries to convince Gandalf to join with Sauron as well, explaining that Sauron cannot be opposed, but Gandalf responds by implying that Saruman has turned to madness. This sets Saruman off, and he attacks Gandalf with his sorcery, using his staff as the focus of his power, throwing him against the walls and onto the hard floors. Gandalf fights back in the same manner, but is ultimately overpowered when Saruman takes his staff and sends him flying to the top of the tower. From this skirmish, and from earlier dialogue where Saruman controlled the conversation, we understand that he is very much Gandalf’s superior, and thus another formidable threat to our heroes where we had once thought we had a valuable ally. For the moment, the fate of Gandalf is left ambiguous.

Meanwhile Frodo and Sam continue their journey through some farmland in the Shire, and for a moment Sam worries that he’s lost Frodo when he can’t see him and he doesn’t immediately answer his call, but then Frodo reappears and all is well. Sam explains himself, saying that Gandalf told him “‘Don’t you lose him, Samwise Gamgee’, and I don’t mean to”. This line is, for now, a simple setup to support the idea that, while Sam is Frodo’s friend, he’s been forced into this partnership with him by Gandalf, rather than volunteering for it. In the third act, we’ll see how this sentiment becomes recontextualized, but for now Frodo scoffs at this, reasoning that they’re still in the Shire and thus relatively safe. At that moment both hobbits are struck and tackled by two other hobbits; their good friends Merry and Pippin. The two have no clue what Frodo and Sam are up to, but they’re up to their own mischief again, stealing crops from the local Farmer Maggot. They try to get Frodo and Sam to share the load they’ve taken, but once the farmer and his dog start bearing down on them, they all start to make a run for it. This evasion leads them to a ravine where they all fall and roll down a slope until landing safely at the side of a road. It serves as a bit of light-hearted action to bring Merry and Pippin together with Frodo and Sam, working around the book’s subplot of Frodo leaving Hobbiton by buying a new house in Buckland and traveling with Sam and Pippin to meet Merry there. It helps to strengthen Frodo and Sam’s relationship early on, while also allowing Merry and Pippin to be consistent with the comically mischievous side characters they’ve been introduced as, and ultimately serving the same effect on the story going forward.

Merry, Sam, and Pippin soon become distracted by a growth of mushrooms nearby and start collecting them, but Frodo looks around and realizes they’re on the East Road, and Gandalf specifically warned him to stay away from roads. As he mentions this, right on cue Frodo hears an awful noise coming from down the road, and with a rush of wind he senses something dangerous coming their way. He hurries his friends off the road and they all take shelter in a large hole underneath a nearby tree. Even as they hide, Sam, Merry, and Pippin remain concerned with their mushroom pickings, until they all hear the sound of hoofbeats come closer and stop just above them. One of the nine black riders has appeared and can sense his prey, and he is positioned with his large horse to be massive and imposing above the defenseless hobbits who don’t even have weapons yet. As he arrives, we can hear birds taking flight. Frodo looks up through a small hole near his head and sees the hoofs of the black steed pinned with nails and dripping with blood, showing the cruel methods of Mordor, until he sees the steel boot of the rider hit the earth. The hobbits are quiet as death as the black hooded figure starts making a sniffing sound, struggling to remain still while spiders and other crawling creatures start creeping around them; away from the black rider, as it seems this evil presence causes even the animals to flee in terror.

At this moment, Frodo faces his first temptation of the One Ring. Like Isildur in the opening, his thoughts turn inward and to the ring, rather than with the hobbits around him. We see him shift into this sickening façade as the ring pulls on him, and he starts to reach for his pocket. When the ring emerges, the rider’s sniffing gets more intense and even the horse reacts. Frodo is an inch away from putting the ring on, when Sam, who sees this happening and was the only hobbit present when Gandalf warned him never to wear it, reaches over and stops him. Frodo snaps out of his delusion, the rider stops sniffing, and Merry takes action, throwing the bag of mushrooms to create a sound to distract the rider. When it shrieks and scurries off, the hobbits take the opening to run for it, fleeing until they reach a safe distance where they stop for a breather. Merry asks what they just escaped from, and while no one is certain, Frodo opens up his hand and regards the ring still sitting there. He’s gotten a taste now of the danger it presents to him, and how easily its power can influence him, and thus he gains a new fear and respect for this ring.

The hunt continues into the night as we see a black rider moving through the forest, making the same high-pitched scream that we’ve heard from them numerous times now. The journey has now transitioned into unfamiliar and unfriendly lands, with a mist in the windy air and trees slanted into spooky shapes. The hobbits scurry through the woods, the camera panning down to focus on their bare feet as they run, perhaps suggesting that their regular shoeless nature serves them well in this instance to quiet their movements. They are very cautious as they move from one hiding spot to another. Merry and Pippin each wonder what this is all about, and Merry asks who the rider could be searching for. Sam suddenly sees a rider on the horizon, and they all crouch, their eyes fixed on the menacing black figure as they each see it in full at last. Frodo then answers Merry, saying that he and Sam are in fact leaving the Shire and heading to Bree, so Merry starts to lead them to a place called Buckleberry Ferry, where they can get quick passage further east.

The four hobbits do not get far before they run into a black rider, and in a panic they run back and forth and around the rider as Merry frantically tries to get his friends to follow him away. The rider chases them further into the forest, until at last the hobbits climb over a fence into a clearing which leads to the ferry. They hastily prepare the ferry for its voyage, but Frodo has lagged behind, and he’s the last to reach the raft with a black rider hot on his heels. He makes a long jump to reach the boat just in time, and the rider is forced to stop on the pier, letting out a terrible scream to threaten the hobbits once more. Then the rider turns and leaves, and we see it join with two other riders on the road, showing the hobbits that it isn’t just a single rider on their trail, thus raising the stakes. Frodo asks about the nearest crossing, which Merry answers is the Brandywine Bridge twenty miles away, giving them a good enough head start to reach Bree before the riders can catch up to them again.

Arriving at the Prancing Pony

It’s at this point I’d like to address one issue many Tolkien purists have with the Fellowship of the Ring film specifically. There’s been a significant portion of material from the book, multiple chapters’ worth, which was not included in the film, regarding the Old Forest at the borders of the Shire, its master Tom Bombadil and his lady Goldberry, and the Barrow Downs which are haunted by wights. Many fans feel that this part of the story adds much to the world-building, and that Tom Bombadil is a very unique character on whom the ring’s power has no effect. Jackson has explained that including this sequence would not only stretch the film’s already immense running time, it would also potentially confuse audiences and lessen the ring’s threatening presence as a character in these films. In addition, I also feel that including this part of the story would bog down the pacing quite a bit, with the hobbits reaching such a hearty sanctuary before they’ve faced much danger or hardship on their travels. I also don’t know that this sequence could’ve been used to set up anything else later in the story, since Tom doesn’t appear in the book after the Barrow Downs chapter aside from being mentioned. So, as much as I understand the connection book fans have made to this section of the story and the characters it introduces after reading it for many years, I believe it was the right call to cut it from the films. This decision isn’t exactly exclusive to Peter Jackson, anyway; in Ralph Bakshi’s 1978 adaptation of the Lord of the Rings the same cut was made, although there’s significantly less meat on the bones of that film than Jackson’s trilogy.

Returning to the film, we follow the four hobbits as they arrive at the village of Bree on a rainy night. They remain wary with each move they make, crossing the road to knock at the wooden gates. The gatekeeper appears, and Frodo explains that they are heading for the Prancing Pony. The gatekeeper sounds surprised to see hobbits of the Shire (which makes sense, since most hobbits aren’t fond of adventures), and seems much friendlier to them as a result. Frodo keeps their business to himself, saying they only wish to stay at the inn. In response the gatekeeper lets them through, saying he must ask questions of travelers after nightfall, citing that there’s been talk of strange folk abroad (the black riders, most likely). The hobbits enter Bree and find it a dank, unwelcoming place with muddy streets and sneering faces, and lots of men who could trample them underfoot if they aren’t careful. At length they find the Prancing Pony Inn and come inside.

The inn is bustling with people laughing and having drinks, and once again the hobbits feel very small by comparison. But there’s a sense of relief at their arrival, getting to a dry place where they can eat, rest their heads, and meet with Gandalf at last. Frodo goes to speak with the proprietor, who is unnamed in the film but goes by the name Barliman Butterbur in the book. Barliman, like the gatekeeper, sees the hobbits and is quite friendly to them, welcoming them warmly to his inn, and he adds that there are hobbit-sized rooms available for them. He asks for Frodo’s name, and Frodo, remembering Gandalf’s warnings, chooses the name Underhill to protect himself. Frodo asks him to tell Gandalf that they’ve arrived, that they’re friends of his. Barliman takes a moment to recall Gandalf, then replies that he’s not seen the wizard for six months. In this moment, the hobbits’ sense of security disappears, and they’re left to wonder what’s next for them.

Frodo’s conclusion is that the only thing they can do now is wait for Gandalf to arrive. Clearly this turn of events has upset him; in his first interaction with Gandalf in the film, Gandalf declares that a wizard is never late. For Gandalf not to be here, something must have gone terribly wrong, so even as he tries to reassure the other hobbits, he feels rather hopeless himself. As the four hobbits sit and try to enjoy their drinks, the camera focuses on numerous other figures in the inn, several unfriendly faces which seem to glance at the hobbits suspiciously. Gandalf had also warned of the enemy’s spies, a thought which must be close to Frodo’s mind in such an unfamiliar place. Merry and Pippin meanwhile remain somewhat ambivalent, ordering huge pints of ale and enjoying their visit.

Sam presently brings Frodo’s attention to a man sitting in the corner who has been eyeing Frodo ever since they arrived. As Barliman passes by with drinks, Frodo asks him about this man, and Barliman explains that he’s a ranger, a dangerous wanderer whose true name no one seems to know, so everyone calls him Strider. Frodo ponders the name, wary of him as much as all the other potential spies around him, and once again his thoughts turn to the ring for protection. He hears a voice in his head calling the name of Baggins, again and again until he hears the same name in Pippin’s voice. Pippin, after all, had not been privy to Frodo’s need to keep his true identity hidden, so he casually prattles to strangers about his family relation to Frodo, causing Frodo to panic and run over to him. We see as Strider overhears all this and pays attention to Frodo’s sudden movement. In his attempt to warn Pippin, Frodo slips on spilled beer and accidentally throws the ring into the air, and when it comes back down to him it slips onto his finger, acting of its own will to corrupt him bit by bit. Frodo turns invisible before everyone’s eyes, and the crowd gasps while the hobbits, and Strider as well, take particular notice. In addition, we see the black riders halt during their hunt as they sense the ring has been put on, and they change direction and start heading for Bree.

Frodo awakens to see that the ring has transported him into some alternate version of the world, where everyone around him has become ghostly, shadowy figures and everything he sees has become distorted and blurred. He then hears a voice telling him that he can’t hide, and he turns as the voice declares he can see him clearly. Frodo beholds the Eye of Sauron gazing intensely at him in all its fiery malice, the One Ring giving Sauron a clear window to its wearer all the way from his tower in Mordor. Frodo falls and tries to crawl and hide away from this menace, but even as he does all the shadowy figures around him seem to be burned away as the eye follows him. At last he struggles to pull the ring off his finger, and all returns to normal, and the eye disappears, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

But this moment of respite ends quickly as Frodo is seized by the man Strider, who tells him he’s brought too much attention to himself, making a mockery of the name Mr. Underhill, and then hoists him upstairs into one of the rooms. Strider explains that he knows Frodo carries more than a simple trinket, that to disappear entirely is a rare gift. Frodo asks who Strider really is, and Strider suspects the hobbit isn’t fully aware of the true threat to his life as the riders are on the move. Strider doesn’t reveal his name, our first hint that he, too, is keeping his identity hidden. He is interrupted then when Sam, Merry, and Pippin burst into the room ready to fight for their friend. Upon seeing them, Strider commends Sam for his courage as he puts away his sword. He then tells Frodo, calling him by his real name rather than Mr. Underhill, that he cannot wait for a wizard here, revealing that he must know Gandalf and he must also know the nature of their quest. He says that they are coming, and to drive home this threat we are brought back to the gatekeeper of Bree as he responds to strange noises at the gate. The moment he checks, the gate is battered down by black horses, and he is flattened with it, showing the terrible ruthlessness of the black riders in their hunt for the ring. Five of them enter the village and head straight for the Prancing Pony. With blades drawn, they enter the inn under darkness, with all the guests having fled the scene, and Barliman cowers in fear while the riders pass him by.

The riders enter a bedroom in the inn, and the scene is intercut with shots of the hobbits sleeping peacefully in their beds. The riders position themselves each to a single bed and hold their swords to point for a downward thrust, and the tension builds and builds as we keep seeing the hobbits asleep, totally unaware. Then the riders strike, and the hobbits suddenly wake and react, the sounds of the stabbing blades coming again and again as we watch in horror, only to then see as Strider watches the scene from a far window. The riders then check the beds to find that they’ve been deceived; the beds are filled with feather pillows and the hobbits are safely across the road in a separate inn with Strider looking after them, thus showing Strider’s ingenuity in evading the riders and that he’s chosen to help and protect the hobbits. Even so, the hobbits hear the riders shrieking and are filled with dread. Frodo asks what these things are, and Strider reveals that they were once kings of men who were given rings of power, the same nine kings of men we were shown in the prologue. Corrupted by the rings’ power and Sauron’s influence over them, these men were transformed into Ringwraiths, or Nazgul, neither alive nor dead, and they are now slaves to the will of Sauron. For as long as they remain in this spectral form, they will never stop hunting the one who carries the ring.

Strider/A Knife in the Dark

The hobbits leave Bree under Strider’s protection, and with Strider comes a pony named Bill to help carry all their supplies. His addition to their company is so subtle that I missed it during the first several viewings of the film, and I had always assumed it was Sam’s pony brought from the Shire. In the book it’s explained that the pony was bartered from a man in Bree named Bill Ferny, a sneaky, sniveling denizen who had badly mistreated the poor creature. But since Ferny was never an established character in the film, this part was cut from the movie and we’re left to assume the pony is simply the one Strider uses in his travels, and Sam takes a liking to him over the course of the journey.

Strider takes the hobbits into the wild, and they remain skeptical about him until he reveals that he is taking them to Rivendell, a haven full of elves, and more specifically the House of Elrond. This makes plenty of sense since Aragorn (Strider) was, as we learn later, raised in Rivendell and would know Elrond well enough to know he’d be wise in discerning what to do with the ring, whether or not Gandalf is present to give his input. Sam is excited by this news, since he has a love and fascination with the elves and desperately wants to meet them, which we saw in his somewhat romantic reaction to the wood elves earlier in the film.

The fellowship of five reaches a marshy landscape on their road through Eregion, and Strider notices the hobbits suddenly stop for food in one of the most beloved jokes in the trilogy as he argues with Pippin about breakfast and second breakfast. Then, after Strider walks away seemingly indifferent to their habits, he tosses over a pair of apples for Merry and Pippin, thus endearing him to the hobbits and becoming softer and more sympathetic as a character than his original, much sterner state. The company continues their hardship through the marshes as they are plagued by flies, and Strider shows his skill as a huntsman when he brings back a whole deer for everyone at the camp. Then, in a soft and quiet moment which serves multiple purposes, we see Strider singing softly to himself while the hobbits are sleeping. Frodo remains awake and overhears, and asks about the woman he’s singing of. Though Strider is reluctant at first, he shares a summary of the tale of Beren and Luthien, a mortal man and an elf maiden, who fell in love. Luthien gave up her immortality to be with Beren and paid the price. Obviously this story has special meaning to Aragorn, given his relationship with Arwen that is explored later, so this scene serves as an early setup for that, but it also strengthens his bond to Frodo. The hobbit shows an interest in Strider beyond his tough outer layer, seeing him as more than their begrudging protector in Gandalf’s stead. Strider tells Frodo to go back to sleep, and he continues to keep watch for the hobbits overnight.

At this point we are brought back to Isengard, and we can tell right away that Saruman is up to no good. Using the Palantir, Saruman is communicating with Sauron directly, pledging his allegiance to the dark lord. Sauron in turn commands the wizard to build him an army ‘worthy of Mordor’, and he sends orcs to begin to oversee the process. Together a troop of orcs begins tearing down the trees around Isengard, clearing the way for the pits and forges that will be constructed in their place. High at the peak of the tower, we finally learn that Gandalf is still alive, though badly hurt and without his staff. He hears the noise from down below and sees the carnage that Saruman is up to, and he watches helplessly as Isengard is transformed and he is left with no means to escape. The destruction of the forest is one that will have repercussions later on, but for now the situation with Gandalf appears rather hopeless.

Presently Strider brings the hobbits out of the marshes and to a place called Weathertop, which he refers to as the watch tower of Amon-Sul. It’s a sturdy enough fortress for the company to rest for the night, and once they have settled in Strider gives each of the hobbits a short sword to defend themselves, and he announces he’s going to have a look around the tower. This scene appears in place of the scene in the Barrow Downs where the hobbits obtained their swords in the book. Aside from Frodo, they will continue to carry these swords with them for the rest of their journey. That night, Frodo finds that his friends have lit a campfire to make sausages, tomatoes, and bacon for their supper, and he frantically runs to put it out. Unfortunately, he is too late, and the four are alerted to this realization when a Ringwraith scream sounds across the moors. They look down to see five black shapes advancing to the tower, so they all draw their swords and run up to the tower’s peak.

Once there the four hobbits stand in the center facing outward, hoping that Strider will come to their rescue. But from the darkness outside the pillars, only the Ringwraiths emerge, and they draw out their swords as they step into full view. They point with their blades as they close in on the hobbits. Then Sam, our boy Sam, who didn’t have the courage to talk to the girl he likes, is the first and only one of the hobbits to try and fight off these horrifying wraiths. They easily strike him down out of their way, however, and while Merry and Pippin stand for a moment, they too flee once the wraiths reach out to take them. With no one else by his side, Frodo drops his sword and falls away from the Nazgul, and he’s left with only one option in his mind: the ring.

The moment he draws the ring from his pocket, the leader of the Ringwraiths sees it in his hand, and he draws a second blade from his belt as he comes after Frodo. With the five Nazgul all around him, Frodo succumbs to the temptation of the ring and puts it on, only to make a horrid discovery. The black riders have all turned to pallid figures with tall crowns and flowing robes, and with the ring on his finger, Frodo has entered their world. Rather than become invisible to them like everyone else, he can be seen by them even better than before. The Nazgul leader, also known as the Witch-King, reaches for the ring while it remains on Frodo’s finger, and it seems to gravitate towards him, even against Frodo’s own wishes. When Frodo draws his hand away, the Witch-King recoils and then plunges his knife into Frodo’s shoulder. Frodo howls in pain, but before the Witch-King can seal his fate, we hear the voice of Strider as he leaps into the fray. The Witch-King pulls his knife from Frodo’s shoulder and the four other Ringwraiths spread apart as Strider battles them with a sword in one hand and a burning torch in the other.

While Strider fights the Nazgul off, Frodo removes the ring from his finger and continues to cry out in pain, and the other hobbits come directly to his side, beginning with Sam. Strider shows his skill as a swordsman, and the Ringwraiths are no match for him in his fury, each of them either set ablaze with the torch or forced off the tower’s peak until they are all gone. Once the battle is over, Strider rejoins the hobbits and examines Frodo. He sees that Frodo was stabbed with a Morgul blade, and it’s not in his power to heal him; they must get to Rivendell if Frodo is to survive. The company leaves Weathertop in a hurry, but Sam worries that Rivendell is too far, and they’ll never make it before Frodo dies. As Frodo moans in pain and calls out for Gandalf, like a child instinctively calling out for a protective parent, we also hear Strider muttering ‘Hold on, Frodo’, indicating that he’s come to care for the hobbit beyond just his importance to the quest.

We then return to Isengard, where we can see the handiwork of Saruman’s orcs. The area is completely cleared of trees, and caverns have been dug deep into the ground with scaffolding and other structures built up top. We see orcs patrolling the walls on the Ring of Isengard, and as the camera pans close to one of the chasms in the ground we can see many more of Saruman’s minions from a distance and hear the clamor of their work. We then take notice of a large moth that’s making its way to the top of the tower, where Gandalf sits alone in despair. As the moth flies near him, he snatches it out of the air and holds it close as he seems to recognize the creature. He speaks to it in a whispered voice, using some unknown tongue, and the moth appears to understand him. It listens for a moment before he allows it to fly away, and as we’ll learn later it’s the method by which Gandalf calls for help from the Great Eagles. The moth’s return is a motif which is repeated in the darkest hour of Return of the King, so this is a bit of soft exposition that serves both later in this film and much later in the story, one of many examples of subtle insertion that the writers use for their many payoffs in the final act of this story.

The camera then plunges from the top of the tower into the forges of Isengard. We see the work of his minions up close: the orcs are busy making weapons and armor for a large army, using the wood from the trees they pulled to fuel the fires. There are also some orcs raising a new breed from the mud pits, and Saruman himself has come down to see these creatures be born from his wizardry. The first of these creatures that he witnesses lashes out at the orcs pulling it from the mud and chokes one of them to death. While other orcs get tense and raise their weapons, Saruman holds them back and beholds his creation: the Uruk-hai. As fierce and battle-hungry as orcs, but larger and stronger, and as we learn later, unaffected by sunlight, unlike orcs. Saruman seems to regard this Uruk-hai as a potential leader for his army, and as the uruk growls and looks at himself, already it seems a formidable foe to our heroes. Many of us know this Uruk-hai to be named Lurtz, but this name is never used in the film, only in outside material, and his main role in the story is to be a sort of a final boss, a physical threat the Fellowship must face, as Saruman and Sauron remain unapproachable to our heroes for now. Other minions like Sharku, Gothmog, and the Witch-King will serve a similar purpose in later films.

Returning to our heroes, we are shown the stone figures of trolls overlooking Frodo and his friends, a reference to Bilbo’s adventures in The Hobbit when he and the dwarves were captured by trolls and Gandalf came to rescue them. This same story was mentioned during Bilbo’s party as he shared it with a group of hobbit children, and as it’s a story Bilbo likely told Frodo many times, Sam tries to use it to comfort the ailing ring-bearer. But it has little effect: Frodo’s face and eyes have gone pale, and he’s been making sickly, feverish noises due to this unnatural wound he’s sustained, and it seems he’s not even capable of speaking. Sam comments that he’s going cold, and Pippin wonders if he will die soon. Strider explains that he’s passing into the wraith world, and if he is not saved, he will become like the Ringwraiths. A wailing shriek from the Nazgul warns the company that they are still close after the encounter at Weathertop, so Strider instructs Sam to help him look for a special type of weed called Athelas, or Kingsfoil, which could help to slow the effect of the wound.

Strider is the first to find some, but before he can gather any he feels a blade against his neck, and for a moment appears to think that one of the Nazgul has got him, before hearing a woman’s voice chide him for being caught off-guard. It is here that we are introduced to Arwen, an elf ranger from Rivendell, who appears to the hobbits like an angel, full of grace and beauty. When Frodo sees her, it’s as though all his suffering melts away for the moment, and he can’t look away from her. She offers him some words of encouragement to stay in the light and resist the wraith world, then his ailment seems to return to him gradually. Arwen, together with Strider, tries to tend to the knife-wound with the athelas they found, even though the touch of the herb to the wound appears to feel to Frodo like another stab of pain. Meanwhile, Sam, Merry, and Pippin watch her in amazement, failing to understand as Arwen and Strider speak to each other in elvish. Arwen then volunteers to take Frodo the rest of the way to Rivendell, saying she’s the faster rider, and that she doesn’t fear the Ringwraiths. We can see in how they look at each other and speak to each other that the two have some history, and there’s a hint of romantic affection. Though reluctant at first, Strider lets her go, and Arwen goads her horse Asfaloth with an elvish charm as she rides off into the forest. Sam is outraged by this, knowing as well as Strider that the Nazgul will harry her the whole way to Rivendell, and probably upset that neither he nor the other hobbits had any say as to what would happen with Frodo. Strider has nothing to say in response, knowing he can only trust Arwen to do as she promised.

In this scene we see the first evidence that the role of Arwen has been greatly expanded from what it was in the book; she essentially takes over the role of Glorfindel in the book (who was also replaced by Legolas in the 1978 film; I guess Bakshi didn’t care much for Glorfindel either), and as the story progresses her relationship with Aragorn becomes the focal point of her character, as opposed to remaining a footnote in the appendices of Return of the King. I think the main reason for this change is fairly obvious: the Lord of the Rings books only really have two female characters with anything to do or say, those being Galadriel and Eowyn, so her greater role in the films serves both to give us an understanding as to why Aragorn loves her and to simply have more women in such a male-dominated story. I get that she’s not the most popular character for this reason, but I imagine the films would be noticeably lacking in women if she were absent, and it’d also be strange for Aragorn to suddenly marry her at the end of the story if we knew nothing about her. So I have no issue with this change, especially since Glorfindel didn’t factor into the story much beyond this scene in the book.

Arwen makes the ride through the woods and across the plains as she approaches the Ford of Rivendell with Frodo riding in her lap, and it’s not long before she can see the black riders are hot on her trail. One by one the Ringwraiths file in from the woods to chase after her. They get close enough once to try and reach out to Frodo, almost as though they mean to capture him rather than kill him. But Arwen proves to be a very skilled rider, quick as she said she would be, and she manages to evade the nine riders all the way to the river where she makes her defiant stand against them. One of the Nazgul calls out to her to give up the halfling (another term for hobbit), and she taunts them, drawing out her sword, saying that if they want him, they can come and get him. The Ringwraiths draw their swords as well and start to cross the ford, while Arwen mutters an elvish spell. As she does, the river appears to quicken at the horses’ hooves, and when she finishes, a high wall of water forms around the bend and starts to run the Ringwraiths down. The waves rise high enough to cover over them, and the water takes the shape of horses in a stampede. When it washes over them, all nine are swept up in the tide, and it is the last we see of the Ringwraiths in this film. Arwen managed to defeat them using some magic that thus far we’ve not seen used by anyone other than wizards, showing an example of the elves’ magical capabilities other than their immortality.

After the wraiths are gone, Frodo appears to be on his dying breath as he falls from Arwen’s horse. In great emotional distress she voices another spell, saying “What grace has given me, let it pass to him. Let him be spared. Save him.” It’s hard to know for certain what she means by this, but it sounds as if Arwen is willing to give up her life, or at least some of her life force, to preserve Frodo just a little while longer. It’s likely that she learned from her father Elrond certain healing methods which only the elves are capable of, but whatever the case it seems to be enough to hold Frodo over to the House of Elrond, which is where he wakes. He utters his first words since the moment the Witch-King stabbed him, asking where he is, and it is Gandalf’s voice that answers him.

Many Meetings/The Council of Elrond

Frodo finds himself safe and sound in a comfortable bed in Rivendell, and his friend Gandalf is sitting beside him smoking his pipe. Gandalf assures Frodo that he was very lucky to be alive; given a few more hours on the road he would’ve been beyond saving, but Frodo proved to be quite resilient. Gandalf says this proudly, echoing his earlier sentiment at hobbits’ continued ability to surprise him. As Frodo sits up in bed he feels the sting of the wound still in his shoulder, even if the effects of its poison have passed away. Then he remembers the Prancing Pony, and he asks Gandalf why he wasn’t there to meet them. To this Gandalf says he was delayed, pausing as though trying to choose his words carefully. He then remembers his last confrontation with Saruman, as the White Wizard continued throwing Gandalf about the top of the tower. During this Gandalf sees the moth return to him once again, signaling Gandalf’s means of escape is on the way. Saruman coerces Gandalf to embrace the ring’s power, or face destruction. Gandalf replies that there can only be one lord of the rings, and Sauron does not share his power, implying that Saruman will not get what he seeks out of his arrangement with Sauron. As he says this, he watches a great eagle approaching the tower, and so he leaps from the peak and the eagle catches him, bearing him far away. Saruman can do nothing to stop it, only saying that he believes Gandalf has chosen death. He does this with some bitterness, as though disappointed that his old friend will not remain on his side.

Gandalf returns to the present, his long silence bearing Frodo’s curiosity, but he doesn’t elaborate on it. Something which strikes me as a continuity error here is that Gandalf does not have his staff when he is taken from Isengard by the eagle; the last we saw it, Saruman took it from him during their fight in the Palantir chamber. Yet, in the Council of Elrond and the journey going forward, we see that Gandalf somehow has his staff back, and we get no explanation for how. It’s a bit of a nitpick but still legitimate. Anyway, Sam rushes happily into the room just then, glad to see Frodo returned to normal. Gandalf explains that Sam had hardly left Frodo’s side since he came to Rivendell, cluing the audience into how devoted to him Sam had become since leaving the Shire. Gandalf also declares that by Lord Elrond’s skills, Frodo is beginning to mend, and we meet Elrond at last. That is, it seems at first that this is our first time seeing him, but those with an eagle eye will recognize that Elrond was commanding and fighting in the battle during the film’s prologue, meaning that the elven lord is over 3000 years old. Here Elrond welcomes Frodo to Rivendell kindly, one of the few times we ever see Elrond smiling.

From here we are treated to a wide shot of the Rivendell valley, with high waterfalls, colorful trees, ornate architecture, leaf-covered terraces, and walls of mountains all around. It appears to be as safe and pleasant a sanctuary as our heroes deserve after what they came through to be here. Frodo and Sam take a walk through the gardens and take in eyefuls of the gorgeous scenery as golden sunlight shines down on them, and soon they are found by Merry and Pippin, both of whom are also overjoyed to see Frodo back to health. Then Frodo gets an unexpected reunion, as he looks ahead and finds his uncle Bilbo seated on a stone bench waiting for him. He runs up to embrace him, and we can see that Bilbo has suddenly grown much older since we last saw him. The ring no longer in his possession, Bilbo ages rapidly as its power to stretch out his life has passed to another. Though frail in body and voice, Bilbo seems much the same otherwise, and he shows Frodo his completed book: There and Back Again, a Hobbit’s Tale by Bilbo Baggins. As Frodo flips through it, Bilbo explains that he meant to go further than Rivendell, to revisit locations like Lake Town and the Lonely Mountain from past adventures, but once he made it to Rivendell he felt that age had caught up to him and he couldn’t go on.

Frodo sees maps of the Shire in Bilbo’s book, and it forces him to reflect on his journey to Rivendell. From his perspective now, his adventure has ended here, and he’ll soon return home. So he compares his story with that of Bilbo’s, recognizing that it’s quite different, that he and Bilbo are not the same. Perhaps it is here, in this moment, where Frodo first considers telling his own story one day, but the line “I’m not like you, Bilbo,” is very telling in that it reveals Frodo has no love of adventure the way that Bilbo has, that his experiences on the road have made him weary of it and ready to return to his old life. It’s quite foreboding, then, that this realization comes now, just before Frodo’s true journey is about to begin. But Bilbo is understanding of this fact, and he wants Frodo to know that he is dear to him all the same, resolving the character moment which had been left somewhat open-ended at the birthday party.

The sentiment of this scene carries over into the next as Frodo finds Sam packing his things for the journey home, and Frodo is surprised. Sam, after all, always wanted to see the elves, and now he’s already prepared to leave. But Sam reveals that he, like Frodo, is ready for this adventure to be done, and he figures that since the ring has been brought to Rivendell like Gandalf wanted (even though it was Aragorn’s idea to bring them to Rivendell; Gandalf only wanted them to meet him in Bree), their part of this story was over. Frodo agrees with this, saying the ring will be safe in Rivendell.

But Elrond has some words to say about that. He and Gandalf discuss that Frodo has been remarkably resilient in his quest to Rivendell, that it’s no mean feat to resist the ring for so long and come away from a Ringwraith blade with your life. Gandalf feels contrite that the ring should ever have come to Frodo, and that the wound from the knife will be one that Frodo carries forever, and that no more should be asked of him. Elrond turns the subject to their enemies, Sauron and more recently Saruman, and Gandalf explains that he knows Saruman is building an army in Isengard, an army unlike what’s been previously faced. Saruman will come for the ring, and his forces pose a more immediate threat than whatever comes from Mordor. Elrond declares that the elves cannot face this threat on their own, and that the ring indeed cannot stay in Rivendell.

The elven lord further explains that this change in Middle-Earth will affect all its peoples, and as he says this, we see more visitors arrive in Rivendell, representing three different races. Though they are not yet named, we see Legolas of the elves, coming from Mirkwood; we see Gimli of the dwarves, all the way from the Lonely Mountain of Erebor, and the proud Gondorian captain Boromir, a man. Elrond reminds Gandalf that the elves will soon be leaving Middle-Earth forever, and he asks who the new stewards of Middle-Earth will be when they are gone. Gandalf says that it will be men, to which Elrond shows his utter doubt. He says that the race of men has failed, the old bloodlines are gone, and that it is the fault of men that the ring was not destroyed 3000 years ago. Here we see a flashback to the prologue during the battle, showing Elrond as he was in that day, and thus reminding the audience in case they hadn’t recognized him. He saw Isildur claim the ring, and when he led him into Mount Doom, the one place it could be destroyed, Isildur would not do it. From that moment Elrond’s faith in men was broken, and to this day he seems to regard the entire race bitterly.

In response to this story, Gandalf reminds him that there is still one who can restore the honor of men, unite the remaining kingdoms, and reclaim the throne of Gondor, referring to Aragorn. But Elrond doubts this as well, knowing that Aragorn has no desire to become king, and that he has chosen exile instead. This is yet another departure from the books, the idea that Aragorn is irresolute about becoming king despite his birthright. In the book, Aragorn brought with him the sword of Elendil, the Shards of Narsil, to be reforged at Rivendell before the Fellowship began their quest, and once this was done his purpose in the journey was to bring the sword back to Gondor and claim his right to be king, and Boromir also shared in this goal. In the films, the Shards of Narsil are in Rivendell when he arrives, waiting to be reforged, but Aragorn is shown to have no desire to rise to the throne, and he joins the Fellowship out of a personal connection to Frodo and a desire to protect him. This may be perhaps because of his upbringing in the House of Elrond, believing the race of men, his own race, to be susceptible to failure, and that he will not live up to the legacy his forefathers built. It is only over the course of the journey, and his relationship with Boromir in particular, when that faith in men is restored, and he gradually accepts the calling of the crown. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves, and much of that ground is to be covered later.

For now, however, this plot point is explored further in the next scene. We meet Boromir as we find him admiring the painting depicting Isildur’s moment of triumph against the dark lord. He soon notices Strider seated in the same room, and he notices that Strider is a man like him rather than an elf, feeling a sense of kinship with him based on that alone. When Boromir asks who he is, however, Strider remains strangely aloof and only says that he is a friend of Gandalf’s, not wanting Boromir to know his true identity. Likely he believes Boromir would try to pressure him into returning to Gondor. But Boromir accepts this and presses him no further, instead simply calling him ‘friend’. Boromir then finds the shards of Narsil laid out on an altar, and as he examines them he cuts himself on the blade, noting how sharp it is even after all these years. This could imply a number of things: the enduring legacy of the Numenorean Kings, the sword still ready for use and waiting for its moment to face Sauron again, how the glorification of the past can fail to serve at the present, how Boromir is subject to the same failure as kings of old. But Boromir is dismissive and deflects by saying it’s no more than a broken handle, giving the first sign that he doesn’t believe Gondor needs a king anymore. He lets the hilt fall rather than placing it back on the altar, and after he leaves Strider steps forward to put the hilt back into place, showing his own reverence for the past, the way of kings, the calling he feels but remains reluctant to answer.

Once he does this, Strider steps back with an uneasy look on his face. Arwen appears behind him and asks why he still feels the burden of Isildur’s decisions. She believes Strider can form his own destiny, but he feels that the bloodline he carries shares the same weakness as Isildur. If ever he were to face the ring, he might make the same mistakes. From this exchange we as the audience can feel certain that Strider is not simply a ranger wandering in the north. As the heir of Isildur he could become one of the most important rulers in Middle-Earth, but only if he accepts the calling. It is clear that Arwen wants this for him, as she continues to encourage him to face this challenge, thus showing strength in her character that she believes in men despite that her father Elrond does not. She says that one day he will face the same evil that Isildur did, and he will overcome where Isildur failed.

The two move on from there to an isolated bridge elsewhere in Rivendell, and the tone shifts to become quite romantic. The implied affection that we saw before in Strider and Arwen’s first interaction is now shown in full; the two are lifelong lovers, but now they’ve come to a moment of crisis. With the elves leaving Middle-Earth, Arwen is bound to leave with them, but she desires to stay, bind herself with Aragorn, and forsake the immortal life, echoing the story of Beren and Luthien that Aragorn shared with Frodo before. Aragorn tries to discourage her from this decision, but she is adamant in her conviction, and to seal her commitment she bestows on him the Evenstar, a pendant which is sacred to her people and symbolizes her love, saying it is hers alone to give. They share a kiss, and it seems the matter is closed, but let’s just wait till Elrond hears about it.

Speaking of Elrond, we arrive next at one of the most pivotal scenes in the whole trilogy: the Council of Elrond. Here the elven lord has gathered many elves, dwarves, and men from across Middle-Earth, along with Gandalf and Frodo, to come to a decision about what will be done with the One Ring. Elrond claims that Middle-Earth is on the brink of destruction, and whatever happens will affect all people in it. He then tells Frodo to present the ring, and so Frodo steps forward and places the ring on the altar at the center of the council yard. It is the first time Frodo has given up the ring since he placed it in his pocket before leaving Bag End, and we can see as he sits back down that it must be like a heavy weight off his shoulders; the burden is no longer his to bear. Various characters look at the ring on the pedestal, each of them likely feeling the temptation of it reaching out to them. Boromir is the first to speak aloud, and he tells the others about a dream he had which he believes symbolizes the return of Isildur’s Bane (The One Ring) and how it will bring about the restoration of Gondor against Sauron’s darkness. He tries to reach for the ring, but both Elrond and Gandalf act to stop him. Gandalf uses the black speech of Mordor, the language he refused to utter before Frodo in the Shire, and as he speaks the sky darkens and there is a roll of thunder, and we hear a menacing voice seemingly responding to him, possibly from the ring. This distresses Elrond, and he scolds Gandalf for using that language in Rivendell, but Gandalf reasons that he uses it to illustrate that the ring is altogether evil, and cannot be used for good.

Boromir persists against this notion, claiming the ring is a gift from the foes of Mordor. He proclaims that Gondor has borne the brunt of Mordor’s wrath for many years as Sauron’s power has grown, and because of this he feels that Gondor is entitled to use the enemy’s greatest weapon against him: “By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe”. To this Strider responds that the One Ring answers only to Sauron, and cannot be used against him, but Boromir tries to dismiss him as nothing more than a ranger, knowing nothing of the ring or the wars of men. It is then that Strider’s true identity is revealed for all present: Legolas stands to defend him, saying that Strider is in fact Aragorn, the heir of Isildur, and Boromir owes his allegiance to him. Boromir seems shocked by this revelation, and Frodo as well seems to look at him in a new light. Despite his reaction, however, Boromir proudly declares that Gondor has no king, and it needs none. As he sits back down, he continues to stare at Aragorn, perhaps considering how this new information sits with him.

Gandalf agrees with Aragorn that the ring cannot be used, and Elrond puts forward what has been his belief all along: the ring must be destroyed. Only then will Sauron be vanquished forever. This causes some distress among the gathered council, but Gimli the dwarf is quick to act. He takes up an axe and tries to bring it down on the ring, only for his strike to be deflected and his weapon to be shattered to pieces. The ring remains untouched, but the moment Gimli landed the strike Frodo felt a shudder, and some dread or pain appears to return to him, warranting Gandalf’s concern. The ring still has not let go of him, even if he has let go of the ring. Elrond then clarifies that the ring can only be destroyed where it was made: in the fires of Mount Doom, all the way in Mordor. He then states that one of those presently gathered must be the one to do this task.

There is a moment of silence; no one wants to volunteer. Boromir explains, in a highly memed moment, that Mordor is a very inhospitable place, and making a journey there would be essentially a suicide mission. But Legolas stands by Elrond’s resolution, and Gimli argues against him, questioning whether Legolas could do this thing himself. Perhaps as a dwarf who’s lived much of his life in the mountains, Gimli sees himself better suited to the job than an elf, but anyway he lets slip that he hopes never to see the ring pass to an elf. This begins a storm of argument, during which Gimli cries “Never trust an elf!”, revealing a certain enmity between the two races that will be important to his and Legolas’ development as characters. Gandalf also mentions Saruman to Boromir, a threat which the Gondorian likely hasn’t accounted for in his plans to use the ring. The council descends to chaos, emblematic of the ring’s influence on all the different people, and Elrond can do nothing to restore order.

In the midst of all this, Frodo has remained quiet, scarcely taking his eyes off the ring. As the argument builds, he hears the same dreaded voice from the ring, perhaps taunting him, poking and prying at him to continue his role as its bearer, questioning his resolve and his ability to resist it. Just when he thought he was free of it and ready to go home, he realizes that he may be the only one capable of resisting the ring for the duration of such a quest. With a face full of conviction, he stands and proclaims multiple times that he will be the one to take the ring to Mordor, though he knows not the way. All eyes turn to him and all voices are silenced. We see in Gimli’s eyes, Aragorn’s eyes, Elrond’s eyes, and Gandalf’s eyes how much Frodo had grown to all of them in that moment. Gandalf is the first to volunteer as Frodo’s companion, as long the burden is his to bear. He still sees himself as responsible for the burden falling to Frodo in the first place, and believes that Frodo should’ve had to do nothing more than bring the ring this far. Aragorn offers his vow next, saying he will protect Frodo with his life. Legolas and Gimli then add themselves to the count, pledging their bow and axe respectively. The two regard each other like rivals, and Gimli looks up at Legolas as though proving the worth of his people with this action. Then Boromir steps forward, admiring Frodo’s courage despite his stature, and agrees to take part in the mission for the sake of Gondor.

Sam then suddenly appears on the scene, saying Frodo won’t be heading anywhere without him. Elrond makes a jab at Sam’s expense, only to be undercut by a mischievous pair of hobbits. Merry and Pippin tag along, seeming to not fully comprehend what they’ve signed on for. Elrond beholds the whole company with a look of pride, and he declares the nine companions to be the Fellowship of the Ring. We see them in all their different races and sizes, united for a common cause to save Middle-Earth, and we’re excited to see where they go from here. That is the end of Part 1.

We’ve covered roughly an hour and forty-five minutes’ worth of screentime to reach the halfway point of the first film, surpassing the full runtime of many feature length films. Despite the great length of these films, however, one thing that can be noticed while watching them is how efficient they are with their time. There are no wasted scenes, and the ones that are drawn out tend to be used for their immersion into this world or for letting the characters grow and communicate with the audience nonverbally. The writing team of Philippa Boyen, Fran Walsh, and Peter Jackson worked tirelessly on this production to make sure that the audience had everything they needed to understand about this world and characters for the story to work, without rushing to get to the action or glossing over areas of exposition. They also worked to make sure that the vast majority of scenes in these films serve multiple purposes at once. There are many scenes which serve as a combination of either world-building, character development, exposition, and or plot progression, and thus even when the pace slows, we never reach a static point for the story. You can also notice that scenes are tied one to the next thematically, rather than there being hard cuts to keep the story moving. This was accomplished due to the fact that the script for Lord of the Rings was being constantly edited and revised, even during production and filming, to iron out issues and add more depth. If it meant reshooting scenes to get what they wanted, they were willing to do it.

By this point in the story, we’ve witnessed a lot of growth from our main characters, and it’s been handled little by little in small scenes and motifs which really let the emotional stakes creep up on us. The writers are quick to establish characters, their thoughts and the things they care about, as we meet them. We get to see them encounter various obstacles and hardships and look after each other, we see them face difficult decisions and accept responsibility as it’s thrust upon them, and we grow to care about them and fear for them as a result. This becomes increasingly difficult to balance the more characters that are introduced, and the more elements that are brought into the story. If some characters seem to be more simplified versions of what they were in the books, and certain events were streamlined or cut out entirely to facilitate a consistent pace of the films, then I’d still argue the writers did an excellent job maintaining the tone of the novels and the essence of its characters, these sacrifices notwithstanding. It’s able to balance moments of action, terror, levity, urgency, complacency, and large-scale adventure without ever leaning too hard in any direction, and it maintains a rather light magic system to keep the story grounded and believable without needing to be explained ad nauseum.

We will continue to explore these facets of adaptation and many other writing choices as this series goes on. Part 2 will of course go over the second half of Fellowship of the Ring, which is more action-heavy than the first and also introduces lots of new locations, and then we will continue to see how these story threads continue to weave into the remaining films and how the ripples of the events here have unforeseen effects later on. I look forward to finding what can be uncovered in this treasure trove of films.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) – A retrospective analysis and review, Part 1

Introduction

            Hello again, and welcome back to my retrospective reviews of The Lord of the Rings film trilogy! Before reading this, I hope my readers will have previously gone through my review of Fellowship of the Ring, both parts, because there will be quite a bit of context that those reviews provide going forward for this review and the ones to come. This time, of course, we will be covering the second film, The Two Towers, originally released in theaters in December 2002, and we’ll be covering the first half of the film in part 1 of this review. I’ll be expecting my readers to have watched the films before reading these reviews, because I will be going through every part of the film from the top and doing my best to analyze the text and shed some light, as it were, on aspects of the writing which may have gone overlooked. It will be quite the long review, split up into two parts, and I will of course be referring only to the extended version of the film, since the theatrical cuts, while functional films, did leave some important story moments out or significantly shortened them.

The Two Towers was, back in 2002, as successful if not more so than its predecessor, continuing its story with surehanded pacing and direction and introducing new characters and locations as the journey of the remaining companions carried on. The trilogy had already gained a massive fanbase from the first film who were eager to see it play out, but it also earned its detractors, mostly Tolkien purists who were unhappy with changes from the books, though it’s likely lots of Harry Potter fans weren’t too thrilled that another huge fantasy story was hitting theaters around the same time and stealing their thunder. Nowadays, with the trilogy complete and its extended editions available, I think most people would actually pick The Two Towers to be their least favorite of the three, myself included. While it does contain one of the most incredibly realized battle sequences on film, the pacing does dip quite a bit in the middle to focus on the Arwen-Aragorn romance, and the film has to work against the stigma of the dark middle chapter that lacks a truly conclusive finale and picks up with many of its characters predeveloped from the first film. But, what about the writing? How well does The Two Towers hold up, 20 years later? Well, that’s what I’m here to find out. So let’s go on an adventure together!

Prologue – Foundations of Stone

            The film opens with the dramatic central theme of music introducing us to images of the Misty Mountains, and as the camera pans over them, we slowly begin to hear the confrontation between Gandalf and the Balrog in Moria from the previous film. As Peter Jackson has made a habit of doing with his Middle-Earth saga (The Hobbit films followed this tradition), The Two Towers begins with a flashback where Fellowship started on lore and world-building to establish the rings of power. In this case, it’s a bit of déjà vu; once we enter the mountain that contains Moria, we see the final moments of the fight as Gandalf proclaims the Balrog shall not pass, and uses his staff to break the Bridge of Khazad-Dum, leaving the Balrog to fall to the depths before him. The Balrog’s whip takes the wizard down to the ledge, leaving his staff and sword to fall, and we as the audience relive the dramatic moment where Gandalf commands his Fellowship to go on without him, before letting himself fall. In this version, however, Frodo begins shouting “No!” before Gandalf has let go, whereas in the previous film he screams afterwards to let the wave of emotion hit the audience in the gulf thereafter. This is actually a clue that what we’re seeing is not just a memory; it is, as we’ll soon learn, Frodo’s dream, though according to Gandalf’s account in the book the forthcoming fight happened much the same as we see.

Gandalf falls from the broken bridge, and this time the camera follows him down, plunging far below the mountain as we reach unfathomable depths of the earth. Soon Gandalf has caught up with his sword Glamdring (unnamed in the films, though The Hobbit movies do the job of naming it), and somehow he’s also managed to catch up to the flaming demon he has just done battle with. One would think the Balrog, being much larger, would be much heavier than Gandalf and thus have fallen too far for him to catch up, since Gandalf lingered on the bridge a short while after the whip took him. Perhaps, since the Balrog has wings, it managed to suspend itself for a time or even tried to make an effort in the limited space to fly back up, but the film makes it unclear just how effective its wings are. In any case, Gandalf positions himself to fall like a dart until he reaches the Balrog again, and he begins hacking at him with his reclaimed sword.

The Balrog fights him back with its fists and wings beating back at Gandalf, but the wizard, apparently unfazed by the flames, courageously fights on against this demon as he expects to die regardless. Their struggle goes on for some time, until at last they reach some underground lake in the foundations of the earth. When they hit the water, we do not see what happens next, since we are then brought back to our story’s protagonist Frodo Baggins, who suddenly wakes from his dream crying Gandalf’s name. Sam is also there and is startled by Frodo’s sudden exclamation, and he asks what’s wrong. Frodo does not divulge his vision, instead saying it was just a dream, thus shedding uncertainty as to whether what we just saw truly happened or not. Frodo is still haunted by this moment, and likely at this point in his journey, separated from most of his Fellowship, is wishing Gandalf were still here to guide him.

As the title of this film appears onscreen, we see that Frodo and Sam are still making their way through the ‘impossible labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks’ that is Emyn Muil, essentially picking up immediately from where we last saw them in Fellowship. There is a dense fog on the land, making their passage more difficult, and they’ve been forced to descend from a high point using the rope Sam obtained in Lothlorien. The area below is obscured by fog, so Frodo tells Sam not to look down and to just keep climbing. Sam then stumbles on the rock, letting some item fall from his pack, which he desperately bids Frodo catch. Frodo manages to grab the item, but in doing so loses his grip and starts to fall. Frodo only falls for a brief moment, however, since he lands on the ground just a few feet below him, and the fog starts to clear the moment he is safe. Seeing this, Sam climbs down the rest of the way to join him, grumbling about how unnatural this place is.

Presently Frodo takes a better look at the item Sam was so attached to, and he asks about it as he opens up the small box. Sam says it’s just some seasoning, in case they should have a roast chicken or some other hearty meal. Frodo is amused by the idea, but Sam claims that his seasoning is very special, since it’s ‘the best salt in all the Shire’. To this Frodo becomes sentimental and agrees that it’s special, a ‘little bit of home’ they can continue to carry with them in such an unfamiliar place. Turning his attention back to the rope, Frodo says they need to take it so that it can’t be used to follow them, but Sam doesn’t think anyone would be following them in such a place. Evidently Sam isn’t aware that Gollum has been on their trail since Moria, or else doesn’t think he’d come this far after them, but Frodo won’t forget. In any case Sam thinks the rope is as good as lost, since his knots don’t come undone, and it’s a shame because it’s such a valuable gift from none other than Lady Galadriel. In a comedic moment, he tugs at the rope just a few times and the knot quickly comes undone up on the rock, and the entire rope falls at their feet. They stand astounded for a moment, then Frodo says that it must be that the rope is elvish and has some of their magic to come undone so easily, though his smile implies a bit of a jab at Sam. There isn’t much character work going on in this scene, but the two get a chance to bond and show us how they’re getting on now that they’re on their own, and it’s a good way to get us reacquainted with them in the second film, balancing drama with comedy.

Next Frodo and Sam are seen reaching another high point in the rocks, where again they can get a glimpse at Mordor ahead of them. Sam remarks at the grim irony that the one place they’re going is the one place they’d rather never see. He then implores Frodo to face the fact that the two are lost, without a guide and far from any people who could aid them. He supposes that Gandalf likely intended for them to go another way to Mordor, but Frodo speaks up to say that many of the things Gandalf intended didn’t happen, and other things did happen that he wasn’t prepared for, likely referring to the whole misadventure in Moria. In any case it’s no use brooding on what Gandalf wanted; they have to go their own way now. As Frodo gazes towards Mordor, he sees a vision of the Eye of Sauron for a brief moment, and he’s reminded of his great burden. Sam is troubled for a moment, then recognizes that it’s the ring which is bothering Frodo, and Frodo says that the ring is ‘getting heavier’ as they get closer to Mordor. He could very well mean that it physically weighs more than it did, but the larger implication that the burden is getting more difficult to bear this far into their journey applies as well, I think. The ring is a physical strain to him, as well as a mental one, the constant temptation which he must ever remain resilient to.

Frodo needs a moment to rest, so he and Sam settle to drink some water and have a bite to eat. When Frodo asks about their rations, Sam shows him the lembas that the elves of Lorien gave to them, and he gives a piece to Frodo. A single bite, as we should recall, is all it takes to keep them full, so with the amount they have, they should be set for a while. Sam remarks that he doesn’t usually go for food from outside the Shire, but he’s taken a liking to elvish food. Frodo feels his spirits lifting again from Sam’s pleasantries, saying he doesn’t think anything can dampen Sam’s mood. It’s a bit of an echo of their last scene together in Fellowship, with Frodo showing how glad he is to have a companion in such a dreadful quest.

The Taming of Smeagol

            The scene ends when Sam notices rain clouds approaching, saying they might could dampen his spirits. The next we see is both hobbits huddled against a cliff as the rain pours down on them, waiting for the rain to pass before pressing on. As they stand there, we cut to a shot above them from the top of a cliff, and we hear the breaths of some creature as a pale, bony hand clutches the surface of the rocks. We’re reminded, if earlier hints weren’t enough, that Gollum is still following Frodo, and now that the hobbits are alone, he’s closing in. Frodo looks up to the top of the cliff, believing he’s seen something, but from the following shot there’s nothing to suggest that anyone, or anything, is up there. Gollum remains sneaky and elusive, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The two hobbits press on through the fog the following day, the sameness of their surroundings starting to become confusing to them. They soon realize that they’ve been going in circles; they could be hopelessly lost in Emyn Muil, without a guide. Sam then notices a horrid stench from somewhere nearby, thinking it could be a nasty bog. Unbeknownst to him, of course, the Dead Marshes are not far away, and already he can smell them. Frodo, however, considers a second possible source of the stench, and he warns Sam that they are not alone. The following night, the two hobbits are shown sleeping, or pretending to sleep, at the foot of a cliff while their follower begins to descend. Gollum appears at the top of the cliff, with ominous moonlight beaming down on him, and he hisses angrily to himself about the thieves who stole his precious from him. After all these years, he still hates Baggins for stealing the ring, though how exactly he knows that Frodo is a relative to Bilbo is a bit of a mystery.

Gollum creeps closer and closer, seething at this opportunity to reclaim the ring, but just as he reaches for it, Frodo and Sam suddenly stir and grab hold of him, dragging him down off the rocks. This shows a bit of ingenuity in the two hobbits, using themselves as bait to lure Gollum down rather than being unprepared for the moment he’d strike. The three begin a struggle, as Gollum is vicious and stronger than he looks. When he sees the ring hanging on Frodo’s necklace, he goes mad with the desire and tries to claw his way to it. Sam remains Frodo’s protector, battling Gollum in any way he can without drawing his sword; apparently their plan all along was to capture Gollum rather than kill him. But Gollum knocks Sam away and bites him in his shoulder at one moment, and when it seems that Sam will remain persistent Gollum tries to choke him out. To this, Frodo resorts to drawing out his sword, Sting, and holding it at Gollum’s throat.

Finally Gollum goes still, and Frodo sees that Gollum recognizes the sword, the same sword his uncle used to threaten the creature long ago. Frodo does the same, demanding that Gollum release Sam, and the creature complies, letting out a long cry as he knows he’s been beaten again. Sam uses the elven rope again to put Gollum on a leash, and the two hobbits continue their journey with their captive. However, Gollum does not go quietly; throughout their march he makes awful noise and his howls echo throughout the rocky environment. He cannot stop wailing about how the rope ‘burns and freezes’ him, showing how much Gollum has grown to detest the elves and all their makings as he says “Nasty elves twisted it”. When pleads for them to remove the rope, Sam tries to tell him to be quiet, which makes Gollum only cry louder. To this the hobbits recognize they can’t go on with him behaving like this, as it will certainly draw enemies to them, so they must either tie him up and let him die, or let him go free. Sam has no pity for Gollum, saying that death is no more than he deserves.

Frodo, however, had an important conversation with Gandalf in Moria about this very subject. Now that he sees Gollum, he understands how his uncle pitied him long ago, and he sees for himself the suffering this poor creature has gone through to become like he is. Being a ring-bearer himself, he can empathize with how easily the ring’s power can seduce and destroy someone, and he no longer sees Gollum as a creature that’s been hunting him. As Gandalf warned him, he is not as quick as Sam to deal out what Gollum ‘deserves’. When Gollum hears that Frodo might have some pity, he tries to strike a deal; he swears to do what they want if they remove the rope. When Frodo claims that he cannot trust him, Gollum uses the ring, or ‘the precious’ as what he will swear on to keep his word. Frodo understands the ring has a will of its own and it is treacherous, so making such a promise is a hard thing to do. But Gollum is firm that that is his promise, and he gets closer to Frodo and looks into his eyes to try to appear as honest and innocent as he can.

Sam isn’t buying it. He tries to drive Gollum off and then he yanks him down from a stone to punish him, a move which seems harsh even to us as the audience as Gollum chokes and struggles to get back up. But Sam defends his stance, believing that Gollum is a trickster, and letting him go will only give him another chance to try and reclaim the ring. Frodo can hardly argue with this, but he does see an opportunity with Gollum. He approaches Gollum, and he asks if Gollum knows the way to Mordor, remembering that Gollum has been there at least once before. Gollum says he does, so Frodo uses Gollum’s promise to command him to take them to Mordor, to the black gate, and to show his trust he removes the rope from Gollum’s neck. Sam’s look reveals that he does not approve of this decision, but he keeps it to himself for now.

Almost at once Gollum is running well ahead of the two hobbits, and it’s unclear to them if he’s leading them out of Emyn Muil or trying to escape. This begins the first instance we see of Gollum’s split personalities as he argues with himself over whether to comply with this command. The better part of him wants to keep his word, but the other part fears going back to Mordor, remembering the ash, thirst, pits, and “orcses, thousands of orcses”, and most of all the Great Eye, always watching wherever you go. For a moment this part gains the upper hand, and Gollum attempts to flee with the two hobbits watching. They chase after him briefly, but soon lose him in the rocky paths. Sam feels vindicated for a moment, since he predicted Gollum would prove false, but then Gollum reappears and tells the hobbits to follow him. Frodo hurries ahead, but Sam grouses for a moment as he still doesn’t trust Gollum to keep his word. It’s tenuous, as we understand it, anyway: Gollum’s inner dialogue and his obsession with the ring keeps every action he takes rather dubious for us, and for now there’s no way of knowing if he’ll be a helpful guide or a treacherous deceiver.

It’s unrelated to writing, but I would like to take a moment to appreciate Gollum’s presentation in these films, as this is the first sequence that the audience will see how he’s going to be portrayed. The decision to do a fully CGI motion capture performance was very risky, since this is the technology that can make or break a character’s believability and it’s the one thing that will date a movie the most. Originally Andy Serkis was only brought in to give the director an idea of how the character could be captured, but his performance turned out so well that they demanded he play the character throughout the trilogy. Though this technology had already been done with Ahmed Best as Jar Jar Binks in Star Wars, Serkis’ performance as Gollum essentially defined a whole new category of acting in film, one that’s been adapted for countless films since The Lord of the Rings, including Peter Jackson’s King Kong and the recent Planet of the Apes trilogy, both of which also starred Serkis. We can see in this scene the nuances and eccentricities that a combination of digital effects and motion capture can bring, with incredible attention to detail in Gollum’s facial expressions. His movements are as quick and fluid as any of the other characters, without any grain or gloss to give him away or make him stand out. Watching this movie in 2022, you can tell in places that Gollum is not 100% congruent with the environment around him, but it’s very close and he’s strikingly realistic in most every shot. The same goes for creatures like the trolls, the fell beasts, the mumakil, and the ents, but Gollum is such an important character to this story that getting his look right was crucial, and it’s kind of miraculous that he turned out as well as he did.

The Uruk-Hai

            Before we move on, it becomes important here to recognize one specific challenge the writers had in adapting both The Two Towers and its sequel The Return of the King. Unlike The Fellowship of the Ring book, which followed a singular story thread from its opening chapter to its last, the other two books are split up into parts. The first half follows the journey of the characters Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, and Gandalf, while the other half continues the quest of Frodo and Sam, eventually converging with the other characters in Return of the King. In order to tell the story in a cinematic medium with the same steady forward movement as Fellowship, the writers had to splice these chapters all together in a timeline that not only makes sense, but also keeps it so that you’re not dwelling too long on certain characters and neglecting others. It seems that the moment you start to wonder, ‘what’s going on with Frodo and Sam?’, the film cuts back to their journey, and then when you wonder about Merry and Pippin, or the three companions chasing them, the film brings you back to fill you in. It’s a tricky balancing act, and to do it there were a few sequences that were cut and others that were put in other films. Boromir’s death happens at the end of Fellowship, whereas the confrontation with Saruman and Shelob’s Lair were pushed to Return of the King, though all three of those events were in The Two Towers book.

Anyway, we return then to the next plot thread picked up from Fellowship: Merry and Pippin as captives of the Uruk-hai. The raiding party sent by Saruman is making its way back to Isengard, cutting through the land of Rohan to get there. The two hobbits are still alive, riding piggyback style on two uruks, but Merry looks hurt and is unresponsive when Pippin tries to get his attention. Presently the company is brought to a halt as one of the uruks in the front raises his fist. A band of orcs emerges out of hiding from the rocks, and their leader addresses the Uruk-hai in command. Though they are all unnamed in the film, those of us who collected Lord of the Rings trading cards will know that the orc leader is named Grishnakh, while the uruks are led by Ugluk and Mauhur, now that Lurtz has been killed. These three names are taken from the book, so it’s a neat bit of trivia for readers. Grishnakh seems to know about Saruman’s plans to claim the hobbits, as he demands that they be given over to him rather than taken to Isengard. Ugluk replies by saying that he takes orders from Saruman, not from ‘Mordor rats’, implying that the orcs come from Mordor rather than the minions working at Isengard. He is firm that the hobbits will be delivered to Saruman, which doesn’t sit well with Grishnakh, but the orcs seem fearful to oppose the stronger Uruk-hai for the moment.

Pippin continues trying to rouse his friend, but Merry remains still, his forehead bleeding. Desperate to help, Pippin turns to one of the nearby Uruk-hai and pleads that Merry be given some water, since it appears he is sick. Ugluk overhears this and commands that Merry be given ‘medicine’, and so the party turns raucous as laughing Uruk-hai force some vile liquid down Merry’s throat. The hobbit begins coughing and choking, and Pippin begs them to stop. Ugluk then approaches him and threatens to do the same to him unless he remains quiet. When he walks away, Merry finally wakes and greets Pippin; apparently he’s doing just fine despite all this. Pippin is bewildered, but Merry explains it was all an act, a way to keep his head down so that no further torment comes down on him or Pippin. He tells Pippin not to worry about him, then resumes his act, showing there’s still some spark left in this hobbit in spite of all that’s happened to them.

Mauhur then begins to smell man-flesh, warning him and the others that they are being followed. Overhearing this, Pippin is filled with hope, believing that Aragorn and the others haven’t given up on him and Merry. Ugluk commands the party to continue moving, and as they do the Mordor orcs join with them as they pick up the pace toward Isengard. Pippin, perhaps inspired by Merry’s actions, decides to take action himself in order to aid his trackers. He uses his teeth to pull off the leaf brooch on his elven cloak and spits it onto the ground, believing that anyone who comes this way might see it and know the hobbits were brought through here, and still live. Only the eight companions who left Lothlorien together wear these cloaks, as far as we know, so Aragorn wouldn’t mistake it for anyone else.

We then find Aragorn with his ear to the ground, hearing the distant beating of a crowd rushing over the plains, and with his attuned ranger training he recognizes that the enemy has quickened their pace, alerting him to the fact that the Uruk-hai are now aware of him and his companions. He tells the others to hurry, and as he rushes onward we can see that Legolas is having no trouble keeping up, but Gimli lags behind. The dwarf, like all of his kind, is unaccustomed to running great distances, and he groans about how little food and rest he’s gotten since they left Amon Hen. The three companions are then shown traveling far and wide across rocky plains and along cliffs overlooking the Anduin River to the east. At length they pause when Aragorn finds the brooch that Pippin left, and he and Legolas come to the conclusion that the hobbit had intended, deducing that the Uruk-hai are less than a day ahead. Gimli rolls down the hill behind them, having stumbled or perhaps attempting to keep up this way. It’s a humorous moment, and indeed Gimli has many more like this throughout the movie in which he is used for comic relief, thankfully with no detriment to his character. Legolas tells him that they are gaining on the Uruk-hai, and Gimli responds that he’s wasted running cross country, that dwarves are sprinters by nature and are much more effective over short distances.

He soon gets a moment to breathe when the three reach a vantage point over the next rocky hilltop. From here, Aragorn recognizes the land of Rohan, home of the Horse-Lords. It’s a place briefly mentioned in Fellowship, and the majority of this film’s plot, with these characters at least, takes place within its borders. In the book Rohan was described as being almost entirely flat grasslands, but I imagine the limitations of filming entirely on location in New Zealand forced Jackson and co. to work with what they had available. Anyhow, Aragorn begins to sense that things are awry in Rohan, that some strange power is at work giving speed to the enemy, and Rohan’s people may be under its influence. As Legolas presses forward, his far-seeing eyes can locate the trail that the Uruk-hai are taking, which appears to be bending northeast, towards Isengard. From this, Aragorn knows that they have Saruman to reckon with now, forcing him to question what the White Wizard would want with the hobbits.

As we, the audience, begin to question what Saruman is up to now, we are brought to Isengard at the very moment the wizard is using his Palantir again to communicate with Sauron, the dark lord. It’s our first moment to give focus to the villains of the story in this movie; as Saruman speaks of the combined strength he and Sauron possess to conquer Middle-Earth, the camera pans up the Tower of Barad-Dur. It’s a slightly updated version from the one we saw briefly in Fellowship: while they appear the same at the base with the bridges and towers standing over rivers of lava, the tower itself in this film is more of a sharp pillar like Isengard, and when we reach the top, we can see the Eye of Sauron splayed between two sharp prongs. From here at the peak of his fortress, Sauron looks out onto all Middle-Earth, and this somewhat ovular, spectral image of his eye seems to serve as the visage for our true antagonist throughout this film and the next. Saruman describes his alliance with Sauron as the ‘union of the Two Towers’, thus giving the movie its own spin on the title which has been debated since the book’s publication.

Returning to Isengard, we can see that the minions working in Saruman’s pits have been busy, never ceasing in the work they began in the previous film. They are still working the mud pits and forges, still felling trees and still digging deeper into the earth. Saruman is continuing to raise an army, though for what purpose we do not yet know. He declares, as he continues his narration while addressing Sauron, that the world is changing; the old world will burn, the forests will be cut down and fed into the fires of industry, to make way for the ‘iron fist of the orc’. It’s our first glimpse at one of this film’s major themes, the destruction of nature for the means of industry, and Saruman, like Sauron, is thoughtless in spoiling the land to serve his own designs. To drive this point home, we see as Saruman commands one of his orc wardens to arm his troops in two weeks. The orc says that they don’t have the resources to keep the forges burning for this task, which is a hint that the army Saruman is raising must be quite large. Saruman turns his eyes on Fangorn Forest, right along his borders. He commands that the forest be burned, an act which will have major repercussions in the future.

Next we see a man standing before Saruman in his Palantir chamber, dirty and bearded and wearing torn clothes. He claims that his folk will fight for Saruman, and he swears it by taking a knife to the palm of his hand and letting his discolored blood flow. He promises that his people will die for Saruman if need be, thus showing an unwavering loyalty to him which begs the question as to how Saruman achieved it. The man (named Freca by the trading cards) is one of the Dunlendings, and in the next scene we see a large crowd of them gathered around Saruman at night, holding torches and crude weapons. Saruman then answers the question which has been previously posed: he reveals that these wild men had their land taken from them by the ‘horsemen’, referring to the men of Rohan, who drove them into the hills of Dunland. He is thus giving them the opportunity to reclaim their lands by bringing war to Rohan, and as we will see he is supporting their raids by sending Uruk-hai as well. He sends them off, and the Dunlendings hasten onwards with a lust for blood.

The Burning of Westfold

            It is here that Saruman’s plans for this film are made clear: in service to Sauron’s goals, he will make war on Rohan, removing them as potential opposition to Sauron in the future, and thus allowing Sauron to focus all his attention on the men of Gondor. Saruman likely believes, at this point, that the Fellowship sent from Rivendell has failed and been slaughtered by his Uruk-hai, and the ring will soon be brought to him, so this threat to Sauron will already be dealt with. The War of the Ring can now begin, and Sauron’s conquest can get a head start.

It is at this point that it’s a good idea for the writers to get the audience acquainted with the people of Rohan, so we can see what’s at stake. We are taken to one of the villages in the Westfold, where the peasants are fleeing from the coming onslaught of Dunlendings, orcs, and Uruk-hai. Likely at this point Saruman has already begun the pillage of Rohan, so the villagers are aware of the threat to the point that they hastily leave at the first sign of approaching armies. We see a family of villagers preparing to leave, with the mother sending her son and daughter on horseback to the city of Edoras, where they can warn the king and ‘raise the alarm’, perhaps to call other villagers away from their doom and to send soldiers to protect what’s left. As she is giving them instructions, other peasants react to a vast army coming over the hill towards the village, thus manifesting the gravity of the threat and how short they are on time. The mother has opted to stay behind, saying that her children have a better chance and will go faster with just two riding, but while the son is brave, the daughter starts crying and doesn’t want to leave. To make their passing easier, the mother promises that she’ll meet them at Edoras. It’s enough to give them the strength to go on, but it reads like the mother’s only saying it so that they will be willing to leave her, since if she stays behind, it’s unlikely she’ll make it out of the village alive. The two children ride away, and the mother watches them from a distance despondently, believing she won’t be seeing them again.

As simple as that, from this short scene we now have reason to care about the common people of Rohan, even nameless characters that serve no other purpose in the story than this. To make this threat more real, we’re then shown as the village is attacked, with villagers being mercilessly hacked down and their homes and farms put to the torch. From a distance, the son and daughter on the horse watch as their home is destroyed, and clouds of smoke fill the horizon. The village is defenseless, and many others will soon meet the same fate when faced with Saruman’s army. Saruman ends his narration by declaring to his master that Rohan is ready to fall, and from what we see there is little reason to doubt it.

Rohan does have its soldiers, however. In the next scene, we see a group of riders arrive at the scene where a battle took place, between a group of orcs and another battalion of riders. It is raining heavily, perhaps to exemplify the dour and desperate position Rohan is in during this war. Among the riders we see is the Eored captain Eomer, and he recognizes the troop that lies defeated before him, and he knows that the king’s son Theodred will be among them. He tasks his men to look for him, and as they do one of the riders remarks that Mordor will pay for what they’ve done, indicating that many in Rohan are still unaware of the closer and more immediate threat in Isengard. To this Eomer replies that the orcs present are not from Mordor, and he turns one of the orcs over to reveal that it wears a helmet branded with the white hand of Saruman (which we saw being used as war paint for the Uruk-hai in the previous film). Eomer, at least, recognizes this sigil, and doesn’t seem surprised that Saruman would be so treacherous.

At length Theodred is found by one of the riders, and when he examines him Eomer discovers that he still lives, though just barely. His riders take Theodred with them back to Edoras, where they can attempt to save him. For the first time, then, we see the city from the inside, though its greater reveal is saved for later. Here is enough to see that the structures in Rohan are different from what we’ve seen of Gondor, with wooden pillars, thatched roofs, and armor and designs on the walls resembling Scandinavian medieval cultures. Once again we’re introduced to a new culture and it’s immediately differentiated from the other culture of men we’ve been exposed to. In Edoras, we see a woman in white robes hurrying into the great hall and visiting the room where Theodred lies. She’s clearly very invested in him, as she looks panic-stricken to see him in such a state. When she sees how badly he’s wounded, her look turns grave, and it might be then that she realizes that Theodred will not live. Eomer, who is also present, doesn’t say anything to encourage her.

In the next scene, the woman, whose name we learn later is Eowyn, accompanies Eomer to the throne room, where at last we meet the king of Rohan: Theoden. Like the country he rules, King Theoden is indeed in a sorry state at the moment. He is old and frail, and doesn’t react to any of the information he is given, and on the rare occasion he does speak, he is quiet and nearly incomprehensible. Eowyn and Eomer tell him that his son is badly wounded, that his riders were ambushed by orcs. Eomer then implores his king to take action and defend his lands, proclaiming that the wizard Saruman intends to take Rohan by force.

Enter Grima Wormtongue. My, we’re getting a whole slew of new characters here, aren’t we? Right from the start, Grima’s appearance suggests that he’s not to be trusted; he is lurking in the shadows, he wears dark clothes, his flesh is pale and his eyebrows are gone, and he lurches as he walks. His own name insists upon his being loathsome, likening him to grime and worms, which a lot of people find a bit too on the nose. He contradicts Eomer, claiming that Saruman has always been an ally to Rohan, so we can infer that he is either very ignorant or that he’s sided with the enemy. Theoden then tries to say something to Grima; we can’t hear what it is, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Theoden appears to lean on Grima more than Eomer, which informs us of just how badly things are going in Rohan. Theoden trusts Grima, and thus he trusts Saruman who is actively working to destroy him and his people.

Eomer sees this and speaks up, telling both Theoden and Grima that the orcs which are pillaging Rohan come from Isengard, and as proof he offers up the helm he found on the battlefield bearing the white hand. When Grima sees this, he can offer no contradiction, and Eowyn even looks at him in a way to suggest she can see through his falseness. But Grima is clever and slimy, and instead of offering an argument he deflects and changes the subject. He says that the news Eomer brings is a burden to his king, and he accuses Eomer of war-mongering against Isengard. Naturally Eomer is offended by this implication, and he lashes out at Grima, which was likely Grima’s intent by provoking him. Eomer has his own accusations to make, believing that Grima is working for Saruman for some promised price. There are two points of interest in this moment: the first being that from these words, we can glean that Grima didn’t always serve Saruman, and that perhaps he was first a man of Rohan who has become useful to the wizard. Second, as we see that Grima eyes Eowyn as she leaves, we learn that he is interested in her, and it is implied that by doing this service to Saruman, he can be with Eowyn when King Theoden is supplanted. Eomer is reviled at the idea of it, as he threatens that Grima has been watching his sister for ‘too long’. This of course reveals his own relation to her, and it further supports the idea that Grima has lived in Rohan for some time, and has had his eye on Eowyn from being in the court with her.

Unfortunately, Eomer does not have the power he thinks he does. Hardly a moment passes from when he threatens Grima that he is grabbed by two men and pulled away from him. Eomer looks shocked that his own men would do this, and then Grima tells him that he sees too much (for his own good, I suppose), and these same men begin beating Eomer. Following this, Grima decrees that Eomer is banished from Rohan, all its domains, on his life. Eomer replies that Grima doesn’t have the authority to banish him, to which Grima reveals that the order came from Theoden, and he shows Eomer the parchment on which the order was signed. Clearly Grima anticipated that Eomer would be an obstacle for him, not only in influencing the king but also in getting close to Eowyn, and he has likely been leading Theoden, as his advisor, in this direction for some time in preparation. The order, as he states, was signed that very morning, which is impeccable timing, but with the war rapidly coming to Rohan, Grima likely knows that time is of the essence. In any event, Eomer can say nothing to defend himself, so he is removed from the hall and banished from Rohan.

There is a lot that is set up in this sequence; the writers had to do a lot of character introductions and world-building quickly in order for the stakes of this part of the story to be fully realized. All the major players in the Rohan setting are established here: we know what’s going on with them, we know what their values are and we know how dire their situation is. Our heroes from Fellowship of the Ring, the remaining companions aside from Frodo and Sam, are entering into this country and all its conflicts, so it’s important that we see and understand their troubles without having it all explained through exposition-heavy dialogue. It fleshes the world out further, and it makes it so that we’re already invested in these characters before Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli meet them.

The Riders of Rohan/Treebeard

            The pursuit across the Mark of Rohan continues as we return to the Uruk-hai troop that’s taking Merry and Pippin to Isengard, with the three companions lagging behind them. As they run over great distances, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are doing their best to keep up, but as Legolas states, “they run as if the very whips of their masters are behind them,” implying the tenacity and endurance of these foes is striking even to the elf. Apparently, after smelling Aragorn earlier, the way the Uruk-hai picked up the pace has undone the progress the companions had made at catching up. The score at this moment blends the Fellowship theme and the theme from Isengard into a tune that’s hopeful but desperate; the companions are running out of time and their hobbit friends are getting closer to their fate.

Then, suddenly the orcs traveling with the Uruk-hai demand that the whole army stop for a breather. This makes sense, since who knows how long they’ve been running tirelessly, and the orcs are not accustomed to traveling like this, certainly not in sunlight. Ugluk, who likely sees that his own troops are desperate to rest, allows for a stop and tells his uruks to get a fire going, which I suppose implies that they may even be staying for the night. Merry and Pippin are placed on the ground, and as they can see the troop has stopped right alongside some dense woodland. Pippin, with his hands bound, scuffles across the ground to go and check on his friend. Merry, meanwhile, laments that they perhaps made a mistake when they left the Shire with Frodo and Sam, considering all the hardship they’ve gone through since then. Pippin takes the remark in good humor, though, and looks glad to see that Merry is still in high spirits.

As they lie there, the Uruk-hai begin taking their axes to the trees to collect firewood, and an ominous rumbling and groaning starts coming from the woods. Oddly, the uruks and orcs take no notice of it, but the two hobbits listen intently. Pippin asks what’s making the noise, and Merry states quite confidently that it was the trees. Pippin stares in disbelief for a moment, so Merry explains: on the borders of Buckland, his home, there’s a place called the Old Forest, which is the only mention these films make of that part of the story. In that forest, there was something that folk would say could make the trees grow taller and come to life. The trees could talk to each other in their own way, and even move. This of course refers to the Huorns which lived in the Old Forest, many of which, we will find, also reside in Fangorn Forest, just beside Rohan… and Isengard. It’s also a setup for a new type of creature we will meet which will be important to the events of this film, and the plotline for Merry and Pippin especially.

Meanwhile, as the Uruk-hai and orcs get settled in, they start grumbling about how little food they’ve gotten in the last three days. They hunger for meat above all, and the orcs begin looking at the two hobbits; their fresh meat is particularly enticing to them. Ugluk, however, remains firm that the hobbits will not be harmed. His orders, as Lurtz’s were before him, was to bring the hobbits to Saruman ‘alive and unspoiled’. He has the hobbits drawn back away from the orcs, then Grishnakh comes forward and asks if they can take the hobbits’ legs, since they aren’t being used while they’re being carried to Isengard. As he gets too bold and tries to approach the hobbits, Ugluk shoves him back and calls him ‘scum’, which makes the other orcs angrier. The orcs and the Uruk-hai start picking up their weapons as they divide from each other, while Ugluk explains his orders. Grishnakh wonders why it’s important that the hobbits be kept alive, to which Ugluk explains that they possess some kind of elvish weapon that Saruman wants. It’s a bit odd that Ugluk knows this, especially considering that neither he nor any of his minions checked the hobbits to know for sure in all this time, but I suppose Saruman was clear that one of the hobbits had what he needed, and as far as any of the Uruk-hai knew, Merry and Pippin were the only two hobbits in the Fellowship.

In any case, this dialogue clues Merry and Pippin to the truth to their capture: the Uruk-hai think one of them is carrying the ring. When Pippin realizes this, Merry shushes him, knowing they’re as good as dead if the truth gets out. As they’re speaking, one of the orcs has snuck behind them and raises his sword. He gives himself away at the last moment, saying he’ll just take a mouthful, but before he can do any harm, Ugluk hurries back and lops off his head with his sword. As the orc falls dead, Ugluk declares to his troops that there is meat to be had after all, and they begin devouring the orc he’s slain. It’s a bit unclear, in the ensuing chaos, whether other orcs meet the same fate or if they stand back and allow this to happen, but Merry and Pippin use this opportunity with everyone distracted to try and crawl away.

They do not get far. Grishnakh follows and stops them before they reach the trees. When he has them pinned, he taunts them to squeal and call for help, since no can save them now that he’s got them. Obviously he had not accounted for the Riders of Rohan to suddenly show up, because he is just then struck with a spear and falls away wailing, and the rest of the Uruk-hai and orcs stop what they’re doing as the riders attack their encampment. The riders cut down the surprised minions with ease, slaughtering them as they scatter with many trying to reach their weapons. One flaw with this scene is that no one hears the riders coming, despite that they have dozens of horses, and that the Uruk-hai, who could smell Aragorn from miles away, couldn’t smell manflesh in this moment to warn them of approaching Rohirrim. It marks a change from the book, where the riders had been following the Uruk-hai for days and had them surrounded before finally closing in. That makes more sense, though in this version they’re accounting for Eomer recently being banished, since it’s his company of riders, we learn soon enough, that is launching this attack.

At the end of this scene, we see the hobbits helplessly trying to navigate the battle, and their fate is left ambiguous when it looks like Pippin is about to be trampled by one of the riders, and we cut to the next morning. We return to the three companions, and Legolas makes a strange remark as he sees the sunrise: “Red sun rises… blood has been spilled this night.” He says this, obviously, as a foreboding sign that the party of Uruk-hai they’ve been tracking died during the night, along with potentially whoever was with them, but it raises the question as to whether a red sun rises every morning after a bloody night. I always thought it warned that troublesome weather would come in the following day, but who knows? Anyway, he and the others reach a high point in the plains, and as they’re looking around, they hear riders approaching, so they quickly take cover in the rocks. The riders come up over the hill, and we can see that there are dozens of them, well-armored and most of them carrying spears. Rohan may be in desperate times, but as we can see here, there are still good soldiers left.

As the riders pass, the companions can see that they are in fact the Riders of Rohan, and thus are not enemies of the Fellowship, so they emerge from their cover. Aragorn calls out to them, and so the man at the front of the riders turns the company round to go back up the hill. When the riders reach the companions, they encircle them for a moment and keep them surrounded, and hold their spears threateningly so that the companions don’t move. Apparently they’re not the allies Aragorn expected they would be; he and the others hold up their hands to show they come in peace. At length one of the riders comes forward and asks what their business is in the Riddermark (Rohan), and we recognize him as being Eomer, recently banished from these lands. We might start to ask what he’s still doing here with all these riders, why he’s remaining at his post when his king has forsaken him, but we’ll learn about that soon enough.

Gimli offers a rather crude but jovial greeting, which offends Eomer so that he gets off his horse and addresses him up close. He threatens Gimli, and in response Legolas threatens him right back, aiming his bow directly in Eomer’s face. It shows his protectiveness of Gimli, stronger now than ever, and Gimli looks shocked that so much trouble has been caused over him. The riders point their spears more closely at Legolas, but Aragorn has the elf put his weapons away and tries to relieve the tension. He tells Eomer who they are, and that they are friends of Rohan, and to its king Theoden. This gives Eomer pause, and he tells Aragorn that Theoden no longer knows his friends from enemies, not even his kin, thus revealing that Eomer and his sister Eowyn are indeed related to the king (more specifically his nephew and niece). He removes his helmet to show that he will not be hostile to the three companions, and in response the surrounding riders draw up their weapons.

Presently then he tells Aragorn about all that we as the audience have seen regarding Theoden’s withering mind and how Saruman has used it to invade Rohan and claim lordship. He says that he and all the present riders remain loyal to Rohan, and thus they have all been banished; even so, as we’ve seen, they continue to fight and resist Saruman’s works where they can. He describes Saruman as being cunning, that he walks ‘here and there’, perhaps to imply that he does not remain idly at Isengard, thus creating the potential that they may run into him in their travels (which will become important later). Eomer describes Saruman’s appearance as a hooded and cloaked old man, and that he has many spies throughout the land. As he says this, he continues to eye the companions suspiciously, but Aragorn assures him that they are not spies. He tells Eomer their purpose in Rohan is to track some Uruk-hai on the plains, because they have two friendlies as their captives. Eomer reveals that his riders rode down the Uruk-hai on the night prior and killed them all.

Gimli asks if they saw any hobbits while they were there, with Aragorn clarifying that they would be small, like children. But Eomer only states that there were none left alive, which, added to the final shot of Pippin about to be trampled earlier, adds to the audience’s concerns that Merry and Pippin did indeed perish in the battle. He tells the companions that the carcasses were piled and burned at the site, and points in that direction, so that they can see for themselves. The three companions are devastated by this news; they are left nearly speechless. Eomer shares his sorrow for their plight, and so he offers them two horses to aid in their travel, and perhaps as recompense for his riders’ actions. He wishes them well, saying that perhaps the horses will bear them ‘to better fortune than their former masters’, implying that their masters were likely killed in the previous night’s skirmish. He says not to trust in hope, however, as they search for their friends; grimly he believes that hope is useless in Rohan in the current day, with all that has gone wrong. Finally, with Eomer mounted again and wearing his helm, he orders his riders to go north, and they leave the companions there to go on as they may. This will be the last time we see him until close to the end of the film.

The three companions are silent as they ponder for a moment, uncertain as to whether their whole mission following the breaking of the Fellowship has all been for naught. With some last measure of resolve, Aragorn leads his companions on once more as they ride to the pile of Uruk carcasses, set right where they had made camp along the edge of the forest. As they arrive, the companions can see that the Rohirrim had been thorough, leaving no bodies or weapons aside with the exception of the head of one Uruk-hai placed on a spear beside the pile. Perhaps this was left as warning to any other minions wandering the plains, but Aragorn and his friends ignore it as they dismount and begin surveying the scene. Gimli goes to the smoldering pile while Legolas and Aragorn have a look around, searching for any clues as to where the hobbits could’ve ended up. Gimli is the first to locate a sign, finding a leafy belt which he recognizes as one of the belts the hobbits were given in Lothlorien to hold their knives. With this in the burning pile, he and the others can only conclude that Merry and Pippin fell along with all the others. In a pit of despair, Legolas and Gimli quietly grieve while Aragorn kicks one of the orc helmets angrily and cries out in his anguish. For a moment, it seems their last purpose in the Fellowship, their final duty to their companions, has ended in failure.

Then Aragorn notices an imprint on the ground near him, and with his tracking skills as a ranger, he recognizes that a hobbit made the mark, and he soon locates a second print to indicate the other. In the following sequence, he sees a variety of prints and tracks left in the ground by Merry and Pippin, and as he follows them the film cuts back and forth between the events of the previous night and the current time as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli have their spirits raised again. We learn at last what happened following the moment that Pippin appeared to be doomed, watching him roll away to safety and reunite with Merry, then use an orc blade to sever the rope binding their hands. They were followed by Grishnakh, but lost him when they undid their belts that he was using to grab onto them, which explains how the belts ended up in the pile. Once this was done, they fled the scene and ran into the forest, which Aragorn reveals is actually Fangorn Forest, the same which borders Isengard to the south. With all these clues, there’s still hope for the companions that Merry and Pippin are still alive, but they must continue their search by entering these foreboding woods. As Gimli asks “What madness drove them in there?”, we receive a clue that Fangorn is a dangerous place, and perhaps the hobbits aren’t safe just because they escaped the Uruk-hai.

With this implication looming, we resume the plot thread which had been pieced together in the previous montage, following Merry and Pippin as they entered the dense forest the night before. They appear to reach relative safety as they stop and rest on the ground, and they think for a moment that weren’t followed, until some rustling and snarling alerts them to Grishnakh, who is relentless in his hunger and rage as he pursues the hobbits. He threatens to rip out their ‘filthy little innards’ as the hobbits once again run for their lives. Merry decides the best way to hide is to climb a tree, so he and Pippin scamper up the nearest trunk as Grishnakh closes in on them. After they climb up, they appear to be safe for a moment when they look around and can no longer spot the orc, then Merry is grabbed by his ankle and starts to be pulled down. He falls to the ground and tries to fight Grishnakh off without any weapons, while the orc raises his blade. Pippin watches all this helplessly from above, though it does seem strange that in this desperate situation he hasn’t climbed down to try and help his best friend.

As he calls Merry’s name, something magical begins to happen. The tree that he’s holding onto for dear life starts to wake up; it opens its eyes and sighs with a very deep voice, and Pippin slowly comes to the realization that this tree is moving on its own. Stunned, he starts to fall, but the tree catches him in one of its limbs, and then starts to raise one of its feet toward Merry and Grishnakh. As the orc has Merry pinned and threatens him, Merry is looking past him at the awesome sight behind Grishnakh, which soon turns Grishnakh’s attention to the same direction. He looks only just in time to see the tree crush him underfoot, and that is the end of Grishnakh. Merry starts to flee, but soon the tree picks him up in his other hand and holds the two hobbits up to its face. The tree looks over the two hobbits, holding them with a strong grip they can’t wriggle free from, and with this being one of the largest and most dangerous creatures they’ve encountered on this long journey, it seems their tale is about to come to an end here.

Then the tree begins speaking, and he implies as he starts walking through the woods that he thinks the hobbits are ‘little orcs’. Pippin is in disbelief that this creature is talking, but when he calls it a tree, it becomes offended and corrects Pippin by saying it is not a tree, but an Ent. Merry looks fascinated; he’s heard of Ents before, and he refers to them as ‘tree-herders’. Likely Merry knows this lore from hearing stories about the Old Forest, which he shared briefly with Pippin earlier. This meeting is of course set up by that dialogue, but while Merry is interested, Pippin is still frightened and warns Merry not to encourage the Ent by speaking with it. The Ent then reveals that his name is Treebeard, showing he is not as hostile as he initially seems by introducing himself. With this sign of peace, Pippin asks what ‘side’ Treebeard is on, wondering if the Ent is for or against Sauron, but Treebeard declares that he serves no one, since no one cares for him or the woods anymore. He once again refers to the hobbits as ‘little orcs’, so Merry assures him that they are hobbits, not orcs.

Treebeard replies that he’s never heard of hobbits before, which seems very unlikely given how old the Ents are and how much knowledge they’ve built up from their ages on Middle-Earth. But, perhaps it’s meant that the hobbits are not a prominent or ancient race like elves or men, and like Ents have mostly kept to themselves over the years, which would be supported by Bilbo’s narration at the beginning of Fellowship (quite content to ignore and be ignored by the world of the big folk). In any case, Treebeard suspects that it’s only orc mischief intended to trick him, and he becomes angry and tightens his grip on the hobbits. He then describes his hatred of the orcs, for how they corrupt and destroy the lands they enter; “Gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning.” Once again it seems the hobbits’ lives are threatened, so Merry desperately tries to talk Treebeard down from his rage and tell him of other names the hobbits go by to jog his memory. Treebeard still doesn’t seem to trust them, but he says if anyone will know the truth, the White Wizard will. We as the audience, unless we’ve read the book, are left to think, as Merry does, that he refers to Saruman, who we know lives just on the border of Fangorn Forest. This whole escape from the Uruk-hai could be for naught if they are brought to him now, and it is revealed presently that the White Wizard is where Treebeard has been taking them this whole time as he lays down the hobbits before this figure in a white cloak. The hobbits look up at him in shock, but we do not see the wizard’s face, as the scene cuts there to leave us wondering what’s to become of Merry and Pippin.

The Dead Marshes

At this point in the film, we’ve spent a long time not only with the five companions in Rohan but also developing the setting of Rohan and showing the war coming to that land from Isengard. The Frodo and Sam story, however, hasn’t been touched on since the beginning, so now the film takes us back to them as Gollum finally leads them out of the Cliffs of Emyn Muil. The impossible labyrinth has been traversed, and now the road to Mordor looks fairly open to them as the land below the cliffs appears marshy and flat. Gollum seems pleased and excited that he’s been true to his word thus far, finally getting to show the hobbits the fruits of his labor. As they turn the corner and see the land open before them, Gollum tells them how lucky they are that he found them, which is a bit ironic considering why he came after them in the first place and why he’s their captive now. But it’s not untrue either, because it’s unclear how long Frodo and Sam were wandering in Emyn Muil without a guide, and Gollum seems to have gotten them out pretty quickly. They say no words of thanks as they make their way down the rocks, but Gollum calls Sam ‘nice hobbit’ in attempt to remain on their good side. Likely he still fears being put on the rope again.

After this, Sam discovers by stepping into a sinkhole that Gollum has led them into a swamp, likely the same bog he’d been smelling earlier. I don’t know why it’s taken Sam this long to recognize a swamp, when it appears they’ve been traveling in it for a short distance already and could probably tell from a distance that it was a wetland. In any case, Gollum shows that he intended to lead them here, and he says he knows safe paths through the mists, indicating he knows this place well and that the swamp may be treacherous. He hurries the hobbits along with his speech, telling them that he goes quickly (using the colloquial “we” to refer to his multiple personalities). At length he declares that he’s found the path, and the camera shows a wide shot of the marshes, revealing how far and wide it stretches and that the hobbits are caught in the middle of it, essentially dependent on Gollum’s direction even though they’re clear of Emyn Muil. Gollum says that orcs don’t know this path, and that they instead avoid the marshes by traveling many miles around it. This of course lets us know that the hobbits should be safe from bands of orcs despite being out in the open, but it’s also even more foreboding that orcs would dread this place and avoid it at all costs. What’s so dangerous about this marsh, anyway?

The hobbits and Gollum stop to rest and eat, and Sam grouses about it being too quiet in the marsh. He wishes there were birds about, and Gollum wishes it too, but for different reasons: Gollum hungers for fresh meat, and he groans loudly about being famished. Then something catches his eye, and he soon snatches a large, live worm and slurps it up like a spaghetti noodle. Clearly Gollum has adapted to eating whatever fresh meat he can find in his many years in the wild, but Sam, a decent and sensible hobbit with standards, sees this and starts to lose his appetite. Frodo, still pitying Gollum for his situation, decides to offer the poor wretch some food, and he throws him a piece of lembas. A pretty noble gesture, considering how limited the hobbits are on supplies. Gollum gets excited and asks about what they’re eating, but as he takes a bite of the bread, he starts to choke and he spits it back out. He’s grown to loathe all things made by elves, as we saw with the rope earlier, and the lembas is detestable to him where it’s delicious for the hobbits. He says that he can’t eat hobbit food, not knowing it comes from the elves, and so he concludes that he must starve for now, whining like a small child. Sam still has no pity for him, and tells him it’ll be good riddance if he starves. Gollum calls him cruel for having no care, then he recognizes that Frodo is different. Frodo pitied him with the rope, and he’s pitied him again by offering him food, so Gollum senses a connection; they are both ring-bearers. He starts to try and form a bond with Frodo by talking about the ring and the effect it’s had on both of them, and how they continue to suffer from it. It’s been such a long time since Gollum has had a friend that he doesn’t remember having them, so you can sense the yearning in his expression as he tries to get close to Frodo.

But Frodo isn’t having it. He swats away Gollum’s hand as he starts to reach for him, and he tells him with a sharp tone not to touch him. Gollum seems surprised and hurt by this response, so he crawls away for now, and Sam keeps an eye on him, suspicious of his motives. The three press on sometime later, and the marshes they’re traveling in start to reveal new signs. There are torches lit beside some of the banks, and the mist over the water has grown denser in places, making it harder to see the paths forward. Then Sam notices dead bodies in the water, many pale faces in all of the pools, mostly elves and men still apparently wearing their armor. When he points this out, Gollum reveals some lore: they are remnants of a battle fought long ago between the elves and men and the orcs, and he says that the swamp is known as the Dead Marshes as a result of their continued haunting of this land. He tells the hobbits to follow him closely, and he warns them not to follow the lights, referring to the torches.

Sam obeys this directive, but Frodo doesn’t seem to heed it for very long. Perhaps driven by his curiosity, or perhaps influenced by the ring and its connection to the events Gollum described, Frodo starts following the torches. He soon reaches a lagoon where a dead figure lies facing up at him from the water, and he hovers over it for a moment until Sam sees him. Sam cries out, but Frodo is not himself. As he watches, the dead one’s eyes suddenly open and are deathly pale. Frodo falls into the water, and Sam runs after him. We next see what Frodo sees in the water, and it’s very reminiscent of the twilight Ringwraiths he faced at Weathertop when he put on the One Ring (an interesting set up, when you consider what happens a short while later). The dead ones he witnessed from above are merely apparitions, and entering the water is akin to entering the twilight world, the wraith world, and seeing these horrid specters for what they are. They appear as horrible rotted corpses, and they surround Frodo as he panics but seems unable to escape. They reach towards him, and are almost touching him at the moment a hand grabs him by the cloak and pulls him out of the water.

But it isn’t Sam who saves Frodo from the wraiths; it’s Gollum. Perhaps Gollum warned Sam not to touch or enter the water to save his friend, as he could potentially put himself in the same kind of danger. In any case, when Frodo sees who his savior is, he’s stunned. Likely he thought that Gollum only wanted him dead so he could reclaim his precious, and wouldn’t stick his neck out in with him or Sam in a life-or-death situation. Yet Gollum has already become attached to Frodo, even if Frodo has been closed off, and his service to the master has now gone beyond what Frodo would’ve expected, forcing him to reconsider their relationship. Gollum sternly tells him again not to follow the lights, and then he presses on. When Sam reaches Frodo’s side, Frodo is still staring at Gollum in disbelief.

That night, the two hobbits bed down on some solid ground in the marshes while the storms of Mordor rage nearby, reinforcing their growing peril as they get closer to their destination. While Sam is out for the count, Frodo remains awake as he paws at the One Ring in his hand. We haven’t seen much of the ring in this film, so likely this moment is used to show its enduring effect on Frodo, that this burden is not getting any easier for him to bear. But then he hears Gollum talking loudly to himself, wistfully thinking about his precious which is now so close by. Frodo seems to get protective of the ring, but the term “my precious” jogs something in his memory, and he asks Gollum who he really is. Gollum tells him that it’s not his business, and that he should rest to keep up his strength. He then does the Gollum cough again, and Frodo goes over to him and tells him that Gandalf shared some details about Gollum’s life once, that he was one of the River Folk and his life is a sad story. Gollum meanwhile recites some kind of lyric poem, as a means of either deflecting Frodo’s pressing questions or to recollect details from his past.

Then comes a very important moment in the development of both characters. Frodo implies that Gollum was once hobbit-like, and he calls him ‘Smeagol’. When Gollum hears this name, his eyes immediately light up and his expression changes from remorseful to full of wonderment. Frodo tells him that it was once his name, a long time ago, and as Gollum ponders his name you can see him filling in all the long years in his head as the memories of his old self, Smeagol, come back to him all at once. He smiles and seems thrilled to be reacquainted with his past, and grateful to Frodo for providing that to him. It’s a great moment in each of them gaining a mutual respect, trust, and care for each other despite their differences and their auspicious beginnings. Frodo realized when Gollum saved his life that he actually cares about him, and thus he cares about things in this world other than the ring. There’s more to Gollum than he thought, and thus there might be a person underneath all the filth and the obsession with the ring that is worth connecting to and saving. Gollum meanwhile learns that Frodo has become invested in him, wanting him to reconnect with his past rather than go on as the miserable wretch that he’s been for hundreds of years. They share a bond not by their commonality of being ring-bearers, but by being hobbits, or hobbit-like. It shows Gollum that Frodo sees him not as a creature but as his fellow man, or hobbit. It creates a firm foundation for their relationship to build upon as their story progresses. From this point on Frodo refers to him by the name Smeagol, while Sam continues to use Gollum, which shows the ongoing distinction in how they each view him.

But this tender moment ends on an all too familiar sound: the cry of a Black Rider. The noise wakes Sam and frightens Gollum, while the piercing shriek reignites the pain in Frodo’s shoulder where he was stabbed. As Gandalf had said, the wound will never fully heal, and the darkness of the Morgul Blade continues to fester as a second burden to Frodo. Moreover, we as the audience learn that the Ringwraiths are not, in fact, destroyed. We last saw them at the Ford of Bruinen, when Arwen defeated them using elven magic and summoning the river, but this only succeeded in drowning the horses and preventing them from reaching Frodo. The wraiths, as immortal specters, carried on and returned to their master, and now they’ve been given new beasts to ride. Frodo, Sam, and Gollum reach cover, with Sam having to help Frodo through the pain. Sam says that he thought, like the audience, that the Ringwraiths were dead, but Gollum replies that they cannot be killed. As someone who bore the ring for many years, Gollum likely had many encounters with the Ringwraiths, as they would’ve hunted him for the ring for all the time he held it and would’ve been drawn to its power whenever he wore it, and so this informs his current wariness in hiding from and dealing with them.

The camera then locates the Ringwraith as it searches for the ring in the Dead Marshes. As I hinted before, it’s interesting to consider why the Ringwraith is searching here in the Marshes when Frodo hasn’t been wearing the ring. I think the film implies that the wraiths in the marshes have some connection to the Ringwraiths, and when Frodo fell into the water it alerted them to his presence in the area, since they would recognize him from having encountered him at Weathertop. It would be consistent with the ring acting of its own will to return to its master, and it would help to explain Frodo’s strange behavior in that scene if the ring were influencing his actions. Frodo is the only character we see that enters the wraith world, and I think the fact that the sequence where he’s trapped in the water with the dead ones calls back to his experience at Weathertop isn’t a coincidence. Thus the Ringwraith has come to the Dead Marshes searching for him, and as the camera zooms out from the rider we can get a good look at the monster it’s riding on. A massive winged creature, similar to a dragon, with a long neck but a small head and talons like a raptor bird, and a harsh cry that answers when the Ringwraith screams. The films do not name these monsters, though expanded content from outside the films refers to them as ‘fell beasts’, and as we will see in the third film all nine of the Ringwraiths are riding them. When Gollum sees the fell beast swooping over the land, he cries out in terror, calling them ‘wraiths on wings’.

As the Ringwraith continues its search, Frodo feels a familiar urge return to him, one that he’s not faced for a while now. The ring calls to him to put it on again, much like it did when he and his friends were hiding from the Black Rider on the borders of the Shire. Again he starts to reach for it, and as he starts giving in to its temptation we can see in the background the ominous sight of the fell beast flying closer to their location, with Gollum recognizing that they are calling out for the ring. But, just like the scene in the Shire, Sam is the one to stop Frodo from doing the wrong thing, and he grabs his hand and tells him they’ll be alright. Once he does this, the temptation passes, the Ringwraith starts to lose its sense of the ring, and the fell beast flies away and bothers them no more. Isn’t Sam just a great friend? It was a close call, but this scene lets us know the Ringwraiths are still very much a threat, now perhaps more than ever. Gollum starts to lead the hobbits onward again, letting them know that the Black Gate to Mordor which Frodo requested is very close.

The White Rider

We return presently to Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli as they continue to follow Merry and Pippin’s trail into Fangorn Forest. Gimli tastes a marking that he finds on a bush leaf, then spits it out when he recognizes it as orc blood. This hints that they’re nearing the hobbits’ location as the orc Grishnakh chased them into the woods, though one would think they’d find his trampled corpse more easily than a bloodstain on some leaves. Given what we see in a later scene, it’s possible the Huorns swallowed up his body in the same way we see one trying to take Merry and Pippin. Aragorn then notices that something has left strange tracks in the forest, which leaves us to wonder whether they belong to an orc, a tree, a hobbit, or perhaps the White Wizard that Treebeard mentioned earlier. Gimli remarks that the air feels very close; though it’s difficult to know exactly what he means, he seems to imply that the forest has a very claustrophobic atmosphere, being so closed off from the rest of the world. To this Legolas explains that the forest is very old, full of memory and anger. The trees have been a witness to Middle-Earth’s history, and are currently nursing a long, slow wrath as they and their homes are being destroyed. This would, potentially, make the forests that much more dangerous to outsiders.

On that note, we hear a rumbling sound as Legolas realizes the trees are speaking to each other, and Gimli raises his axe to be on guard. Aragorn warns him quickly to lower the weapon, so the dwarf slowly brings it down as he seems to recognize how the axe might be threatening to the trees. Legolas tells him the trees have feelings, and that it was the elves who started waking up the trees ages ago, and teaching them to speak. As elves are typically woodland creatures, it would make sense that Legolas would be familiar with this history, and that he and his people would feel a certain adoration for their kind, and it’d explain why Legolas has no fear of them now. Gimli, meanwhile, being a resident of the mountains, seems to think the idea of talking trees is ridiculous, and he snarks about how they’d have little to discuss other than squirrel droppings.

But soon the subject changes, and Legolas can sense that they are not alone in the woods. He warns Aragorn that the White Wizard is approaching, and so the three companions huddle closer and start to ready their weapons, expecting to meet Saruman head on. Aragorn says that Saruman must not be allowed to speak, lest he entrap them in some sort of spell, and they must act quickly if they are to engage him. They then move around the next tree and try to attack, as a blinding light resonates from where the wizard awaits them. Legolas fires a shot and Gimli throws an axe, but both projectiles are deflected as the wizard expertly moves with his staff. Aragorn is also forced to drop his sword when it seems that it’s going to catch fire or melt down in his hands. It seems the three companions are beaten, and they do not move to attack the wizard further, only covering their eyes from the light as they face him. An eagle eye, however, can notice that the staff this wizard is holding is not the same as the one we’ve seen Saruman wielding at Isengard.

The wizard then speaks to the three companions, letting them know that he knows why they’ve come to Fangorn: to search for two hobbits. His voice is not entirely the voice of Saruman; it seems blended with the voice of another. When Aragorn asks where the hobbits have gone, the wizard tells them that the hobbits did indeed pass this way, but they met someone they didn’t expect. He then asks if this information comforts them, which is a bit odd even considering who the speaker really is because it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re safe. Aragorn then demands that the wizard show himself, though notably the wizard doesn’t answer when asked his name. At last he steps out in front of the great light so that the three companions can see him clearly, and it’s about the last person they expected to see: Gandalf.

But he is not the same as before. Gandalf no longer wears grey robes or wields a brown staff, nor does he have a tall grey hat. This Gandalf looks more regal and composed, with long flowing white robes and a new white staff, and his hair is not curled or scraggly but instead much smoother. The three companions are stunned at the sight of him, and Legolas apologizes for mistaking him for Saruman. To this Gandalf declares that he is Saruman, or rather Saruman as he should’ve been had he not been corrupted by the ring and Sauron’s power. Aragorn cannot get past that Gandalf is alive and well, and he reminds the wizard that the last they saw him, he fell to the depths of Moria. Gandalf recalls this vividly, and as he explains his battle with the Balrog we get a flashback to his duel and see how it continued after they fell to the depths. They somehow reached a peak above the mountains after falling so far under the earth, and there they made their final stand as Gandalf invoked the lightning-brand Glamdring and used it to deliver the killing blow and smite the Balrog. Even so, this struggle appears to have taken it all out of Gandalf, and with the Balrog slain he also fell into the snow.

Gandalf’s description for what happens next is kept pretty vague, and it seems his memory of it is rather unclear. What we can glean from it is that Gandalf the Grey died fighting the Balrog, but some higher authority (the Eldar, as book readers would know) deemed that Gandalf’s mission in Middle-Earth was not yet completed, so they sent him back until it was done. In doing this, they gave him greater power in order to replace Saruman, who turned to wickedness and no longer worked to preserve Middle-Earth. Now he is returned as Gandalf the White, though when Aragorn uses the name Gandalf he seems puzzled for a moment, until he remembers what his old name was. Perhaps, indeed, he believed that he was Saruman redeemed rather than Gandalf, but when faced with people who only know him as Gandalf, he assumes the old name and Saruman’s mantle as the White Wizard. In any case, Gandalf declares that with his arrival, the tide of this war is about to turn.

It can’t be ignored, however, that this resurrection of such an important and powerful character has caused a lot of controversy among fans, literature critics, and writers like myself. Many people feel that his return makes his sacrifice in Fellowship less meaningful, that it harms the stakes of the story if someone like Gandalf can’t really be killed, and that by making him more powerful than before, it potentially gives the heroes an unfair advantage they didn’t have earlier. These criticisms were leveled against the books long before the movies ever came out, but because this event factors into the storytelling of these movies, it must be addressed. First, it must be made clear that Gandalf is the only character to be resurrected while several other major characters die. Gandalf, of course, is a wizard, and the wizards of Middle-Earth aren’t like the wizards in Harry Potter, for instance. They are few, part of the order called the Istari, who are likened to divine beings (I’ve heard them referred to as Maiar, like Sauron, but I’m not sure if that’s correct), so we can conclude that even when their physical bodies are killed, they do not totally perish. Like the elves they are otherwise immortal, and serve the purpose of looking after Middle-Earth over the ages. Of course, a lot of this is lore that comes from outside material, but the movie doesn’t provide much in the way of explaining Gandalf’s death and resurrection, or who it was that sent him back. I think it’s kept intentionally vague, because the more details you provide, the more it tends to raise questions. We don’t even know to a certainty that Gandalf really died; he seemed to be catatonic after defeating the Balrog, but the Balrog never struck him a fatal blow that we saw, and he uses the line “I felt life in me again” almost as to imply that his body was dormant while his spirit drifted and when he was sent back, he was more or less transformed. It’s all pretty thin, but I think it’s enough to accept that Gandalf could come back from, or even survive, that fall.

This doesn’t address the criticisms I brought up, however. Does it make his sacrifice in Fellowship less meaningful? Absolutely not. He held the line against the most powerful threat the fellowship had faced to that point, and he gave them an escape in a desperate moment. His fall had major repercussions as well: he’s not there when the fellowship breaks apart in Amon Hen, and his death leaves Frodo and everyone else with doubts about continuing the journey, and his absence forces Aragorn to embrace leadership and grow further into his mantle to become king one day. Does his return affect the stakes of the story? Well, yes and no. One could argue that the war in Rohan would have ended badly for men had he not been there to free Theoden from Saruman’s grasp or to fetch Eomer’s riders to break the siege at Helm’s Deep. One could also argue that Minas Tirith would’ve fallen without his stout leadership, without his effort to light the beacons and send Aragorn to the Dimholt Road. These are fair points, but you have to remember, Gandalf is just one person, and he can only do so much. The story still hinges on Frodo and Sam having the strength and courage to reach Mordor, and it still depends on Aragorn accepting his claim to the throne of Gondor. Gandalf’s presence in the second and third films influences both of those story threads, but him being alive doesn’t automatically spell victory for the heroes. He just gives the men of the west a fighting chance, and as we see in Return of the King, there are still powers in Middle-Earth greater than he is. So, the long and short is, Gandalf’s resurrection is a bit of a compromise, but I’d argue it doesn’t break the story. I suppose the amount each viewer can accept it depends on how far into it they read. Perhaps the story could’ve been handled differently if he stayed dead, but it’s hard to imagine that version of it now. If that version did exist, I think most people would prefer the version where he comes back. That doesn’t make it better, but I wouldn’t assume a version where he stayed dead would’ve been better either.

Whoo, now, moving on! Gandalf now leads the other three companions from Fangorn Forest, telling them that now one stage of their journey is over, and another begins. Their duty, now, is less about the preservation of the fellowship and more about fighting in the war that is coming to men. Gandalf, despite having been absent for some time, is clearly aware of events taking place in Rohan, so we might conclude that the Eldar, or whoever sent him back, provided some information as to his duty that he must fulfill, or perhaps he already knew about some of these things before the fellowship initially began their quest. Anyway, he tells the three that they must ride to Edoras, essentially the capitol city of Rohan, and they must get there quickly. Gimli remarks that Edoras is far away, while Aragorn shares what they learned from Eomer about the trouble with the King of Rohan. Gandalf says that it is a trouble that will not be easily cured, but he seems to have some idea as to how to resolve it.

But Gimli continues to sulk about how their restless travel to catch up to Merry and Pippin has been for nothing, and he seems unhappy with leaving them in a forest which he starts to describe very unkindly until he starts to hear some of the rumbling noises he’d heard earlier. This clues him in that the trees are still listening and watching him, so he changes his tune and calls the forest ‘quite charming’ instead. Gandalf, however, has a very positive outlook about their situation, and he implies that fate brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn Forest, and they may yet play a role in coming events. He refers to their arrival to Fangorn as being like ‘the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche’, indicating that the repercussions of their meeting with Treebeard could be major (and they will, as we will see). Aragorn notes that Gandalf continues to speak in riddles like his old self, and the two share a laugh. Gandalf, then, looks up into the canopy of the trees and implies with a sense of wonder that the Ents of Fangorn are about to wake up for the first time in ages, and find that they are still quite strong. Gimli seems baffled by this, but another rumbling from the trees makes him reconsider. In the end, Gandalf tells him to stop worrying about Merry and Pippin; they are quite safe with the ents, and much safer than any of the present company are about to be as they venture back into Rohan. Gimli then grumbles to himself about how the new Gandalf is grumpier than the old one, and indeed he has shown himself to be all business and no nonsense since he’s appeared.

Now clear of the trees, the four companions stand on the plains as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli reach their horses and Gandalf whistles loudly. The noise echoes over the plains, and after a pause another horse appears. A truly majestic sight; an all-white horse with a flowing mane that wears no saddle or bridle but answers Gandalf’s call urgently. Gandalf smiles when he sees it, while the other three are amazed. Legolas declares that it must be one of the Mearas, which the film doesn’t provide much information on, but we can assume they’re an elite class of steeds, only bestowed on the worthiest of riders. One might assume that it was a gift to Gandalf given upon his resurrection, but when he names the horse as Shadowfax, he claims that he has been his friend through many dangers, which implies that they traveled together in ages before, when he was Gandalf the Grey. Of course, we never saw Gandalf ride this horse previously, so we must assume he only calls upon Shadowfax when the need is most dire. He calls Shadowfax ‘the lord of all horses’, which is a statement that’s a bit unclear in its meaning. It could imply that Shadowfax is merely the finest steed in all Middle-Earth, or it could mean that he literally commands the obedience and respect of all other horses, but whatever the case it is clear that Gandalf treasures his partnership with such a renowned beast.

In any case, with this horse carrying Gandalf, the four companions can now all be mounted (with Gimli and Legolas riding together on a single horse as before), and they begin their quick flight across the plains to reach Edoras. The music here is full of hope and triumph, as the film’s tone begins to change from all the bleakness and terror that had been shown up to this point. We then return to Merry and Pippin as they are with the ent Treebeard. This time, Treebeard is not carrying them in his hands where he can potentially crush them, but instead lets them sit perched on his branches around his shoulder, thus showing that there is now no uneasiness about them and they’ve started to become friends since they met with Gandalf earlier. Treebeard is even reciting some poetry to them to pass the time as they journey across the forest together. His speech is quite slow and his movements are steady and gradual, which is indicative of the slow and steady behavior of all ents. Merry asks how much further their destination is, but Treebeard tells him not to be hasty. His home is nestled in the roots of the Misty Mountains; a long way for hobbits, but not so far for ents who are happy to take their time as they have so much of it.

He then continues reciting lyrics to the hobbits, saying that he’s been composing them himself. The poem he shares is in fact an ode to the Entwives, which he will mention later, and shows his longing to be reunited with them after the ages they’ve been gone, for them to come back to Fangorn and be pleased in how he and the other ents have tended the land. It’s a subtle bit of character development for Treebeard, revealing what’s important to him even if the hobbits aren’t really paying much attention to him. Unbeknownst to him, his poems have served to lull the hobbits slowly to sleep as they lean against his branches, with his steady walking pace like a cradle rocking them and his drawn-out words so conducive to sleep. After he makes it through the poem, he looks to see that both hobbits have fallen asleep, so he quiets down and continues walking. Sometime later, after it’s gotten dark, he finds a cozy spot in the woods to lay the hobbits down for the night. While they sleep, however, he moves on and talks to himself briefly about the work that must be done. We don’t yet know what he means, but he does mention communicating with the others, so it seems that avalanche that Gandalf mentioned may already be starting up.

The same night, the four companions have stopped to make camp on the Rohan plains, where they can see the storms of Mordor in the far distance with red lights in the sky. Legolas and Gimli have gone to sleep, but Gandalf and Aragorn remain awake and on watch. The following scene is pretty exposition heavy, and it sort of lays out the stakes and conflicts that the characters now face at this point in their journey. Gandalf recognizes how strong Sauron has become, with his armies fully massed and his ally in Saruman now ready to make war. Despite this, Gandalf believes that Sauron is plagued by doubt and fear, for he will have heard by now rumors that Isildur’s Heir has been found. He assures Aragorn that Sauron fears what he will become; even after thousands of years Sauron recognizes the strength men wield to oppose him, and he remembers how close they came to utterly destroying him. Thus he moves quickly to destroy the world of men, namely in Gondor and Rohan, before they can be united against him. This of course provides additional urgency to Aragorn’s quest, the necessity for him to overcome his doubt and take his place as king. Gandalf adds that Sauron leaves the conquest of Rohan to Saruman, and so Rohan must prepare for war despite how weak they currently are. Their king Theoden has had his mind enslaved by Saruman, so they ride to Edoras in order to break this curse.

Gandalf declares that Sauron and Saruman are ‘tightening the noose’ for Middle-Earth. Yet, despite all their planning, he says, they’ve failed to account for the secrecy of the fellowship’s quest, and that the ring is still hidden despite Saruman’s efforts to claim it. Gandalf says all their hope rests in Frodo reaching Mordor and getting there in secret. He sees in Aragorn’s look that he may have some regrets about letting Frodo go alone, so he encourages him by saying he did the right thing, and that it is best for Frodo to be alone now. But Aragorn adds that Frodo isn’t alone, and indeed Sam went with him. Gandalf is both surprised and gladdened by this news, as he has always believed in Sam and knew he would make a good companion to Frodo from the beginning. After all, he told Sam not to leave Frodo before they departed the Shire, so he is likely grateful to hear that Sam never did even all this time later. Of course, what neither Gandalf nor Aragorn are currently aware of is that Frodo and Sam have picked up another traveling companion since the fellowship split, and they might not be so pleased about that one.

The Black Gate is Closed

Now that the narrative has got us thinking about Frodo and Sam again, the film takes us back to their journey as they are making their way up a cliff face. When they reach the top, Gollum is waiting for them, and from there they can see the Morannon, the Black Gate of Mordor. Gollum announces it for them, and they seem terror struck at the sight of it. Gollum himself looks pained and anxious to be so close to Mordor again, understandably since he was so recently held and tortured there. Sam remarks that his father, the Gaffer, would have something to say if he could see them now, having ventured through all Middle-Earth to reach this horrid destination. The gate is high and black with sharp merlons at the top and heavily guarded by orcs. It is too tall and sheer to be climbed, and two huge pillars of iron overlook the valley. Gollum reminds Frodo that this is where he was told to bring them, but as they can see it would be nearly impossible to proceed this way.

As Sam implies that this is the end of the road, they start to see and hear as a battalion of troops is heading for the gates. Unlike most of Sauron’s minions, however, these are not orcs or trolls, but men. The film doesn’t offer much background on them, but they are the men of Rhun, a region to the north of Mordor and on the eastern edge of Middle-Earth, and thus are known as the Easterlings. They have either been previously corrupted by Sauron’s power or have been conscripted into this war, and as we can see they are heavily armored and carry an arsenal of weaponry. As they approach the gate, one of the orcs on the wall blows a horn to signal their coming, and we see as two trolls chained to an enormous winch take action and begin pushing it to open the doors. The gate parts to create an opening large enough for the battalion to pass through. Sam gets excited as this might be their chance to sneak inside, so he starts looking for a way down from their perch. He finds one, but Frodo tries to stop him from going just yet. Sam, however, places himself on an unstable rock and slides down off the summit, so Frodo has to go after him.

This causes a commotion, and some of the Easterlings notice as a trail of dust rises into the air from Sam’s fall. They separate from the troop and go to investigate; meanwhile, Frodo carefully makes his way down to Sam’s position, finding his friend stuck in a pile of gravel. When he reaches him, he has to start trying to dig him up, but the pair of Easterlings keeps getting closer. Eventually, they come so dangerously close that Frodo resorts to throwing his cloak over himself and Sam, and the Easterlings stop to stand over them. This is a moment lots of people, myself included, take issue with, in that Frodo waits a really long time until finally covering himself and Sam with the cloak, more than enough time for the Easterlings to notice him. They’re practically standing over him already by the time he does, which makes you wonder just how poor their eyesight is. The moment does, however, serve the purpose of showing what Lord Celeborn meant when he said to the Fellowship that these cloaks could shield them from unfriendly eyes, because once the cloak is over them, it makes them appear like any other large rock in the area. It’s kind of remarkable that it does this, considering that the cloaks have always had a greenish color to them and the rocks in this area are all gray. Still, it does the trick, and the Easterlings fail to distinguish the cloak from the rocks, eventually turning around to return to their battalion before it reaches the gate. It’s a neat little payoff to a much earlier set up, but it was handled much less gracefully than the Mithril Coat, for example.

Frodo waits until the Easterlings have gone a safe distance away, then withdraws the cloak and helps Sam out of the rocks. They watch as the Easterling troop enters Mordor, and Frodo hangs back for a moment before charging onward, telling Sam that he doesn’t have to come with him any further than this, since going into Mordor will surely be the most dangerous part of their quest. Sam acknowledges this, saying he doubts even the cloaks will keep them hidden in Mordor, but he stands by Frodo regardless, ready to go with him to hell and back if need be. Together the hobbits are ready to run headlong into the gate while it’s still open, until someone stops them. Gollum grabs them each by their cloaks and pulls them back. He says that they’re certain to be caught if they go through the gate, and if this happens the ring will be taken to Sauron.

This is a pretty significant and interesting character moment for Gollum, because it reveals two things about him. One, he’s aware of what will happen if Sauron reclaims the ring; it means Gollum will never get it back, but it also spells doom for Middle-Earth, and no matter what happens Gollum can’t risk that. Two, it shows that his compassion for Frodo means he won’t let Frodo throw himself away in such a rash action. If he is captured, and he surely will be if he tries to enter by the black gate, Frodo will likely be killed, and Gollum doesn’t want that to happen now that Frodo has given him his old identity back and started to treat him more humanly. In his body language you can see how much he’s become attached to Frodo, as he paws at his cloak and bows his head like he’s begging Frodo not to leave. There are two sides of Gollum acting in this moment, the Smeagol side who wants to see Frodo stay alive and stave off Sauron’s threat to Middle-Earth, and selfish Gollum side who wants to reclaim the ring at all costs, which we see a glimpse of when he growls “We mustn’t let him have it”.

Still, Frodo believes he has no other choice, so he starts to go on again until Gollum tells him that there is another way into Mordor, a dark and secret way. Sam is angry that Gollum never mentioned this alternative until now, but Gollum replies that he was never asked. The mention of a different path gives Frodo pause, and he wants to know more, so Gollum describes it: a long winding stair that leads up into the mountains, and reaches a tunnel. It’s unclear how Gollum knows about this route, since Gandalf implied Sauron set him loose after torturing him in Fellowship and Gollum otherwise would not want to go anywhere near Mordor, though perhaps Gollum spent more time in these mountains in the years before Sauron returned to power. In any case, this description sounds pretty sketchy, and Sam doesn’t like the sound of it, but Frodo considers as their chance at entering by the black gate slowly disappears while it closes. He reasons with Sam that Gollum has been true to his word thus far, so perhaps he can be trusted further. For Sam, trusting Gollum is unthinkable, since he hasn’t had the experience of connecting and growing closer to him as Frodo has. He sternly advises Frodo against this decision, but when Frodo tells Smeagol to lead the way, he doesn’t speak up further. Now there’s a new rift between them, these two stalwart friends who have gone through so much together divided because of a creature who could ruin all their plans. Sam is right not to trust Gollum, given what’s happened so far and what we see in the next film, and yet Frodo is also justified in believing Gollum can be redeemed if he’s given the chance.

The black gate closes fully, and so now the two hobbits are being led southwards towards Gollum’s secret entrance to Mordor. Now that it is morning, we are brought back to Merry and Pippin in Fangorn as they wake up in the spot where Treebeard left them. Well, truthfully, Pippin wakes up first, and Merry stirs later to discover they’ve been left alone for now. He calls out to Treebeard with no response, and then finds Pippin seated next to a fountain near where they had been sleeping. Pippin shares a dream he had the night before, about how he and Merry had found two barrels full of pipeweed, and they each smoked all of their barrels until Merry got sick. Here the rascally old nature of these two hobbits returns, now that they’re in a safe and secure place, and it forces them to reflect on how they miss their home and their pipes.

Merry, however, starts to become alarmed when he hears noises coming from elsewhere in the woods, warning that some of the trees are wary of the hobbits’ presence. As the noises continue, however, he realizes that some of them aren’t coming from the trees: they’re coming from Pippin. Amazed, he implies that Pippin is speaking in the tree language. Pippin finds this idea ridiculous, but as he drinks water from the fountain using a stone saucer and a large goblet, he continues making these noises and appears to grow slightly taller. Merry notices this as well, and is alarmed to discover that Pippin is now taller than he is. Pippin, however, declares he’s always been taller, and as he argues with Merry it becomes clear that he’s aware of the tricks he’s pulling. Merry suspects it has something to do with the water, so he grabs the goblet from Pippin to start gulping it down. Pippin chases after him and tells him about a warning he received from Treebeard, and then their rascally nature gets them in trouble.

One of the trees grabs the hobbits by their feet using its roots and starts pulling them down into the ground. The hobbits struggle to get free, but the more they struggle the tighter the roots hold onto them, and soon they’re howling in pain and fright. Then they cannot move at all, and fallen leaves start to pile onto them to cover them up. After a few moments, the hobbits are completely submerged, and their calls for help can scarcely be heard. Luckily, Treebeard arrives just then to tell the tree to release them, and so the tree obeys and the hobbits scramble away towards the ent. This scene is another allusion the films make to the Old Forest section in the books, where something similar happened involving all four hobbits and Tom Bombadil arrived to rescue them. It also serves to show how dangerous the trees in Fangorn themselves are, and how quickly they can act when provoked, which serves as a set up for a later event in this film.

Treebeard scolds the tree for trying to take the hobbits and then picks them up to remain on his shoulder as before. He tells them that the forest is waking up, and it isn’t safe for hobbits to be wandering among the trees. As he takes them further into the forest, he goes on to say that the trees have grown wild and restless in recent years, and this is due to the fact that there are so few ents still living in Fangorn to look after them. When Pippin asks why there should be so few when they live so long, Treebeard explains that they ‘lost’ the entwives, and thus we can assume they can no longer reproduce, so their population is dwindling. Pippin mistakes his meaning by assuming the entwives died, and he asks how this happened, but Treebeard clarifies that the entwives were lost and they don’t know where to find them anymore. He asks if any entwives have been seen in the Shire, but neither hobbit can answer in the affirmative. Pippin wants to know what they look like, which seems like an odd question since one would imagine they don’t look too different from ents, but Treebeard forlornly replies that he no longer remembers what they look like, which implies that the entwives have been gone for many years at this point. This echoes back to the song Treebeard shared to them earlier, adding to the point that he greatly longs for the entwives to come home someday.

The King of the Golden Hall

The film once again shifts its focus back to the four companions Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf. After a long ride, they’ve arrived at Edoras, a walled city built on a large rock formation in the middle of the plains, and at the crest sits the Golden Hall of Meduseld, where King Theoden sits and presides over the Riddermark. Gandalf announces it to the other three companions, and as he speaks to let them know that Saruman’s hold over King Theoden is quite strong, the film cuts back into the hall for us to revisit the king and his niece Eowyn. She has come to inform him that his son Theodred has died of his wounds. She is clearly despondent as tears are in her eyes when she says this, but Theoden remains coldly still and unresponsive to the news. She calls him ‘my lord’ at first, then uses the term ‘uncle’ to try and glean some recognition from his eyes. She asks if he will go and see his son, but as he continues to stay silent she senses that there is very little of her uncle left in this decrepit old man. She can’t make sense of it, but we as the audience understand that this is all the result of Saruman having such terrible control of him. We wonder if he even perceives what she’s telling him, if he has any internal emotional response at all.

Returning to the companions, Gandalf tells the others that they will not be welcome guests here in Edoras, so they should remain on their guard. They ride on to the gates, and then we cut back to Eowyn in Meduseld. She’s returned to mourn for her cousin, and as she weeps over his body, she is joined by an unwanted visitor. Grima Wormtongue finds her there; with Eomer exiled, Theodred dead, and King Theoden utterly inert, now is his chance to make his move on her. He feigns contrition over Theodred’s death, and tries to relate to her by expressing his understanding for her difficult position, being so alone in this hard time. Eowyn, however, recoils from him during his attempt at consolation, calling him a snake. Grima’s demeanor begins to change, and he describes her lonesome state in a rather ominous manner before shifting gears to compliment her beauty as though to make clear his interest in her. Thus he offers himself as an alternative to her loneliness, willing to be by her side at a time when no one else is. Still, his attempts at flattery don’t sway her, and she says that his words are like poison to her before stealing away from him. She’s been suspect of Grima and his influence on her uncle, and thus she’s wise enough to know not to be seduced by his words.

Eowyn leaves the Golden Hall and stands on the stone parapet overlooking the rest of Edoras. Here she looks out to the plains beyond the walls and perhaps feels desperate in this darkest hour with no one left to depend on. As she looks, however, she sees a small group of riders heading for the front gate, as though arriving in answer to her unspoken prayers. Nevertheless, in a shot that wasn’t planned in the film’s script, the winds tear off the horse banner from the flagpole next to her, and it flies away down the rock formation out of the city. The next we see, the four companions arrive at the gate, and Aragorn sees as the banner as it falls to the ground, symbolizing the dire state these people have reached and how they’re about to give up hope.

The companions ride slowly through the streets of Edoras as various villagers look on with suspicion in their grim faces. Gimli remarks at how bereft of cheer this town is, so as to signal how desperately these people need the help of these mighty warriors. At length they arrive at the steps of the Golden Hall, but they are not yet allowed to enter. Hama, the doorward of Theoden, stops the four companions and tells them that, by order of Grima Wormtongue, no outsiders will be allowed before the king carrying weapons. This of course reinforces once again how much power Grima has accumulated here in Theoden’s place, and that essentially Saruman is set to rule Rohan through him. Hama does not seem surprised to see Gandalf, and he calls him ‘Greyhame’, so we must assume that news of Gandalf’s death had not reached all Middle-Earth, and most of the world still knows him as Gandalf the Grey. Gandalf agrees and nods at his companions to give up their weapons, so they unsheathe their swords, axes, and bows and hand them over. It’s worth noting that at this moment in the book, Aragorn is carrying the reforged Anduril and is very stingy about giving it up, but here in the film he still only carries a ranger’s sword, so he doesn’t put up a fuss. No one here will recognize him yet as the rightful king of Gondor aside from his companions.

Gandalf, however, elects not to give up his staff, and he makes the excuse that, as an old man, he relies on his walking stick. Hama, not wanting to be impolite, allows him to keep the staff, which is of course crucial to the next scene: the staff is the focus of his magical powers, and without it there is much he cannot do. However, once the four have entered the Golden Hall, Gandalf starts to walk in such a way as not to draw attention to the fact that he’s carrying the staff, lest Grima easily notice it from a distance. They approach the dais where Theoden sits, and right beside him is Wormtongue, ready to give his twisted advice and reports. On either side there are men keeping pace with the companions as they approach, ready to strike if anyone acts out. Grima tells the king that Gandalf ‘the Grey’ has come, but doesn’t mention the others as I suppose none of them are considered important for now. Gandalf says aloud that King Theoden’s hall has become less courteous than he remembers, and to this Grima tells the king that Gandalf should not be welcome. At last King Theoden speaks, though his voice is very weary and his words are loyal to Grima’s advisories. He asks why Gandalf should be welcomed here, and then looks immediately to Grima as if for approval for what he’s said. Grima grants this, saying the question is just, then he turns to address Gandalf himself.

Grima tells him that he has arrived at a late hour, and he calls him a ‘conjuror’ rather dismissively, and he uses the term lathspell to indicate that Gandalf is only ever the bearer of bad news, and “ill news is an ill guest”. Gandalf will not stand for this slander; he tells Grima to be silent, implying that he has a forked tongue, and that Gandalf has not passed through ‘fire and death’ to waste his time bickering with someone as low as Grima Wormtongue. Then he holds up his staff in warning to Grima, and this alarms him greatly. Grima scolds his men for not taking Gandalf’s staff away, but when they try to seize it from him presently, the three others come forward to fight them off. Even without weapons, as we see, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are quite skilled at hand-to-hand combat, and do the task of protecting Gandalf from Grima’s henchmen quite handily. Interestingly, we see as one of the Rohan guards (Gamling, as we’ll learn later) starts to draw his sword, but Hama stops him. Evidently Hama isn’t Grima’s biggest fan, and might not particularly mind if someone were to come along and have away with him. None of the other armored men take action, either, so perhaps they were waiting on Hama’s command to stop the newcomers.

Gandalf keeps his focus on Theoden now while the fighting goes on around him in a somewhat humorous shot. He talks to him reverently and tells him that he’s been in the shadows for too long. Gimli goes to keep Grima pinned and warns him to keep still. Presently Gandalf beseeches the king to hearken to him, and he begins to try and use his magic to undo the spell Saruman has him under. Everyone in the hall gathers around to watch as the events unfold. In response, Theoden starts to cackle with laughter, and he tells Gandalf, once again calling him ‘the Grey’, that he will have no power here. Here, of course, Theoden is speaking Saruman’s mind, and so this sets up a confrontation between the two wizards indirectly. In response, Gandalf throws away his grey cloak and reveals that he wears all white underneath, and this stuns the king. Using his staff, Gandalf holds Theoden pinned to his seat, but he speaks to Saruman through him, telling him that he will be drawn out like poison from a wound. The effort appears to bring some suffering to King Theoden, though it’s possible he’s only reflecting what’s happening to Saruman at that moment.

Eowyn appears in the hall at that moment, and when she sees what is happening she tries to run to her uncle’s defense. Aragorn holds her back and tells her to wait. When Theoden speaks, we hear only Saruman’s voice, and he tells Gandalf that if he is dispelled, Theoden will die. Gandalf, however, does not believe Saruman will go that far, that because he once spared Gandalf, he will also spare Theoden to meet his fate another day. He continues to struggle against Saruman, while the wizard threatens by claiming that Rohan now belongs to him. With a final effort, Gandalf commands Saruman to be gone, and when Theoden lunges at him Gandalf forces with his staff to dispel Saruman at last. We see a visualization of this as some shots show Saruman in his tower having been thrown away onto the floor, beaten and bloodied. The curse is broken, and Gandalf has now proven for the first time that Saruman is no longer his superior, which will give the old white wizard something new to worry about. It’s a minor payoff to what was set up in their original confrontation in Fellowship, but the larger one comes at the beginning of the next film when they meet again face to face.

A weary Theoden presently begins to fall from his chair, so now Aragorn, recognizing that Gandalf’s work is done, releases Eowyn and she runs to catch him. In a moment of some stunning visual effects, we and Eowyn watch as the age and scraggly white hairs disappear from Theoden’s face, his eyes regain their color, and he turns decades younger before our very eyes. This of course symbolizes that he’s been freed of Saruman’s power, and is returned to the state he was before that power started to take hold on him. Of course, this would be incongruent with how long Saruman has been working for Sauron and how long he would’ve been manipulating Theoden through Grima, so perhaps we’re to assume that the poisonous effects of this magic worked quickly on Theoden over a short period of time. In this moment, Theoden sees his niece and for the first time that we see, he recognizes her and recalls her name. This brings glad tears to her eyes and she smiles, also for the first time we’ve seen.

Theoden then turns his eyes to Gandalf, his apparent savior in this situation, and Gandalf tells him to breathe the free air again. Theoden then stands on his own two feet, and everyone across the Golden Hall kneels in reverence. He declares that his dreams have been dark lately, implying the state of misery he’d been kept under while Saruman was in control. As he regards his hands, Gandalf states that perhaps he will feel as strong as he used to once he grasps his sword. In response, some Rohirrim men bring forth the sword, called Herugrim in the books, sheathed in its scabbard, and they hold it out so that Theoden can draw it. For a long moment Theoden looks the sword up and down, and as he does this he not only feels his strength returning, but he also considers how now to wield it. He turns his eyes to Grima, who is still being held by Gimli, and you can see the contempt in his eyes as he recognizes how all of this trouble was caused by him. Grima quivers, knowing how he has incurred the king’s wrath.

In the next scene we see Theoden’s guards throwing Grima out of the Golden Hall, and the wretched man stumbles down the stone steps as King Theoden follows him, Herugrim still in his hand. Grima then starts to plead for his life, saying that he only ever worked in Theoden’s service. But Theoden will not listen to this; he claims that he would’ve been reduced to crawling like a beast if Grima and Saruman had had their way. Grima asks the king not to send him from his sight, which I believe is another wording of asking to be spared despite his treachery. Still, Theoden has no intention of doing so, and he raises his sword for the killing blow. Aragorn, however, comes to stop this, and he tells Theoden that ‘enough blood has been spilled on Grima’s account’, essentially beseeching Theoden not to be the king who repays bloodshed with bloodshed, which reveals something about the kind of king Aragorn would be. This sentiment stays Theoden’s hand, and so Aragorn offers his hand to pull Grima up, only for Grima to spit in his hand and run while he can. He angrily tells the gathered crowd to move when he passes them, showing how ungrateful he is to be left alive despite the good will shown him. We also see him riding away from Edoras on horseback, an important bit of connective tissue for a later scene.

The gathered crowd still looks stunned to be witnessing such events, but Aragorn raises his voice to honor the king so that all will kneel, including himself. Theoden looks all around as he sees his people inspired to be laying eyes on him again for what may be the first time in quite a while, but his eyes are searching for one he cannot find. He asks where his son Theodred is, thus cluing us to the fact that none of the information Eomer or Eowyn shared with him while he was under the spell registered in his mind; evidently, his ears were only open to Grima’s words. In the next scene, we see as Theodred is laid to rest in the barrows outside Edoras, finally given the funeral he earned after falling to defend Rohan. All of Edoras is gathered to pay their respects, while the fallen warrior is carried by four men and the lady Eowyn sings a song to mourn his death. This is one of the few instances in the films to reveal to the audience that the men of Rohan have their own language, and Eowyn uses that tongue in the song she sings, while we can see others behind her mouthing the words. Theoden remains stoic and composed for now.

Next we see as Theoden has remained over his son’s grave following the funeral, and Gandalf is there with him. He talks about how the Simbelmyne flowers which have grown on the graves of his forefathers now cover the grave of his son. He laments about the dark times he lives in, watching the young perish while the old live on, and that he lives to see his family name come to an end. Gandalf senses in his tone that Theoden blames himself for this, allowing himself to be taken under Saruman’s power, and so he assures him that none of this was his fault. Despite this, Theoden is inconsolable, deeply burdened by the tragedy of a parent burying their child. He begins to weep, and so Gandalf offers more words of encouragement, implying that Theodred’s strength in life will earn him the right to live on in the halls of their forefathers. He also adds something else in the Rohirrim tongue: “Westu hal, Ferthu Theoden”, which essentially is intended as a blessing and a wish for good health, thus showing the earnestness of Gandalf’s intentions as he uses their language.

Theoden continues to weep freely, so Gandalf starts to walk away to let him be alone, when he catches sight of a rider approaching over the hills. Two riders, actually, on a single horse. The daughter and son which we were introduced to earlier in the film, fleeing from the Westfold village before Saruman’s forces could burn it, have finally arrived at Edoras. The son falls from the horse, evidently quite weary from travel as it’s possible they’ve been riding nonstop since their village was attacked. It’s the kind of thing the audience could’ve easily forgotten about or previously dismissed as an attempt to connect us to the carnage, but now it weaves directly into the quest of the main characters. It’s a call to action; the Westfold has burned, the villagers are suffering, and now that Theoden has been freed from his curse, he must lead his people again and take Rohan back.

The two children are brought safely to the Golden Hall where they are given food, and the companions have gathered here with King Theoden to discuss their plans. Eowyn reminds her king, since it’s likely the information was not heard before, how these villagers were attacked without warning and had no means of defending themselves. Now the forces of Saruman run freely across the Mark, orcs and Uruk-hai along with bands of wild men. The little girl asks where her mother is, since as we saw the mother promised to meet them at Edoras and apparently isn’t here, but Eowyn simply shushes her. Gandalf assures Theoden that much worse will come to Rohan if Saruman is not opposed, so he advises the king to stand and fight. To add to this, Aragorn reminds the king that he has good soldiers riding north under Eomer (he says two thousand of them, but there certainly weren’t that many when Aragorn and co. encountered them earlier), and he claims that Eomer is still loyal to the king despite being exiled and will return if called upon.

At last Theoden stands to speak. He says that Eomer cannot help right now, since he is hundreds of leagues away (something else he likely blames himself for). He acknowledges what Gandalf and Aragorn wish to do, but he is hesitant about letting his people continue to suffer in a war they are not prepared to fight. Aragorn, however, insists that that war is already upon him, regardless of whether he would risk it. Theoden isn’t pleased with being talked down to in this way, and apparently Eowyn doesn’t like Aragorn’s tone either from how she looks at him. Theoden reminds Aragorn that he is still in charge of Rohan, no matter if Aragorn rightfully rules Gondor. Gimli and Legolas have nothing to contribute to all this; the dwarf is just sitting enjoying a meal and some ale, and he breaks the awkward silence with a burp. Presently Gandalf implores the king to make a decision, since their time is running short. The camera stays on Theoden for a moment as he considers his options.

We learn of the king’s decision as we see Hama ordering the villagers of Edoras to leave town and make for the fortress of Helm’s Deep. He adds that they must only take what provisions they need, and leave everything else behind. The villagers look and sound troubled at this news, which leaves us to wonder about this Helm’s Deep and why Theoden should want to go there. We get filled in by our familiar companions as Gimli sounds agitated that the king would flee to the mountains rather than facing Saruman’s forces head on, but Aragorn defends this decision by saying that Theoden is doing what he believes is best for his people. Still, we learn through Gandalf that once the people of Rohan are behind the walls of Helm’s Deep, there’s no way out aside from the front gates, so they could become trapped there if attacked. Gandalf fears this outcome, so he has decided to take other measures while everyone else travels to the fortress.

We get a sentimental moment from Gandalf as he, Aragorn, and Gimli come to the stables, and he prepares Shadowfax for the road ahead. He reflects that he was once called the Grey Pilgrim, that he’s been alive for the lifetimes of three hundred men, and now, in the most desperate times for men, his time is so short. You get the sense that he’s come to miss the old days when he could wander the lands freely and tend to the different people’s troubles, as he now cannot afford to deviate from his urgent mission. As he mounts Shadowfax, he leaves final instructions to Aragorn by telling him that he will return in three days, and on the dawn of that third day, Aragorn can look to the east to find him. He is firm that Aragorn must see to it that the defense of Helm’s Deep hold for that long, which is an early warning that Saruman is planning a major attack if a fortress in the mountains could possibly be taken in such a short time. This is in line with Saruman’s earlier orders to have his army fully armed in two weeks, and that he resorted to burning Fangorn Forest to see it done.

Aragorn promises that the defenses will hold, and so with that trust placed in Aragorn, Gandalf rides from the stables and out from Edoras, not to be seen again until the ending of the film. This moment is subtle but significant to Aragorn; his quest up until now has been to aid Frodo’s quest to Mordor and preserve the Fellowship as he can, but now he’s taken up the calling which he promised to Boromir, to fight alongside men and not let their people fail. Rohan is not his country, but the men who live there are still his people, and they need his help if the race of men as a whole are to have any hope in the War of the Ring. As a way to illustrate this, in the next scene we see a horse elsewhere in the stables thrashing and struggling madly against the men working to restrain him. When Aragorn approaches, he’s told that this horse is half-mad and should be left alone. Considering that we soon learn that this was Theodred’s horse, it’s understandable why it should be upset, and why it would be difficult for another, less experienced rider to tame.

But Aragorn doesn’t balk in the presence of this beast. We hear him quietly muttering words in elvish to calm the horse down, and he takes the rope tied to the horse’s bridle to help control its anger. The horse resists him at first, but gradually as he continues speaking we can see its temper getting soothed, and it stops thrashing and whickering. Aragorn takes the straps from the other men to show that he’s gotten a handle on this situation, and they look at him in amazement as he unties the ropes to let the horse free. Aragorn pets the horse on its brow, and we can see a kindling connection between these two. Eowyn, who’s been watching all this happen, calls out to let him know the horse’s name, Brego, and who it used to belong to. Aragorn seems to respect the name, claiming it is a kingly name, and thus Brego is potentially worthy of a king to ride.

Eowyn approaches him, and we can see in her look the first hints of her enthrallment with Aragorn. She notes that it’s strange to see the magic of elves being worked by a ranger, to which Aragorn shares that he was raised in Rivendell, and thus the ways of the elves are second nature to him. He tells her to turn Brego free, that he’s ‘seen enough of war’, which is ironic considering the role Brego will play in Aragorn’s journey going forward. Presumably Eowyn does this, but it’s unclear whether Brego is still among the horses traveling with the people of Edoras to Helm’s Deep, or if he wandered off into the plains of Rohan and came to find Aragorn again in his time of need. If the latter is true, Aragorn still has the horse originally given to him by Eomer for the fight against the warg-riders.

We are then brought back to Isengard, where we can see in an establishing shot that the forges are busy, the lands around the ring of Isengard are scorched and barren, and a rider hastens across the path towards the tower. Saruman paces around the Palantir chamber uncertainly and angrily, as he faces the new reality that Gandalf has returned to oppose him and may be even more powerful now than he is. He sounds sore about his defeat with Theoden, and he supposes that Gandalf’s newfound urgency and ‘piety’ is an attempt to humble him, whereas before Saruman had been the noble, lordly wizard while Gandalf was the wandering pilgrim whose mind was slowed by hobbit pipeweed. Grima appears in the chamber, and he informs Saruman that Gandalf was accompanied in Edoras by a dwarf, an elf, and a man. Saruman derides Grima at first for his stink of horse, given that Grima likely had a long ride from Edoras to get here, but he then becomes curious about the man Grima mentioned.

He asks if this man was from Gondor, which suggests that Saruman might’ve known about Boromir as a companion in the Fellowship, and this would be supported by the fact that Boromir would’ve likely crossed the Gap of Rohan and the river Isen on his way to Rivendell. But Grima tells him that this man came from the north, a Dunedain ranger with worn and tattered clothes that wore a strange ring. It’s interesting that Grima takes such notice of this ring, since in the films up to this point Jackson doesn’t make much of a point to focus on the ring Aragorn has been wearing, and yet it has been there the whole time. It goes to show how Grima can be useful and resourceful, paying close attention to those he encounters, and he describes Aragorn’s ring in detail so that Saruman might be able to identify it.

And Saruman does, in fact, as he goes into his library to look up an image of the ring Grima describes. It is the Ring of Barahir, whose significance we only learn as Saruman ties it to the heir of Numenor; an heirloom of the throne of Gondor. Despite this clue, Saruman dismisses this information out of hand, saying that Gandalf is a fool to think he’s found Isildur’s Heir. He says that the line was broken long ago, but there’s a hint of doubt in his voice. This is also interesting to consider, that Gandalf knew of Aragorn’s secret lineage all this time whereas his master did not. Why would Gandalf have withheld this information before, in the time he trusted and served Saruman? But Saruman believes it doesn’t matter either way. He claims the world of men will fall to him and Sauron, and it will start in Rohan with the campaign he has already begun.

In the meantime of all this, the people of Edoras have been preparing for the long journey ahead, and are now starting to leave. In the Golden Hall, Theoden tells one of his guardsmen, Gamling, to prepare his horse. As Gamling walks away, Theoden must sense some dread and gloominess in his manner, so he tries to reassure him by saying that this venture is not a sign of their defeat, and they will indeed return from Helm’s Deep. Gamling nods, but as he leaves and Theoden repeats this line to himself, you get the sense that he’s trying to reassure himself as much as anyone else. He fears that his taking action now is coming too late to save his people, and his insecurity as the king of Rohan is further supported in scenes to come. He worries that he has failed his people, and will not live up to the legacy of his forefathers.

Elsewhere in the hall, as various weapons and other items are being packed away, we find Eowyn as she draws out a sword and starts swinging it about and practicing her stance. She seems to be pleased and empowered holding a weapon in her hand, as she doesn’t often get the chance to wield a sword, and thus we learn that she aspires to be a warrior, and not simply a noble lady of Rohan. Aragorn finds her practicing and approaches her from behind, and when she turns with her sword she blocks his curved knife from Lothlorien. Evidently Aragorn is testing her sense of her surroundings and her reflexes, and he seems impressed that she moved so deftly. He compliments her skill, and she slides out of the block and holds her sword threateningly towards him, as further proof that she knows what she’s doing.

When she puts the sword back in its sheath, she explains that the women of Rohan have long known that they may die by the sword as easily as men, and thus they learn to protect themselves. Eowyn, however, claims that she doesn’t fear death or pain, which prompts Aragorn to ask what it is that she does fear. She replies rather confidently that she fears being put in a cage, to be kept trapped behind bars where she cannot help those she loves and fight for her kingdom. In such a situation, it wouldn’t matter how strong or brave one could be, or how much pain they could tolerate. This is a strong reflection of Eowyn’s values as a character, and it’s an important detail to establish about her in the events to come as she is constantly putting herself forward to take part in the wars of men. But it is also reinforced by previous scenes we’ve seen with her, watching her uncle deteriorate in a cage of his own, trapped and ineffective while under Saruman’s curse. She’s seen the terrible things that can result from this, and she knows the pain it can inflict on others to be utterly cut off from them.

We learn a lot about Eowyn in just this short scene, and consequently Aragorn does as well. He sees valor and honor in her and seems to be moved by the strength in her character, and so he offers words of encouragement. He tells her that she is of royal blood, a shieldmaiden of Rohan, and because of her valiance she is not likely to meet such a cruel fate. With that he takes his leave, and we can see in Eowyn’s eyes that these were the words she needed to hear, and this kindles her affection for Aragorn even further.

From this point, we see as Edoras is emptied and its people travel in a long line through the plains to the south. The crowd is made up mostly of peasants and farmers, some of them bringing along animals and carts loaded with supplies, and there are not many soldiers to protect this caravan. As we watch this, we hear Grima speaking again as he predicts King Theoden’s actions while he advises Saruman at Isengard. He tells the wizard that Theoden will order his people to take refuge at Helm’s Deep, but for the duration of their travel they will be moving slowly, making the moment ripe for ambush. When Grima mentions that women and children will be among the villagers, Saruman seems pleased and inspired to take action. The next that we see, he has gone down into the caverns of Isengard to find one of his orc commanders. The orc is seated next to a wide pit where some ravenous creatures are brawling, and Saruman tells the orc to send out his ‘warg-riders’. Those who are not familiar with the source material will not yet know what this means, but they can deduce that the beasts in the pit must be the wargs, and Saruman intends to harry the approach to Helm’s Deep by sending his cavalry. The orc, who is unnamed in the film but is identified as Sharku by expanded material, grins at the promise of a fight, and now the tension is raised again as the people of Rohan face a new threat on the road.

Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit            

We then return to Frodo, Sam, and Gollum as they’ve left the barren and empty lands and have entered into a more forested region. The two hobbits follow Gollum as he desperately tries to catch fish in a running stream, but the fish seems too quick and slippery for him to hold onto. Given that he didn’t have anything substantial to eat in the Dead Marshes, we can understand that Gollum must be especially hungry and is glad to be reaching more forgiving territory where there’s more to hunt. But as he clambers forward trying to catch fish, Sam calls him ‘Stinker’ and warns him not to get too far ahead of them. Here Frodo steps forward and defends Gollum from Sam, asking why Sam must call him names and be so cruel to him all the time. Sam seems repulsed that Frodo should even ask, and he shows his ignorance of Gollum’s character, saying there’s nothing left to him aside from his desire to get the ring back.

Frodo tries to enlighten Sam, telling him that he has no idea how the ring has treated Gollum, and how it continues to torment him. As he steps forward with a compassionate look at their guide, who’s still empty-handed trying to catch fish, it’s clear to Sam that Frodo’s initial pity for Gollum has grown into more substantial care. Frodo says he wants to help Gollum, because he has to believe that Gollum can be redeemed. If Gollum can’t be saved, it doesn’t bode well for anyone else who bears the ring, and Frodo could easily find himself turning into such a wretched creature as well. It clarifies to Sam why Frodo’s had this divided trust between him and Gollum, and understanding Frodo’s meaning he still tries to tell him that Gollum is too far gone. To this Frodo snaps at him, telling him he knows nothing about what he’s talking about. It’s the first time we see Frodo be so quick to anger, and it’s as unsettling to the audience as it is to Sam. But he just slowly walks past Frodo as though not to acknowledge the remark, and there’s look of disappointment on his face.

Frodo quickly realizes his fault, and looking down ashamedly he apologizes and says he doesn’t know why he said such a thing. Sam turns and he says he thinks it’s the ring that’s doing this; it’s starting to have an effect on Frodo’s personality and mood, making him not only short-tempered but also disconnected and resilient to eating or sleeping. Sam implies that he’s worried the ring has taken a hold of Frodo, and he needs to fight it back. But Frodo gets angry again and defensive, and he says he knows what to do and that handling the ring is his task, and his alone. Using the words ‘mine, my own!’, he likens himself to Gollum and his possessiveness of the ring, which Sam points out with some concern. Frodo doesn’t respond; he just walks ahead and tries to ignore Sam. That initial rift between these two characters from the Black Gate has already grown wider, and for the moment it seems Sam is the only one invested in repairing it. This might seem out of character for Frodo, but we’ve seen how the ring can change good-natured characters like Bilbo and Boromir before, and it’s only now that Frodo’s started to lash out like this, after the ring has become heavier and after such a long time of his being resilient to it, which actually speaks to the strength of his character.

Some time later, as the hobbits are sleeping in the woods of Ithilien, Gollum is talking to himself again. His internal conflict of desiring the ring and being befriended by Frodo has started to clash his split personalities against each other. The more devious side, being Gollum, prioritizes getting the precious back at all costs, and is still bitter about how Baggins once stole his precious and judges Frodo the same as his uncle. But the other side, which Frodo connected to by naming him Smeagol, thinks that Frodo isn’t ‘tricksy and false’ like Bilbo. The camera stays on Gollum’s face throughout, but it moves back and forth as each side of his personality speaks and the darker and lighter backgrounds match his changing demeanor. Gollum tries to convince himself that Frodo will trick and lie to him, betraying the fragile trust that’s been built up over their journey from Emyn Muil, but Smeagol claims that Frodo, his master, has become a friend to him. Gollum says that he has no friends and no one likes him, to which Smeagol tries to block him out by refusing to listen. Gollum persists, reminding himself that he’s a liar, a thief, and a murderer. This recollection seems to be painful for Smeagol, and thus it leaves the audience with questions about his history, who this person was that Smeagol killed. This of course gets cleared up in the prologue of the next film, but for those who aren’t book readers and are getting his story for the first time through the movies, this adds another layer to Gollum. He killed someone, perhaps someone close to him, and it haunts him.

Bitterly Smeagol tries to tell Gollum to go away and leave him alone, even declaring that he hates Gollum, this darker side to himself that he can’t be rid of. Gollum laughs at the idea of being told to go away, and he angrily tells Smeagol that the only reason they’re still alive is because of him. This is interesting to think about, since it implies that Gollum’s ferocity and cutthroat nature kept him alive at a time when he was cast out from his homeland and the minions of Sauron hunted him, but it also implies that Gollum’s obsession with the ring, which as we know is responsible for prolonging his life, has kept him alive for hundreds of years. Gollum would’ve died long ago if not for his precious. Despite having his life torn apart by this thing, we’re given another reason why it would be so precious to him. Even so, Smeagol declares that he doesn’t need Gollum anymore, since his master is looking after him now, and he doesn’t need this conniving darker side of himself to survive. He then tries to banish Gollum from his mind, again telling him to leave, and adding that he must never come back.

This enrages Gollum further, and he refuses to go, but Smeagol tells him again and again, with greater conviction and excitement, to leave. He continues until Gollum ceases to respond, and we see as he looks around, seemingly searching his mind, that he has finally found relief. He was successful in banishing his darker half, and as he realizes this Smeagol is overjoyed, declaring that he is free. It’s interesting to note that we understand this because we see Smeagol from the side that has been, up to this point, portraying Gollum against the darker background, but now Smeagol has full control and maintains his positive attitude even when shown against a different backdrop.

In the next scene, we can quickly tell that Smeagol is a changed person. The following day, as the two hobbits are getting ready to eat, Smeagol returns from hunting and presents the two hobbits with some rabbits he caught. He’s very excited to be helping them, and he talks up his catches by describing how tender and juicy they will be, all while dancing happily and giddily laughing to himself. Frodo and Sam seem surprised by his new attitude, but Smeagol’s wilder way of living still dictates how he eats. He breaks the backs of the two rabbits, which startles Frodo, and then he encourages the hobbits to eat them raw, while he helps himself by ravenously biting into one rabbit and tearing its flesh with his teeth. Sam won’t stand for this, and he takes the two rabbits away from Smeagol before he can continue sickening Frodo with his methods. He declares that there’s only one way that a ‘brace of conies’ should be eaten.

It isn’t at all to Smeagol’s liking. We then see Sam preparing a stew with his cooking gear that he’s lugged all the way from the Shire, while Smeagol looks on howling with disdain. One might ask if Sam’s using some of that special salt he mentioned in the opening scenes for this occasion, and it would make sense given that the hobbits probably haven’t enjoyed a hearty meal like this in some time, though the film doesn’t confirm this. Anyway, Smeagol complains and berates Sam for ‘ruining’ the meat he caught by cooking it up, and he calls Sam a ‘stupid fat hobbit’, with the term ‘fat hobbit’ being how he refers to Sam throughout this film and the next. He fears Sam but never takes a liking to him, and even as Smeagol he seems to prefer insulting him the same way that Sam does to him. Sam replies that there’s hardly any meat to ruin even on two rabbits, and as Smeagol pouts and grouses like a child who’s not getting his way, Sam wishes that they had some ‘taters’ to go with their meal. Smeagol asks what he means by ‘taters’ with some animosity in his voice, and rather impatiently Sam spells it out as potatoes, sounding out each syllable in a pretty comedic moment. Smeagol only sounds more disgusted as Sam describes how he’d prepare the taters, throwing them into the stew and frying up some fish and chips. Sam implies that even Smeagol couldn’t resist a meal as tasty as that, but Smeagol is clear that he only likes his meat raw and wriggling, and Sam can keep his ‘nasty chips’. Sam tells Smeagol that he’s hopeless, which of course reinforces his view on Smeagol, or moreover Gollum as he still sees him, in general, despite that this is the most personable exchange these two characters have had up to this point. Their banter in this scene is almost friendly, and you can start to see Sam warming up to Smeagol even while Smeagol is bitter at him for ruining their food.

Throughout this scene, however, Frodo becomes distracted by noises he’s hearing coming from outside their camp, and he wanders off to investigate. They sound like they could be animal noises at first, but Frodo knows at this point in his journey that he must be wary of every potential threat to his mission. He’s gone from their camp for a short while before Sam or Smeagol notice he’s missing, and then they go and search for him. When they find him, they join him just in time to see an army of men moving through the nearby woodland. But these are not Gondorian or Rohirrim men; they wear a different sort of armor and have cowls wrapped around their heads, and carry a wide variety of weapons. Sam asks who they are, and Smeagol answers by saying that they’re wicked men, servants of Sauron, who are answering his call to war the same as the Easterlings the hobbits encountered at the Black Gate. These men are not Easterlings, however; instead they come from the south, a desert land called the Haradwaith, and thus are referred to either as the Haradrim or the Southrons. The film doesn’t explain this lore, same as the Easterlings, but it isn’t important to the plot; all that’s important is that it shows that Sauron has servants other than orcs and Ringwraiths, that some men have already been corrupted by him, and he’s building his army in Mordor for a war to come. Smeagol implies that this is a sign that Sauron will soon be ready to make this war, and it will be the war that ultimately covers Middle-Earth in his shadow. Once again it’s interesting to note that Smeagol is paying attention to these matters; whether or not he gets the ring back, the effects of Sauron’s conquest will reach him the same as any other free peoples, and so he dreads this war all the same.

Frodo says that they should get moving again, given new urgency by this information, but Sam stops him when he notices something incredible. After hearing a large bellow, a massive beast lunges into their view, an elephant about three or four times the size of any regular elephant, with enormous tusks adorned with spikes, carrying a war tower on its back which is packed with Southrons. Sam calls it an Oliphaunt, a colloquial term for a creature properly known as a Mumak. Soon a second Mumak steps into their view, and one of them lets out a trumpet sound with its trunk. They are essentially the heaviest of heavy cavalry, and the Southrons make use of them in wartime when necessary. Sam says that no one back in the Shire will believe it when they tell them they’ve seen real life Oliphaunts, and he and Frodo share a moment of wonder, an interim where in this grand and terrible adventure they’re allowed to witness incredible things they’d never have seen if they’d lived their whole lives in the Shire. It likely brings to Frodo’s mind Bilbo’s stories about the monsters he encountered during his journey to the Lonely Mountain, but even Bilbo never got to see Oliphaunts in his time.

At this point I wanted to point out something else interesting these films do concerning their mythical creatures, a form of set up and payoff by establishing these fantasy monsters before showing what they are capable of. The Mumakil are shown here for the first time in the story, but they don’t get to do much in the ensuing raid from the rangers. Instead we just have them in our mind as being a part of Sauron’s army, so that when they appear in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, we’ve already seen them and know to fear them when we get to finally see them in action. In the same way, we get several warnings and clues about the Balrog in Fellowship before Gandalf ever faces it, and we see the birth of Saruman’s first Uruk-Hai, Lurtz, and get a sense of how vicious they are compared to the orcs before seeing them in battle later. We see the Ringwraiths leaving Minas Morgul and hunting down Frodo for some time before they ever get the chance to harm him directly, and we see from how seriously some of the other characters take them and how much they frighten hobbits of the Shire leading up to those first encounters. Trolls are first established by the stone trolls the hobbits and Aragorn see after Weathertop to give us a sense of their size before we meet the Cave Troll in Moria, and later see other trolls at the Siege of Gondor. The Warg set-up is a bit rushed, with Saruman deciding to send his riders after the Rohirrim on their journey to Helm’s Deep, but we do get glimpses of their shadows as they fight in the pit, giving us a warning of how large and vicious they are. We will also see that Shelob is built up as being this ‘dark terror’ dwelling in the passage that Frodo and Sam are heading to, frequently warned about before Frodo finally enters her lair and sees the webs and various prey stuck there. Even the Eagles are established when Gandalf escapes Isengard, and then return in the eleventh hour to fight the Ringwraiths at the Black Gate. The one exception I can think of to this pattern is the Watcher in the Water, which shows up when the Fellowship reaches Moria and is never set up or touched on again. I think this is a neat and efficient way to build up the fantastical creatures in this world, having them exist in the minds of the characters and the audience as a looming threat or possibility as this vast world unfolds and they continue to venture into the unknown. It makes it so that the inclusion of these various creatures doesn’t seem random or arbitrary, but instead that they obstacles we know to watch out for, and it helps that characters tend to know about these creatures before seeing them.

Moving on, Frodo again notices the same sounds he’d heard earlier, sounds that he’s still not sure whether they’re natural or not. When Smeagol hears them, however, he starts to back away nervously, leaving the two hobbits behind. Frodo notices that he’s gone, but only a moment before the scene in front of them changes. The army of Southrons has come under attack, and arrows are flying from various points all around them. The hobbits can see men in green cloaks firing from different vantage points throughout the scene, and clearly the Southrons have been caught by surprise and don’t see their attackers, since they are fleeing or else being quickly wiped out. The Mumakil start to stampede away as well, while the men riding them take fire and start to fall from the towers. We get a closer look at one of the attacking men taking aim and firing, and we can assume from the framing of the shot that his arrow hit its mark and killed one of the Southrons, the one that fell from the Mumak war tower and hit the ground not far away from Frodo and Sam. This scene establishes that this man and his companions are cunning strategists and highly skilled with the bow, which gives us a clue at the enduring strength and competency of Gondorian men in their war with Sauron and his servants, though we don’t yet know that these men are from Gondor. They seem better prepared for the war to come than their kindred in Rohan, and are able to use their environment to their advantage.

With the dead man falling just next to them, Frodo concludes that they’re very much in danger and need to try and escape while they can. He hurries back towards their camp, while Sam remains in place still awestruck by the things he’s witnessed. Frodo does not get far, however, before some of the same men in green cloaks arrive and seize him. When Sam sees this, he draws his sword and starts to rush to Frodo’s aid, but then he gets knocked to the ground by one of the men. Before he can get back up, a man holds a sword to his throat, and Frodo continues to be restrained. Knowing they’re beaten, Sam pleads that they be let go since they are only innocent travelers. It is then that the man we saw earlier steps forward, the same sullen and unfriendly look on his face. He claims there are no travelers coming through this land, only servants of the dark tower. Both hobbits know, of course, that they cannot divulge the true nature of their quest to strangers, even those who are clearly in conflict with Sauron. Frodo explains that they are bound to a secret errand, and those who oppose ‘the enemy’ would do best to leave them to their task.

The man, who appears to be the leader of the group, takes notice of Frodo’s use of the phrase ‘the enemy’, and he walks over to the Haradrim man he’d killed, and he turns him over so that he can see the dead man’s face. He tells Frodo that this man’s sense of duty was probably no less than what Frodo’s is, and immediately after meeting this ranger leader we get a strong character moment from him. As he looks with some remorse on the man he’s killed, he wonders aloud about details of this man: “what his name is, where he came from, what lies or promises led him on this long march from home, and whether he’d rather have stayed there, in peace.” It’s not often in this trilogy where our characters regard their enemies as being not so different from themselves, having wants and needs and moral dilemmas of their own. With the orcs and Uruk-hai, there’s no attempt made from the writers to humanize them, since they’re mostly used as grunts for our heroes to cut down in battle, and we’re not meant to feel bad about this. But with the men, the Southrons, the Easterlings, even the Dunlendings, we’re made to understand that they’ve been deceived and corrupted by the enemy, and otherwise might’ve been decent people. This is further supported by the idea that even good men, like Gondorians, can be corrupted by Sauron’s influence as well, and it’s interesting to consider that we don’t get many scenes where our heroes are battling any of these men. We only get glimpses of the Easterlings at the Siege of Gondor, we never see anyone fighting against the Dunlendings, and the Southrons only appear during the Mumakil charge at the Pelennor Fields, aggressively coming after our heroes and forcing them to defend themselves, aside from this scene. Perhaps the writers were trying to avoid providing mixed messages about the nature of men, and a scene like this which so strongly establishes a new character is important to uphold and not contradict later on.

Following this, the ranger leader declares bitterly that war will make corpses of them all, regardless of who considers who the enemy. He doesn’t want to have to fight like this, but he’s been left no choice, and it’s important to have Frodo and Sam recognize this so they will think twice later. The men cannot know for certain now who these hobbits are, whether they oppose Sauron or just claim to, so the leader orders they be taken captive, that their hands be bound and their eyes be covered. With this done, the first part of The Two Towers comes to an abrupt end.

Conclusion (Part I)

            Here in the first half of The Two Towers, there’s been a hell of a lot that’s been accomplished, which you would hope so considering that we’ve already covered the entire feature length of most other films. We’ve given attention to all our leading characters that remain from the fragmented Fellowship of the Ring as well as introduced several more, and we’ve introduced a new faction in Rohan with all its troubles and perils. There’s been a variety of new locations, and Jackson has done well in making sure that each new setting is distinct from the others we’ve already seen in order to give the audience an assured sense of forward progression to the journey. Characters whose development was only in its infancy at the end of Fellowship, like Merry, Pippin, Gimli, and Legolas, have grown significantly as they face new obstacles, and characters who were more firmly established, such as Frodo, Sam, Aragorn, and Gandalf are revealing new sides and aspects to themselves as the pressure of the coming war and the weight of their journey continues to weather them. Despite all this, and despite that the story has splintered off into multiple threads running at once, The Two Towers maintains the same steady pace as its predecessor, with the same attention to detail and the same care and wonder in its cinematography to allow this world to truly feel alive. As a film, I think it’s every bit as successful as Fellowship of the Ring, with just as much about it to pick apart and enjoy.

We’ll discuss more on where these characters are headed and why all the setups in this part are important as they lead into part 2, where the drama and action reach their climax and the stakes of this story are elevated to a larger scale. I realize I’ve gone quite long in this review as compared to my normal reviews, and even compared to my previous reviews on Fellowship, but I guess I’ve found there’s that much more to talk about, especially when you already have so much that’s established from a previous film. As such, I can’t promise that my review of Return of the King won’t be longer still, when there’ll be even more context to weigh in and the film itself is the longest of the three.  Even so, I look forward to digging in, but for now, I thank you for reading this far, and I hope you’ve been enjoying this series. Keep your eyes out for The Two Towers part 2!

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) – A retrospective analysis and review, Part 2

The Ring Goes South

My dear readers, if you’ve made it this far into my review of just the first movie in this trilogy, I must assume you’re in it for the long haul. I hope that at this point this review isn’t just reading as a synopsis of the films, since my intention is to analyze what’s happening and what’s being said and how it all services the story and characters, but just in case I’ve been getting long winded in expostulating the layout of these films scene by scene I will continue to try and improve this analysis as I move through it. My goal, after all, isn’t simply to recount the films; any of you can watch them at any time. My hope is instead to show readers some details about the script that they may not have recognized before in order to gain a new appreciation for these films. I’ve found, after watching them all dozens of times, that there are still details I pick up on with each viewing that I hadn’t noticed before, and I hope that my review sheds new light on different scenes for each of my readers as well.

Anyway, let’s get on with the show! We pick back up in part 2 with the Fellowship preparing to leave Rivendell on their long journey to Mordor, where the One Ring will be destroyed, and Middle-Earth will be saved and the dark lord Sauron destroyed forever. In the downtime before they leave, we find Aragorn in one of the gardens, clearing away leaves from a statue of a woman. Elrond joins him, and through his dialogue he alludes to Aragorn’s mother, who knew he’d be hunted all his life for being the heir of Gondor. We’re to assume the statue depicts Aragorn’s mother. As the journey ahead will take Aragorn south towards Gondor, Elrond must realize that Aragorn will soon face the choice to accept his calling or return to his life of exile. He tells Aragorn that the skill of the elves can reforge the sword of kings, that being the Shards of Narsil, but only Aragorn can wield that sword. Aragorn remains defiant, saying he does not want this responsibility. He recognizes that taking up the sword means accepting his duty as king, and using that sword to challenge Sauron and succeed where his forefathers failed. Elrond reminds him that he is the only one who can, leaving Aragorn to embark on this journey with very mixed feelings, and reminding the audience that there is more to this quest than the ultimate goal of destroying the ring.

Next we find Bilbo and Frodo in their final scene together in this film. Bilbo has taken the opportunity to pass down more of the items he obtained on his adventures to Frodo, namely his sword Sting, which is exceptionally light and will glow blue when orcs are near, and his coat of Mithril mail, which is also very light and can turn back any blade that strikes it. Both of these will prove very useful for Frodo throughout his journey. As Frodo begins to remove his shirt to try on the mail, Bilbo sees the ring hanging by a chain on Frodo’s neck, and instantly he’s struck with his old temptations to hold it again. Bilbo’s demeanor changes as he becomes very anxious, then when Frodo denies him, he lashes out and tries to seize it in one of the film’s most horrifying moments. Here he takes on a vicious voice and his eyes become wild, showing behavior similar to Gollum’s. Once again we see the dramatic effect the ring has on different characters; even after all this time separated from the ring, Bilbo is still helplessly drawn to it just by the sight of it, showing that he’s still a slave to the ring’s oppression even though it is no longer his burden. This would be very foreboding to Frodo as to what horrid effects it will have on him in the coming journey.

In a rather heartbreaking moment, Bilbo apologizes, recognizing that all that’s happened to Frodo is largely his fault for passing the ring onto him. He breaks down and weeps, and we as the audience are endeared and forgiving to him, as Frodo is, after such a sinister moment. Bilbo had a rash moment where he lost control of his emotions and regained his composure, quickly returning to the hobbit we know; a moment which is repeated with a certain other character later in this film. From here we rejoin with the whole fellowship as Elrond announces their departure from Rivendell. The company is fully armed and packed, and Elrond tells them that none of them are held by any bond or oath to go further than they wish, and he offers them the blessings of all free folk (notably excluding dwarves, as he specifically names elves and men). Gandalf then proclaims that the ring-bearer will lead them on, so Frodo takes the lead of the company and everyone else follows him out of the courtyard. Frodo asks Gandalf for directions quietly, so as not to undermine himself in front of everyone, and Gandalf offers his guidance with a gentle hand on Frodo’s shoulder. Before they are all gone, Aragorn looks back and sees Arwen, who looks to be on the brink of tears. They say nothing to each other; Aragorn likely believes this to be the last time he will ever see her, and Arwen knows her duty to be with her people and leave with them. This scene can seem strange to viewers, having seen where they left off only a few scenes ago, but a later scene in The Two Towers, a flashback, recontextualizes this moment.

The Fellowship is now leaving Rivendell, and starts on the road southwards along the Misty Mountains. Here I’d like to point out that there are many people who pick Fellowship of the Ring to be their favorite among the three Lord of the Rings films. I think there are a lot of reasons for this, including the various character arcs and certain action sequences and emotional beats which are very well pulled off, but I’d also posit that another big reason would be just how much of Middle-Earth we get to see in this film, and it comes into focus in the current montage as we follow the fellowship’s first stretch after leaving Rivendell. In this film alone we see the Shire, Mordor, Bree, Rivendell, Eregion, the Misty Mountains, Isengard, Moria, Lothlorien, Amon Hen, Emyn Muil, and even glimpses of Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul. We see many wide shots of lush landscapes and beautiful natural environments, and we see several elaborately constructed sets, some of which are actually miniatures which were filmed in such a way to look much larger than they are. This all adds to the audience’s immersion into this world, seeing that Middle-Earth is a very real place and its various locations marked by different characteristics and cultural styles. Bree looks nothing like Rivendell, which looks nothing like Isengard, which looks nothing like the Shire, which looks nothing like Lothlorien, which looks nothing like Moria, and yet they all maintain a consistency to them and a conformity to the landscape around them that they are totally believable in appearance despite being fantastical. The use of miniatures and filters, as opposed to a reliance on CGI, only enhances this effect, especially considering that CGI in 2001 was not nearly as advanced as it is today. As a by-product of this, the visual effects of these films still hold up incredibly well today, only showing their age in a few spotty moments of more ambitious shots (such as large battles).

Of course, this all has very little to do with the writing and much more to do with direction. Our next scene where we settle is when the fellowship stops to make camp amid a rock formation, and Gandalf briefly narrates to describe to his companions, and to the audience, the route he intends to lead the fellowship; holding their course south for 40 days, taking the Gap of Rohan (an open area between the southern tip of the Misty Mountains and the northern mountains bordering Gondor) as they turn east, and then following that course towards Mordor. This is perhaps to illustrate his initial plans before gradually showing us that nothing about this plotted course goes the way Gandalf intends; the road ahead is treacherous. In this scene we see the first interactions between Boromir and the hobbits Merry and Pippin. This is a relationship that really flew under the radar for me for a while, and it’s a huge part of Boromir’s arc in this film. The first thing we see him do here is train Merry and Pippin in sword fighting, knowing they’ll need it if they encounter any of Sauron’s forces on the road. He and Aragorn offer pointers and encourage the hobbits, who are eating and trying to smoke even as they train. We see other members of the fellowship taking on their roles as well: Legolas is keeping watch, Sam is preparing food, and Gimli tries to offer an alternate route. He suggests meeting with his kin in the Mines of Moria, where he believes his cousin Balin will offer sanctuary to the fellowship. Gandalf outright refuses this idea, in such a way to suggest there is something in Moria that he greatly fears. In the shadow of this implication, we then see as Legolas catches sight of a strange cloud on the horizon, and soon Gandalf notices it too.

Boromir’s training of the hobbits turns playful as Merry and Pippin revert to their rascally nature and start to wrestle Boromir and Aragorn, showing how their relationship together has already been strengthened on this journey. But this moment is ended when Sam asks about the dark cloud that Legolas has been watching, gradually getting larger and changing shape. Boromir remarks that it’s moving against the wind, and soon Legolas sees the distinct shapes of birds, calling to the others that Crebain from Dunland are approaching. Here the audience may recall that Gandalf warned Frodo in the Shire about birds being used as spies for the enemy. To this everyone quickly hides and Sam douses the cooking fire. Shortly after everyone has taken their position, the flock of birds flies over the rock formation, swirling in place for a moment before returning the way they came. Once they are gone, everyone reemerges, and Gandalf declares that they were spies sent from Saruman. From this he recognizes that the company can no longer move directly south as he planned, since Saruman will be watching them the whole way, so he leads them instead into the mountains, through the snowy Pass of Caradhras.

As the Fellowship reaches the snowy drifts, they are brought to a sudden halt when Frodo stumbles and falls back a short distance, caught by Aragorn walking behind him. When he regains his footing, Frodo notices that the ring is no longer hanging around his neck, and he and Aragorn look ahead to see Boromir grabbing the shiny object gleaming in the snow. All eyes in the Fellowship watch the Gondorian closely, recalling how strongly he was tempted by the ring during the council. In this moment it looks as though Boromir will try to take it, as he holds it up close to his face and mutters to himself about how strange it is that something so small could be the cause of so much trouble in the world. Aragorn then demands he return the ring to Frodo, and we can see in Boromir’s response that he’s been broken out of some trance, where he’d been completely unconscious to all around him. Even he seems surprised at the effect the ring had on him. He reluctantly steps towards the hobbit and hands him the ring, saying he doesn’t care about it, but Frodo and Aragorn’s suspicious looks are telling. As he turns to go, we see a shot of Aragorn’s hand on his sword hilt, showing he was ready to strike if Boromir proved false in that moment, implying how little he trusts Boromir already.

We are then taken back to Isengard, following the flock of black birds, the Crebain, as they fly through the caverns where the orcs are forging and working the mud pits. Saruman is there, and the birds fly around him, and somehow he can understand their report. He knows now that Gandalf has turned the Fellowship towards Caradhras, and so he asks where Gandalf will turn if the mountain is too treacherous, alluding to the ‘more dangerous road’ of Moria. His words continue as we return to the Fellowship, and now they’ve reached a snowstorm as they move slowly through the mountains. Everyone is doing their best to dig through the heavy banks of snow, except Legolas, who we see is walking on top of the snow as light as a feather. We’ve gotten two hints now that Legolas, as the elven representative in the Fellowship, is a unique and valuable asset, with his far-seeing eyes and his light feet keeping him nimble. As he patrols the cliff, he hears a voice on the wind, and Gandalf hears it and declares it’s Saruman, realizing this snowstorm is the wizard’s making.

As he says this, the Fellowship becomes bombarded by falling rocks. Aragorn says they must all turn back, but Gandalf insists on pressing forward, and he starts using his own magic to try and ward off the storm. As we’ve seen before, however, Saruman remains Gandalf’s superior, and any attempt to break up his storm by Gandalf is no use. Saruman calls from the top of his tower, facing towards the Misty Mountains to the north, and dark clouds continue to pile on the horizon. Back in Caradhras, a bolt of lightning frees an even greater avalanche of falling rocks and snow, and the Fellowship becomes covered in it, including Legolas. For a moment all remains still, and we’re left to worry that the Fellowship has been defeated.

Legolas, however, light as he is, becomes the first to emerge from the snow, and soon his eight other companions all break free as well. Now the Fellowship begins to argue where they should go next: Boromir proposes they return to their course to the Gap of Rohan, and take the road from there to his city of Minas Tirith. But Aragorn says that road will take them too close to Isengard, and thus too close to Saruman. Gandalf remains silent for all of this, as Gimli then renews his proposal to go into the Mines of Moria. No one else responds; likely most of the Fellowship is unfamiliar with the place, but Gandalf is grim as he considers this, and he hears Saruman’s voice in his head. Saruman reminds him of what may be lurking in that place, and we can see as Saruman sits in his library going through a book. It seems a bit strange in the edit that Saruman is so quickly in his library when we just saw him at the top of his tower, but perhaps more time has passed than we’ve seen. Saruman’s book shows a picture of a great beast, a rather formless, fiery image, which he describes as ‘shadow and flame’. Now the audience gets a clue of why Gandalf was averse to the road of Moria, and we can empathize that the choice is very difficult for him.

Gandalf declares that as the ring-bearer, Frodo will be the one to decide. Frodo knows nothing about the potential dangers they face, so he is reluctant to speak. While he is silent, Boromir grows anxious, saying that if they stay for too long, it will be the death of the hobbits, thus showing his compassion for the weaker members of the Fellowship, and his bond to Merry and Pippin in particular as they are shown huddled for warmth in his arms. Ultimately Frodo decides that they will take the road to Moria, and Gandalf glumly accepts this. Despite his own wishes and wisdom contrasting with this decision, he trusts Frodo and believes in him.

The Mines of Moria

The Fellowship makes it safely down from the mountain and reaches a rather colorless landscape as they press towards Moria, and we can see remnants of some past civilization as an aquifer brings water down from the mountain. Gandalf and Frodo share a private moment as the company slows, with the wizard asking Frodo about his shoulder wound (from Weathertop) and the ring. Gandalf then warns Frodo that he must be careful now, that danger will come to Frodo from outside the Fellowship, and seeing how Boromir acted in Caradhras, danger will also come from within. Boromir could be only the first to be tempted by the ring. To this Frodo wonders who he can trust, and Gandalf tells him he must trust only himself, hinting that even he may be no match for the ring’s oppression, and that there are dangers on the road ahead which he may not be equipped to handle. He says this, of course, knowing fully well that such a threat could be waiting for him in Moria, so he must prepare Frodo now for the eventuality in which he may not be there to continue protecting him.

Gimli presently steps forward and declares that he’s found the walls of Moria, and the Fellowship marvels at their size. They continue forward, searching for the secret door into the mountain. Gimli says that when closed, dwarf doors are invisible, and Gandalf adds that even those who made them may lose them if their secrets are forgotten. Legolas makes a snide remark, showing his distaste for dwarven culture. Clearly he’s not excited to be taking this route, even at Gimli’s promise that it will be a safe haven like Rivendell. Gandalf then finds the door to Moria, noting how the carvings were made to reflect only starlight and moonlight. When the moon is clear of the clouds, the door begins to glow, its ornate markings unmistakable, the same we had seen in a picture in Saruman’s book earlier, taken precisely from an illustration from Tolkien in the novel. Gimli appears transfixed by the sight; this place is held very dear to his heart. Gandalf reads the text that’s been engraved in the door: it is the Door of Durin, Lord of Moria. “Speak ‘friend’ and enter”. Gandalf believes this means he must speak the secret password to meet a new friend, and the doors will magically open.

To his and everyone else’s disappointment, he tries this numerous times to no response. He laments that he once knew every spell in the tongues of men, elves, dwarves, even orcs. When Pippin asks what they are to do now, Gandalf is very prickly and singles the hobbit out for asking foolish questions, showing his impatient attitude toward Pippin in particular. It’s the first of many moments, not counting their first interaction at Bilbo’s party, to develop Gandalf and Pippin’s shaky friendship, which becomes stronger and more important as the story progresses. For now, as Gandalf has taken the role of essentially being the father figure of the Fellowship, Pippin is like the one neglected child, who craves validation and tries to be helpful, only to be scorned time and time again. Gandalf continues to try different spells and passwords, as the Fellowship settles in, expecting this may take all night. Some, like Gimli, start smoking their pipes to pass the time.

It’s at this time that Sam and Aragorn say a regretful goodbye to Bill the pony, knowing the mines will be no place for him to travel. Aragorn comforts Sam, assuring him that Bill knows the way back home, to Bree I suppose. I imagine this was preferable for the filmmakers to the book’s version of events, where Bill was taken and swallowed up by the forthcoming monster. As the Fellowship passes the time, Merry and Pippin restlessly start throwing rocks into the nearby lake, only for Aragorn to stop them. He gives them a stern warning not to disturb the water, which warrants the audience’s concern. Gandalf gives up on the password for now and sits down to think for a while, only for Frodo to stand up and start trying to puzzle out the password. As he does, we see waves start to ripple in the water, and both Aragorn and Boromir take notice; apparently Aragorn’s warning came a moment too late.

Frodo believes the password is actually a riddle: instead of interpreting it as “Speak, friend, and enter”, he guesses at the interpretation “Speak ‘friend’ and enter”, and he asks for the elvish word for friend. One would think Legolas or Aragorn might be the first to answer, given their fluency in the elvish language, but Gandalf responds with the word ‘mellon’, and the stone doors immediately open. The company stirs and everyone starts to make their way inside, greeted by halls which are utterly dark.

Gimli boasts to Legolas that soon he’ll be treated to dwarven hospitality: roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. However, as Gandalf uses his staff to light the darkness, the Fellowship makes a grim discovery; they are surrounded by corpses, many still with armor on them. Gimli is horrified and cries out, and Legolas notes from one of the arrows he finds that the massacre was done by goblins, and so he and the others begin to draw their weapons. From the earlier warnings, we as the audience aren’t surprised to find Moria is not the safe haven Gimli promised it would be, but it appears even more grim now, like a crypt (or a tomb, as Boromir calls it). Boromir again asserts that the Fellowship has no choice but to turn south and make for the Gap of Rohan, and this time no one opposes him.

Before they can leave, however, Frodo is suddenly grabbed by a large tentacle and pulled out of the doorway, and many more begin to emerge from the lake. The Fellowship comes back for his aid, with Sam, Aragorn, and Boromir hacking at the tentacles and Legolas firing his arrows with precision to ward off the beast. Frodo is hoisted high into the air, and as he is suspended there we are given the horrific image of a massive creature dwelling in the water. In the movie this monster is unnamed, but in the book it is referred to as the Watcher in the Water. After a struggle, Frodo is cut free from the watcher’s grasp, and it is Boromir who catches him, again looking out for the halflings at every occasion. Gandalf commands everyone to enter the mines, seeing that their escape has been cut off, and Legolas lets fly one final arrow into the beast’s eye. This enrages the creature, and so it climbs up almost onto the shore and begins to pull down the doorway. The Fellowship enters the mountain only just in time not to be crushed, but now the way out is blocked. As Gandalf declares, they are left with their only option being to proceed into Moria, and brave whatever dangers it presents until they come out the other side. It is an utterly dark cavern, so only the light from Gandalf’s staff can show them the way. Gandalf says also that there are ‘older and fouler things than orcs’ ahead. He refers to the monster of shadow and flame that we glimpsed earlier, but it’s not the only formidable beast the Fellowship will face.

The Fellowship presses on into the darkness, starting a journey that Gandalf says will take four days, and as the camera pans out we can see vast caverns and dark corners, which could be crawling with orcs and who knows what else. There’s not a dwarf other than Gimli in sight, but as the company proceeds we can see hints of their handiwork in the mountain: there are staircases carved into the stone, there’s a network of walkways and arches, and at one point the Fellowship reaches a mine shaft. Here Gandalf tells his companions that the dwarves came to Moria to mine for Mithril, rather than gold or jewels, and he lights up the shaft for everyone to see the work that had been done. The silvery gleam of Mithril still etched into the rocks and sparkling in the light is a marvelous sight to all the companions. Gandalf then shares that Bilbo Baggins once had a shirt made of Mithril rings, a gift from Thorin Oakenshield (another reference to The Hobbit). Gimli is particularly impressed by this, and Gandalf goes on to say that this shirt was more valuable than the whole of the Shire and everything in it. A bit of dramatic irony, considering that Frodo is currently wearing this shirt and no one else is aware of it.

The company soon reaches a fork in the road, and Gandalf is unsure how to proceed, so they’re forced to stop. Merry and Pippin remain restless and argue quietly, and complain about being hungry, their old hobbit comforts so far out of reach as they’re out of their element. Frodo then sees movement in the darkness below, and he hurries up next to Gandalf to report it. Gandalf doesn’t even turn; he knows without looking that Gollum is on their trail, and he has been for three days. It’s unclear, given the lack of sunlight, how much time has passed at this point under the mountain, but I think we’re meant to understand that Gollum has been following them since they entered Moria, since he couldn’t have entered after the watcher pulled the door down to rubble and we as the audience can recall from the prologue that the Misty Mountains have been his home for hundreds of years. In any case, Frodo is surprised and somewhat disturbed that Gollum, this figure from his uncle’s stories, is now closing in on him, the new ring-bearer. He wonders how this creature could’ve escaped from Barad-Dur, but Gandalf implies that he didn’t, that he was set loose instead. Perhaps Sauron knows that Gollum’s never-ending desire for the ring will draw him to it once he’s free, and if Gollum finds it he could be hunted down as well.

Gandalf understands that the ring isn’t done with Gollum yet, and he explains to Frodo that Gollum both loves the ring in his obsession and addiction to it, and he despises it for what it’s done to him. He reveals that Gollum was once named Smeagol, before the ring found him and drove him mad. Frodo rashly says that it’s a pity Bilbo never killed Gollum, but Gandalf explains that pity was the very reason for which Bilbo spared him; preventing him from harming this creature that had been torn apart by its obsession. Gandalf then gives Frodo a bit of a lesson in morality, warning him not to be so quick to judge others, especially those who have been victim’s of the ring’s oppression. The wizard goes on to imply that Bilbo’s actions regarding Gollum continue to reverberate all these years later, and Middle-Earth hangs in the balance.

This line of thought gives Frodo pause, as he recollects how all of this connects back to him, with the ring now as his burden as a result of all that came before. He laments this, wishing it had never come to him or Bilbo. Gandalf gives him quite the inspirational speech, telling him not to dwell on things he cannot change, and instead place his attention on the time he’s given and what to do with it. He says that there are forces for good at work as well, and that perhaps Bilbo was meant to find the ring, and by extension Frodo was also meant to inherit it. This is the last real character moment between these two, and probably their most significant, since it’s the moment that Frodo draws upon to give him courage when he makes the incredibly difficult and brave decision at the end of the film. It shows Frodo at his most vulnerable and unconfident, seeing himself as small and unprepared for the responsibility that’s been thrust upon him. But Gandalf again acts as the noble father figure, bringing courage in moments of doubt, letting Frodo find the strength within himself, and giving him new perspective for the bleak outlook the hobbit has on the great undertaking he’s accepted. It is him acting on his promise to help Frodo bear this burden, and it connects all the way back to their earliest moments together in the film, with Gandalf showing his inner warmth again and his great belief and pride in hobbits as a people, which he would hold in high regard after Bilbo’s many triumphs during his adventures. This is brilliant character writing, not only in its use to develop these two characters for where they are in the story presently, but also to inform later decisions they make as their arcs continue.

As the conversation concludes, Gandalf suddenly recognizes by the smell of the air that one of the directions ahead is the correct one, so he starts to lead the company again in that direction. Before long the Fellowship reaches a great opening, and Gandalf risks some more light from his staff in order to give his companions a better look at where they’ve arrived. He dubs it the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf, and the company is left speechless. Even Gimli’s jaw drops at the awesome sight, rows upon rows of massive stone pillars going on for miles into the dark, and a ceiling high above them. There’s a swelling of majestic and sad music, as we look on a lost civilization and the glory it once achieved so long ago, and we can only imagine how it was when dwarves ruled here. It’s another great moment in world-building, expanding on the past and leaving even Legolas somewhat marveled at the sight.

Balin’s Tomb

The journey through the dark continues, but as the nine walkers pass through the Dwarrowdelf chamber, Gimli sees a light shining into a small, separate chamber to the right, and in the center a gravestone as the focus of the light. He splits from the company and rushes into the chamber, and when he reads the inscription on the gravestone, he breaks down and begins to weep. Soon the rest of the Fellowship joins him, and Gandalf reads the inscription aloud: “Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria”, thus cinching any hope the Fellowship still had of finding dwarves here in the mountain, and we understand, since Gimli described Balin as his cousin earlier, why the dwarf would have such a devastated reaction. Gandalf removes his hat out of respect, then locates a book leaning against another corpse, likely a dwarf. He picks up the book and dusts off the pages as he starts to read the final account left by the dwarves in Moria, but Legolas grows impatient; the threat of goblins lurking in the dark returns to his mind after the discovery of Balin’s doom.

Gandalf begins to read from the book, and the Fellowship listens to every word, with even Gimli pausing to pay attention. It is grim reading; the dwarves clearly met with a dark end as hordes of foes in the mountain closed in around them, and drums were thundering in the deep to warn of the approaching armies. The dwarves were unable to escape, and there is mention of a shadow moving in the dark. Lastly, as the camera shows scribbled letters at the bottom of the page, Gandalf reads the foreboding line “They are coming,” and there is nothing more.

Throughout this reading, Pippin becomes distracted and finds the remains of an armored dwarf soldier just above a well, and as he fiddles with it, the skull falls and makes a loud noise as it knocks against the stone on its way down the well. Gandalf and everyone else turns and jumps at the sudden sound, then the rest of the corpse falls down the well, pulling with it some chains and an iron bucket, making an even greater clamor. The noise can be heard, as we’re shown the echoes throughout the mines of the mountain, from a long way away, and it goes on for some time, until one final crash. Pippin stands awkwardly silent, the look of sheer terror and guilt full on his face, with nothing to say to defend himself. The Fellowship is quiet for a long moment, waiting to hear any noise in response, but for now all seems well, and they breathe a sigh of relief.

Gandalf is, of course, furious, having already been short with Pippin earlier, and he calls Pippin a fool and tells him to throw himself in next time. It’s a bit harsh, and perhaps this moment is where their relationship is at an all time low, and it’s also where they’ll leave off by the end of this film, as we’ll soon see. As Gandalf turns to put the book away, we then hear the sound of a drum booming out from the well, and the tension of the scene returns. Gandalf slowly turns as the drumming continues, with this warning having come only just in time for them, and us the audience, to understand its meaning. We see the caverns of Moria again, as the drumming gets louder and faster, and with it the excited howl of denizens on their way. The Fellowship is alarmed by all this, and Sam calls Frodo’s attention to his new sword, Sting, which Bilbo said would glow blue if orcs were near. As he draws the blade, sure enough it is glowing bright blue, and so Legolas announces it to the others. In response, Boromir goes to the entrance of Balin’s Tomb and looks out, and he’s nearly stuck with two orc arrows (a neat bit of foreshadowing there).

Now the Fellowship must prepare for a fight, whether they can handle it or not. This is their first such encounter with enemy troops, though in the book they encountered a pack of wargs before they turned east to Caradhras. Aragorn tells the hobbits to stay back and remain near Gandalf. When he goes to help Boromir bar the doors, Boromir informs him that he saw a cave troll, thus raising the threat to the Fellowship beyond a rabble of orcs. They use old weapons to keep the door barred as the goblins start to try and break into the chamber, then a line is formed in front of the hobbits, with Legolas and Aragorn aiming with their bows. Gimli positions himself on top of Balin’s gravestone, growling as he vows vengeance for his fallen kindred. Frodo’s sword remains blue as he awaits the battle, though it’s worth noting that it doesn’t stay glowing while the fight is happening. I don’t know if it’s meant that once the orcs are close enough, the warning is no longer needed, but it’s not 100% consistent with how Sting responds in other instances of the trilogy when orcs (and Uruk-hai) get near. Return of the King contrasts with this a bit, once Frodo and Sam reach Cirith Ungol.

In any case, as the goblins are breaking through the door, we see Aragorn and Legolas get two direct hits through pretty small openings that were cut open, showing their accuracy and skill at range. Nevertheless, while the doors kept the goblins held up for a moment, they soon come bursting through and swarm in like insects. The moment they break in, the music stops, thus emphasizing the mindless terror that the goblins represent in this fight. Similar to the opening battle sequence, Jackson uses multiple close-ups of the orcs to show how hideous and vicious they are as they howl and hiss at their foes. They slam into the companions with their blades and shields, making an awful ruckus as more and more pile into the chamber. But, while there are many of them, the goblins are not trained soldiers like some members of the Fellowship, and they are shown to be cut down one after another, even by the hobbits.

Then, just as it seems that the Fellowship have a relative control of the battle, enter the cave troll. The sequence involving the troll has been greatly expanded from its brief cameo in the book, where Frodo stabbed it in the foot and forced it to retreat in pain before it even troubled the rest of the Fellowship. I think the reason for this is that the writers understand that the orcs are only a great threat to the Fellowship in large numbers, and even then the battle can stagnate with the enemy never gaining the upper hand. We’ve already seen the Fellowship start to manage the battle quickly as the goblins are cut down. Of course the writers could’ve invented a sort of chieftain that’s tougher than the rest of the goblins to make a more imposing villain, but the cave troll already existed in the source material. Having a large, hulking beast to threaten the companions so that they have to approach fighting it differently from the goblins not only achieves giving the battle extra tension and stakes, but also more balance and variety as the Fellowship must improvise to take it down.

The cave troll breaks a larger hole into the entrance with its hammer and roars loudly, and interestingly you can see as some goblins are holding a chain which connects to a leash around the troll’s neck, implying that it’s a tamed beast which they haul around for situations like this one. Legolas fires an arrow into the troll’s chest, and it cries in pain, but it appears that arrows won’t do much to slow it down as it immediately goes after Sam and tries to crush the hobbit with its hammer. Sam dodges, but the troll pursues him, and then tries to crush him underfoot. Then, we see as both Aragorn and Boromir have gotten hold of the troll’s chain, having slain the orcs previously holding it, and with all their strength are pulling it back to yank the beast back away from Sam. This shows their protectiveness of the hobbits and their awareness of the danger of all their companions even in such a hectic situation as this. The troll turns to give the men its attention, then grabs hold of the chain. Aragorn has let go, but Boromir still holds it as the troll slings him across the room with it, throwing him against the wall.

This probably should’ve killed Boromir, given how fast he was flung through the air and how hard he hits the wall, so that’s a minor issue. As we see, Boromir is winded and delirious and slow to get up, and he is approached by a particularly fierce looking goblin. In a pretty neat character moment, we then see as Aragorn pulls a short sword and throws it across the room into the goblin’s upper chest, and he nods at Boromir, showing him that he’s got his back. It’s very short, but it’s a significant growth in their mutual trust, considering how the two last interacted on Caradhras. I’d also like to point out that the sword Aragorn throws is the same one Frodo was holding on Weathertop, indicating that after Bilbo gave him Sting, Frodo gave the first sword back to Aragorn, which is a neat bit of trivia.

Gimli throws one of his hand axes at the troll, and it roars at him and uses its hammer to crush the tombstone he was standing on, as the dwarf jumps away just in time. The troll then goes after Gimli, swinging its hammer back and forth as it comically hits two goblins instead of Gimli. Then, in a moment similar to what we just saw with Aragorn and Boromir, we can see that Legolas fires a double shot at the troll just as its about to crush Gimli, showing that the elf will look after Gimli in the heat of battle despite their personal differences. Isn’t it cool that we can get character development throughout our action scenes without even realizing it? Gimli gets back up and continues fighting orcs, showing his endurance, then we cut to see as the cave troll turns its attention to Legolas, and starts to whip its chain at him from a distance. Legolas, of course, is nimble and dodges each strike; then, in his ingenuity, he seizes a moment as the chain catches on a pillar next to him, cat-walking across the chain to the troll’s head and firing down into it. Each film ups the ante for moments like this where Legolas gets to show off and represent the fluid skill of the elves in battle, but this is our first moment to truly appreciate his quick thinking and daring maneuvers. We then also Sam improvising as he and the other hobbits have gotten cornered off elsewhere in the room. He’s resorted to using frying pans to beat down the orcs, remarking that he’s starting to get the hang of this. It’s played for comedy, but it also shows that Sam’s getting battle tested and his confidence is growing.

However, we then see as the troll locates the three other hobbits as they try to flee to safety, and it brings down its hammer. It misses, but Frodo becomes separated from Merry and Pippin, and the troll goes after him. Aragorn sees this from a distance and starts to fight his way over to them. The troll and Frodo play a quick game of hide and seek as Frodo rotates around a pillar to avoid being seen, but the troll appears to have his scent. They go back and forth until they reach a moment where Frodo seems to be safe, then the troll surprises him on his right side and he falls back. Weirdly, you can see Merry and Pippin standing in the background in the space before the troll suddenly appears; I guess Merry and Pippin can’t see Frodo where he is and that’s why they don’t warn him that troll is coming? It’s a bit odd, and it’s also strange that they don’t try to cause a distraction to save Frodo once they see he’s in danger, but I guess that payoff is still forthcoming later in the film.

The cave troll has Frodo cornered and starts grabbing at him, and so Frodo calls for Aragorn’s help. Frodo cuts at the troll’s fingers with Sting, angering it so that it pulls out its hammer again. Aragorn then arrives just in time, and with a spear he’s obtained while fighting the goblins, he stabs the troll in the chest. In pain the troll cries out and drops its hammer, but it isn’t beaten yet. Merry and Pippin throw some rocks at it, but it doesn’t help much as the troll uses the spear to sling Aragorn away into the wall in much the same manner that it did to Boromir earlier. This actually knocks Aragorn out, and though Frodo runs to him to try and wake him up, the troll comes after him again, this time using the Aragorn’s spear that it’s pulled from its chest. Frodo doesn’t get far before he’s cornered again, and this time the troll stabs him full in the chest.

The whole battle comes to a standstill as different members of the Fellowship react to Frodo being wounded, and Frodo grimaces and groans in pain as he falls to the floor, dead by all appearances. Now Merry and Pippin are spurred into action, and they leap onto the troll’s back and stick it with their blades again and again. Sam and Boromir are enraged as well, slicing down the last of the orcs as the troll continues to fight on. Gimli, Gandalf, Legolas, and Boromir have the beast surrounded as the two hobbits continue irritating it. The elf waits with an arrow poised for the opportune moment, which Pippin provides with a painful strike, and then Legolas lets his arrow fly through the troll’s brain. This is the killing stroke, though the troll sort of mindlessly lumbers around for a few moments longer before falling dead. The battle is now won, but it appears to be at great cost; they’ve lost their ring-bearer.

The Fellowship gathers around Frodo lying still, with Aragorn having recovered and learning the situation. They are all despondent, but then as Aragorn starts to pull Frodo up, we can hear as Frodo makes a sound, another moan of pain, and Sam runs up to him full of hope. Frodo is still breathing, and pretty soon he’s sitting up on his own, and Sam announces to the others that he’s alive. Frodo says he’s not even hurt, and Aragorn is in disbelief, saying the spear the troll used would’ve ‘skewered a wild boar’. Then Gandalf approaches with a light in his eyes, having already figured out Frodo’s secret before everyone else. Frodo unbuttons his shirt, revealing to the others the Mithril coat that Bilbo had given him, ‘as hard as dragon scales’. Gimli is in awe, having plenty of experience with Mithril himself and paying special attention to Gandalf’s story earlier.

This is the kind of moment which, in a lot of media, falls victim to a certain writing trope referred to as ‘deus ex machina’: the hero is suddenly saved by something the writer has invented in the very moment, which has not been set up or previously alluded to in the story. It’s always really annoying when it happens because it’s essentially a get out of jail free card and some writers use it recklessly, making it so that you can never really fear for the heroes and the story’s stakes are never as high as the writer wants you to think they are. The reason why this moment works is that it is previously set up, just with a single scene between Frodo and Bilbo in Rivendell, though one could argue it’s further supported by the dialogue between Gandalf and Gimli in the Mithril Mine. We as the audience know enough about Mithril to understand its value and its defensive capabilities, and as we’ll see, the Mithril coat doesn’t necessarily make Frodo invincible; it just protects him from being stabbed on his upper body, which, considering his close call with the Ringwraiths, you can understand why Bilbo and the Fellowship would want to keep him safe from that in particular. It allows us to have this moment of tension where we believe the mission has been lost and our protagonist killed, only to get the reveal that he’s been saved by something the story has supported previously, and we get to keep Frodo as a vulnerable hero.

The Bridge of Khazad-Dum

This moment ends as Gandalf hears more approaching goblin swarms, letting us know that while the troll’s been slain and its horde of orcs beaten, the threat to the Fellowship isn’t over. He commands the Fellowship to make for the Bridge of Khazad-Dum, a passage which will ultimately lead to the gateway out of Moria. The nine companions leave Balin’s Tomb and head back out into the Dwarrowdelf city chamber, and soon they can see armies of goblins following them. We can also see, as the camera moves around the vast chamber, more goblins crawling up out of cracks in the floor and in the ceiling, again moving like a swarm of insects. Jackson has said that he wanted the goblins of Moria to be like cockroaches in the way they scurry and scatter, and never is that more evident than in this scene where they get the Fellowship surrounded. There are thousands of goblins filling this chamber, and soon the Fellowship can go no further. We see more close-ups of the goblins, and some of them have very large eyes, as though they’ve had to evolve living in places with little to no light (not unlike Gollum). The Fellowship makes a porcupine formation around the hobbits, but it’s clear they cannot fight such a vast army and hope to win.

Then, as if the situation couldn’t get any worse, we hear a low rumble and growling sound, and a fiery glow lights up further away in the mountain. The goblins react to this and start to panic, drawing up their weapons and some of them wailing as they recognize the sound. The goblin swarms scatter away and return from whence they came, and Gimli laughs at them as for the moment it appears the Fellowship is saved. Only Gandalf seems to understand as the low rumbling continues, and we can recall now the one thing Gandalf feared most about entering this mountain, the thing which we saw Saruman hinting at. Boromir asks Gandalf about what’s coming, and Gandalf doesn’t immediately answer while the dread is filling his mind. It’s as if he knows now that this confrontation was inevitable, and he’s coming to terms with that. The growling gets louder and the light is getting brighter, indicating that whatever it is, it’s getting closer. Gandalf then replies that it is a Balrog, a demon of an ancient world. Even Legolas seems filled with fear at this announcement. Gandalf says that the Balrog is beyond any of them, so they must run.

The next sequence, as the Fellowship enters the chasms of Khazad-Dum and must navigate its dangerous walkways, has quite a few quick character moments peppered throughout. Gandalf decides to take the rear of the Fellowship, to be its shield as the Balrog chases after them. He tells Aragorn to lead the others on, which may be his passing of the torch of leadership to Aragorn for the rest of the journey, in case he should fall here. He tells Aragorn that swords are no more use here, hinting at the kind of threat they’re dealing with in the Balrog. The Fellowship moves forward at a quick pace until they reach a rift in the stairs. Legolas, being the nimblest, jumps across first, then we become aware that goblin archers are watching them as they begin to rain arrows on the Fellowship, raising the threat level even more. Legolas and Aragorn start firing back, with Legolas showing incredible accuracy at long range. Gandalf appears uncertain about crossing at first, but Legolas urges him to cross, so he makes the jump. Next we see Boromir grabbing Merry and Pippin and taking them both across with him, again showing his affection for these hobbits and his willingness to protect them at all costs. The rift then widens as some of the stone steps break up and fall off, so Aragorn throws Sam across for Legolas to catch him.

He is about to do the same for Gimli, but the dwarf denies him, proudly declaring that “Nobody tosses a dwarf!” It’s a sentiment that shows the pride of his race and their wish to take care of themselves, and he nearly makes the jump himself, but he is only saved from falling when Legolas grabs him by the beard and pulls him up. It’s another great moment for comedy, but it’s again showing Legolas’ willingness to look out for him, strengthening their bond as companions. At this time the rift widens further, too far for anyone to jump across, and to make matters worse, the Balrog’s approach in the background causes some rubble to fall and break off any escape, leaving Aragorn and Frodo trapped on a segment of stairs. I think it shows a bit of lacking foresight that Frodo wasn’t one of the first who was made to cross in case something like this should happen, considering his importance to the quest, but it does give him and Aragorn a good scene to rely on each other and build their friendship, which helps to support their final payoff in this film, so I’ll allow it.

The stone pillar which is holding up the staircase starts cracking at the base, swaying slightly as it leans back, so Aragorn has Frodo lean forward to influence the movement of the pillar. After a long moment of tension, the pillar crashes forward and Frodo and Aragorn reach safety. The Fellowship moves down the remaining stairs and the pillar crashes against the walls and falls apart, falling to unseen depths under the mountain. As the nine continue towards the bridge, Gandalf again takes the rear and directs the others. The path of flame is behind him, warning that the Balrog is near. As he turns, we get our first good look at this monster; a towering, horned beast with wings and crowned by fire, with flames spreading in its every step, and clouds of smoke shrouding much of its body. As it roars at Gandalf, it appears that all within its body must be like an intense furnace. The message is clear: the Balrog is something the Fellowship cannot fight or overcome, it is a threat beyond any that we’ve seen thus far in the films, and they must only flee from it.

The Fellowship reaches the bridge and crosses to the other side with the Balrog hot on their heels. It’s at this moment where Gandalf assumes his responsibility, faces his fears and his destiny, and makes his stand for all his companions. He suddenly turns at the center of the bridge and faces the Balrog, and he exclaims that it will not pass him. Frodo shouts in terror, and all the Fellowship watches helplessly from the other side of the bridge. The Balrog ignites its whole body, showing just how massive and threatening it is, but Gandalf stands firm. He proclaims himself the wielder of the Flame of Anor, and as he lights up his staff there appears to be a shield glowing around him. The Balrog pulls out a flaming sword and strikes at Gandalf with it, but upon hitting the shield the sword breaks into pieces and Gandalf remains unhurt. In Frodo’s reaction we can start to feel that maybe Gandalf, as powerful a wizard as he is, might actually stand a chance. The Balrog roars at Gandalf in frustration, likely never having battled such an adversary, and it takes a step onto the bridge as Gandalf warns it to ‘go back to the shadow’.

Now the Balrog takes out a fiery whip, so Gandalf responds with one of the most iconic lines in the whole trilogy: “You shall not pass!”, and he strikes the bridge with his staff, and we can start to hear it cracking as a burst of light, and noise like thunder, spreads from the impact. I think it’s in this scene where Sir Ian McKellen earned his Oscar nomination for best supporting actor, because this is really the moment where Gandalf is in full focus and showing his full capability, and it’s glorious to watch. The Balrog lunges out at Gandalf, only for its half of the bridge to break apart and fall to the depths, and it falls as well. It lets out a final cry as Gandalf looks down at his defeated foe, breathing heavily as he starts to walk away. Unfortunately, the Balrog cracks its whip back up and the coils reach Gandalf’s legs, pulling him down. The wizard manages to grab the ledge of the broken bridge, though his sword and staff have fallen.

Frodo tries to run and help him, but Boromir stops him, knowing that it’s too dangerous since the goblins will soon return and the bridge may be unstable. Frodo and Gandalf share one last look at each other, as Gandalf tries for a brief moment to pull himself up, unsuccessfully. He then tells the others to fly (run away), and then he lets himself fall. Frodo shouts in agony, and Boromir grabs him up and takes him away. Aragorn lingers for a moment, clearly emotional from having watched his dear friend pass, so Boromir calls after him as well. Aragorn sees that he cannot stay, as the goblin swarms return and start firing arrows again at the Fellowship. Finally, the remaining Fellowship breaks out into sunlight, leaving Moria, and we get our first really heavy emotional payoff of this film. Gandalf is gone.

It’s interesting just how effective this scene is, especially knowing, as book readers knew back in 2001, how the story would play out in the remaining two films. For now, all the characters know is that Gandalf has fallen and they’ll never see him again, and it hits them very hard. Howard Shore’s music underscores the sadness of the scene beautifully, and we hear none of the dialogue or the crying as we watch the different members of the Fellowship mourning. Sam is in tears, Merry and Pippin are inconsolable, Gimli is quite broken up, even Legolas looks like he’s trying to maintain composure. It’s incredibly powerful, and it really emphasizes the enormous role Gandalf had in this story and in these characters’ lives, and it forces us to question what will happen to them all now that he’s gone. He was the Fellowship’s father figure, its leader, and a dear friend to many of them, and now they have to go on without him. They likely all share the sentiment which Celeborn tells them later, that without Gandalf their quest is hopeless.

But Aragorn knows that the quest must carry on, and he understands that Gandalf has left the responsibility of leading to him. He tells Legolas to get the hobbits on their feet, but Boromir pleads to give them a moment to grieve, once again showing his compassion for them. Aragorn nevertheless reasons that they will be overrun by orcs if they stay too long, and they must reach the safety of Lothlorien before they can rest and mourn. He gets Sam on his feet, then looks around until he finds Frodo, who appears to be wandering off away from the others. The ring-bearer is the most despondent of them all, with so much of his courage and understanding of this quest having come from Gandalf, and his heart broken from watching someone so dear to him fall to his death. He seems to be leaving the Fellowship and abandoning his quest in this moment of deep sorrow and weakness, an action which his companions may take notice of before he leaves later. Only because Aragorn catches him does Frodo fail to leave at this time.

Lothlorien

The Fellowship are soon on the move again heading south, and Aragorn appears to be glad at the sight of a large forest before them at the foot of the mountains. The eight companions arrive in greener country, but once they enter the woods they start to move more cautiously, and Gimli in particular seems wary of a certain presence. He warns the hobbits to stay close, telling them of a sorceress who lives in the woods: “an elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell… and are never seen again”. Frodo then begins to hear a woman’s voice calling his name, and she tells him he’s coming dangerously close with such great evil in his possession, revealing that whoever’s calling him knows he bears the One Ring. Some may recognize this is the same voice that narrated the prologue, though that becomes more apparent later. Gimli proudly declares that he wouldn’t be ensnared by this sorceress due to his sharp senses, only to immediately come face to face with elven bows and arrows pointed at him and the others. The Fellowship is quickly and quietly surrounded, and the apparent leader of this elf troop steps forward to boast that the dwarf could’ve been shot in the dark for how loud he breathed. Gimli’s enmity towards the elves is rekindled, and despite the goodwill that Legolas has borne towards him throughout the journey, the elves of Lorien appear to share the same feeling of superiority to dwarves as their kindred in Rivendell.

The Fellowship is captured and brought to an outpost elsewhere in the forest, where Haldir, the leader of the present elves, starts to meet and question some of the companions. He is friendly to Legolas and Aragorn and speaks to both of them in elvish, but Gimli grows impatient and demands for them to speak the common tongue. Haldir claims that they, probably meaning the elves of Lorien, have not had dealings with dwarves since the dark days, and Gimli replies with some unknown comment in the elvish tongue, vulgar enough that it was not given subtitles. Haldir says nothing in return, but Aragorn is clearly aggravated and scolds Gimli. Haldir then notices Frodo and says the same that the woman’s voice told him earlier, that he brings great evil with him, showing that the elves of Lorien are aware of him and their quest, and he tells Aragorn that the Fellowship cannot proceed into Lothlorien.

Aragorn then pleads with Haldir in private, and he says something that appears to get Legolas’ attention, but we get nothing clearly from their dialogue as they continue speaking in elvish. Frodo meanwhile looks around at his companions, and many of them are looking back at him curiously, even his friends from the Shire. He seems to be strangely disconnected from them now; perhaps they know that he tried to leave them before, and he may try again, and they worry about the ring’s effect on him, especially with Gandalf gone. Boromir is there to comfort him, however, telling him that Gandalf did not die in vain, and he would not want Frodo to carry the weight of his death in addition to the burden he already bears. This could be an attempt from Boromir to get closer to Frodo, in order to facilitate his plan to take the ring in the future, or it could be him showing his compassion for the hobbits again and doing what he can to build them up in this time of sorrow, or it could be some of both.

Haldir then appears to the others and tells them all to follow him, and so the Fellowship is taken deeper into the forest; apparently Aragorn’s pleading had some effect. Haldir takes the companions to a place called Caras Galadhon, the ‘heart of elvendom on Earth’ which is the home of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. As we enter this elven kingdom, we can see it’s another paradise like Rivendell, a wonderland full of tall Mallorn Trees and glowing lanterns, and elegant architecture, and smooth, spacious paths strewn with fallen leaves. For the first time since leaving Rivendell, the Fellowship is in a safe place, and once again they’re in the company of elves, to the dismay of certain characters. After being led through this hallowed landscape and up the spiral staircase to the heart of Caras Galadhon, the Fellowship is brought into the presence of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. It does not take long for most of the companions to stand in awe of Galadriel, her grace and luminous beauty, falling under her spell as Gimli warned. She maintains a commanding presence, greater than that of Celeborn, without even speaking, and we can soon understand that she can speak to others in their heads, like she did to Frodo earlier. There is a strange power about Galadriel, one that will be explored further at a later time.

Celeborn addresses the Fellowship, his inflection very slow and dry, telling them that what hope they had in secrecy is now gone, since Sauron knows they have entered Lorien. This probably refers to the One Ring’s power over the elven rings, one of which resides in Lothlorien. He notices that the companions number only eight, and Gandalf is no longer among them. Galadriel perceives, by reading the thoughts of Aragorn and Legolas, that Gandalf fell into shadow, and Legolas explains to her that he was taken by a Balrog of Morgoth (a name which will be more meaningful to book readers), and he says that the Fellowship went ‘needlessly’ into the net of Moria. Galadriel then claims that nothing Gandalf did in life was needless, and she suggests that his full purpose remains unknown, which is a bit of foreshadowing, though for now it’s only taken that the full repercussions of Gandalf’s deeds and his final sacrifice have yet to come into play. She then addresses Gimli specifically, telling him not to let the emptiness of Khazad-Dum trouble him, which is certainly the kindest words he’s heard from an elf that we’ve seen, so we can see how he could start to grow affectionate toward her despite his pride and prickly dwarven nature.

Galadriel also says that the world is now full of peril, and ‘in all lands, love is now mingled with grief’, turning her eyes to Boromir. This is to suggest that she knows his thoughts as well, concerning Gondor and his complicated relationship with his father, which is explored later, but it may also be her recognizing Boromir as a potential threat, someone who seeks to claim the ring for himself. In any case, Boromir appears to break down before her gaze, unable to look back at her as he starts to weep. Celeborn then speaks as the voice of doom, saying that the quest is hopeless without Gandalf, but Galadriel seems less certain, saying instead that the quest is on the edge of a knife, and if it fails, it will be to the ruin of all. She says, as the camera focuses on Sam, that hope remains while the company is true, and she tells them all to rest safely in the woods this night. Last of all, she turns her attention to Frodo, speaking to him in his mind, welcoming him at first, then revealing an unsettling side to her as she sharpens her voice and calls him the ‘one who has seen the Eye’. There is a glimpse of her eyes going wide as she focuses on him, thus creating an even more uncomfortable atmosphere for him when added to the warning she spoke to him earlier.

As the Fellowship settles in for sleep, Legolas notices that the elves around them are singing a tune to lament for Gandalf, showing that he was beloved to these elves as well. When Merry asks what they are saying about him, Legolas replies that he will not say, as the grief is still too near to him. Clearly whatever Gandalf was to the elves of Lorien, he was to the elves of Mirkwood as well, and this adds to Legolas’ character in that he chooses to remain stoic and composed when confronted with these emotions. The line ‘I have not the heart to tell you’ also suggests that he wants to spare Merry the added sorrow as well, knowing how greatly the hobbits grieved at Gandalf’s passing. Sam then remarks that the elves probably aren’t singing about Gandalf’s fireworks, so he creates a verse on them himself. Though his lines are nicely poetic, he claims they don’t do justice.

The next scene, which has become one of my favorites in the whole movie, is where Aragorn finds Boromir sitting alone, resilient to sleep. Aragorn encourages him to get rest, since they are well-protected now, but Boromir says he will find no rest. He opens up to Aragorn about what Galadriel said to him in his head, and we learn she knows about his father and how Gondor has gone into decline. Despite her words, he does not believe there is hope left, that there hasn’t been in a long time. Aragorn senses that Boromir wants to confide in him, so he sits beside him and listens intently, as a friend. Boromir talks about his father Denethor (who we’ll meet in the third film), that he is a noble man but his rule is failing, so he looks to his son to help make things right. Boromir thus feels immense pressure to live up to the glory of Gondor as he sees it, to do everything in his power to restore that glory. He then speaks, with very wistful eyes, about the city of kings, the beauty of the White Tower of Ecthelion, and he asks Aragorn if he’s ever seen it, if he’s ever been ‘called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets’. Aragorn replies that he has been to Minas Tirith, many years ago, and so Boromir, full of hope, says that one day he and Aragorn will return there as ‘lords of Gondor’. But we can see in Aragorn’s expression that that isn’t what he wants, and he doesn’t share Boromir’s enthusiasm for this. His responsibility, as the new leader of the Fellowship, is to get the ring to the fires of Mount Doom, and he figures that returning to Minas Tirith will not avail him in their quest as it is now, not that he greatly desires to return there anyway with his royal bloodline still weighing on him.

In this scene we see Boromir stripped of all his pride and at his most fragile, having been broken down by Galadriel, and Sean Bean’s performance shines with such nuance in his delivery. The man who once proclaimed that Gondor has no king and it needs no king is now asking Aragorn to return home with him and take his place as a lord of Gondor, because he’s seen in Aragorn a potential leader that he doesn’t see in his father, and he’s seen him prove his strength and courage in battle. You really get the sense that Boromir wants only what is best for his people, and he views himself as inadequate despite how he’s previously presented himself. His desire to claim the ring is selfless, based on the understanding that it can be used to defeat Sauron, only until its influence starts to wear him down and drive him mad. We learn so much about Boromir in this scene, but we also learn about Aragorn, and we can see his conflict, that he wants to be a brother and friend to Boromir, he’s come a long way from initially distrusting him, and he wants to believe in his own people again, but his own experience still makes him reluctant to take up the responsibility his bloodline bears. The relationship between these two has developed so significantly before our eyes, and the consequences of this exchange carry over into their next scene together.

We next see Galadriel walking through the woods of Lorien at night, while the Fellowship is sleeping. Frodo suddenly stirs and wakes, and he sees her passing by. He begins to follow her, and she leads him to a glade where there is a fountain of water, and a silver saucer on a pedestal that she adds water from the fountain to. She seems unsurprised to see him there, and he seems transfixed by her, following her almost as though not entirely out of his own will. The saucer is the Mirror of Galadriel, and she asks him if he will look into it, to which he asks what he will see if he does. She says the mirror shows many things: past, present, and potentially the future. As Frodo looks down into the water, he first sees only a reflection of himself, with despair and uncertainty in his eyes, then the image changes and he sees the faces of his companions, the same images of them looking back at him curiously after Haldir captured them. Images of the past, but also serving to remind him of his current predicament, which will soon become more relevant.

Then the images turn to the Shire, hobbit holes and many hobbits going about their day, only to then drastically change as the homes are shown burning and the hobbits flee from orcs which are cutting them down. The Scouring of the Shire, as it were, the only allusion these films make to that sequence in the books. The hobbits are suffering as slaves and the Shire turns from a cozy, green paradise to a barren wasteland, like Mordor. These images are disturbing to Frodo, but Galadriel seems to respond knowingly. The ring begins to drift on its chain out of Frodo’s shirt, and the Eye of Sauron appears in the mirror, bringing this nightmare back into Frodo’s mind. The ring nearly touches the water, but Frodo grabs it and falls back away from the mirror, horrified by what he saw. There appears to be steam rising from the mirror, as though the images were so intense that the magic of this elvish device was giving off heat and energy as it portrayed them.

As Frodo collects himself and returns to his feet, Galadriel reveals that everything he saw, she saw as well, as it is also in her mind. She then warns him, speaking again in Frodo’s mind, that the scouring of the Shire is what will happen if his quest fails. She also warns him that the Fellowship is doomed to fail: she says that HE will try to take the ring, referring to Boromir without naming him, confirming that she indeed saw in Boromir’s thoughts at their first meeting what his intentions were. One by one, she adds, it will corrupt everyone in the Fellowship, echoing Gandalf’s sentiment before entering Moria that Frodo can only trust himself. To this, Frodo feels very discouraged; he feels that the quest is too much for him, so he offers the ring to Galadriel, thinking that surely an elf queen like herself, so wise and powerful, would be better suited to bear the One Ring than a hobbit.

Galadriel’s response is legendary. At first, she seems shocked that Frodo would offer it up so willingly, considering its possessive nature to its bearers, and she says she cannot deny that she has greatly desired to bear it. She then shows a glimpse of the sorcery which she is capable of, transforming into some terrifying divine version of herself as she describes what she would become if the ring were hers and had access to her power: “terrible as the dawn, treacherous as the sea, stronger than the foundations of the earth”, and she declares that she would be queen in the dark lord’s place. It’s a far more dramatic version of Gandalf’s warning to Frodo back in the Shire, giving him a more clear understanding of what could happen if someone with great magical powers were to possess the ring. It shows him that this quest can only be completed by someone like a hobbit, with great resistance to the ring and no greater power to use it.

But Galadriel stops herself from claiming the ring, and she soon returns to normal as she declares that she has passed the test; the ring will no longer tempt her, and her heart’s desire for it has faded. She then says that she will ‘diminish, and go into the west, and remain Galadriel’, which I interpret to mean that, whether the ring is destroyed or reclaimed by Sauron, the power of the elven rings will fade, and she will leave with the rest of the elves at the Grey Havens, bereft of her power. Frodo, however, has met his moment of crisis: he says he cannot do this quest, and bear this burden, alone, to which Galadriel tells him that bearing a ring of power is to be alone. She then reveals her own ring: Nenya, one of the three elven rings, showing her full understanding of Frodo’s burden. We already saw her among the other elven lords in the prologue with the three rings, so this should come as no surprise. She reiterates that this task was appointed to Frodo alone, and if he does not succeed, then no one will. The fate of Middle-Earth rests on his shoulders now, and in order to see his task done, he must make a very difficult decision. He recognizes then what he has to do, which is to break from the Fellowship and go on alone, but he’s afraid to do this. Galadriel then gives him some strong words of encouragement, and with his confidence bolstered, Frodo closes his hand on the ring, solidifying his resolve.

The Great River/The Uruk-Hai

We then finally return to Isengard, where Saruman has been busy building his army. We see him speaking to Lurtz, the fearsome Uruk-hai that he witnessed being pulled from the mud earlier, giving him a short speech to get him, and the audience, to understand how the Uruk-hai are a stronger, more perfected form of the orcs. He then asks Lurtz who he serves, and Lurtz answers with ‘Saruman’, showing his loyalty to the white wizard rather than to Sauron. We then see a montage of many Uruk-hai preparing for battle, with orcs putting white war paint on them in the shape of a hand: the White Hand of Saruman, a sigil which will continue to have importance in the next film. The uruks are being geared up with weapons and armor, now that Saruman has enough to send out a strike force with. Once his troops are prepared, Saruman addresses them all and tells them to hunt ‘them’, meaning the Fellowship, and he goads them with the promise that they will taste man-flesh. With his horde enticed for the hunt, he then turns to Lurtz, his appointed leader, and gives him special instructions to bring back the halflings alive and unspoiled, reasoning that they carry something of great value. We are then shown as Lurtz leads the battalion of Uruk-hai out of the caverns, and now this new threat to the Fellowship, set up before they even began their journey, is afoot. The journey goes into greater danger.

Meanwhile, the Fellowship is preparing to leave the safety of Lothlorien, and the elves have provided them with many gifts to aid in their travels. Firstly, they are given boats to navigate the great river Anduin, which will make their passage southwards quicker until they reach the Falls of Rauros. Second, each member of the Fellowship is given special cloaks, which Celeborn tells them will help ‘shield them from unfriendly eyes’, another setup for a future scene, though it finds another use in a different one. Also, the Fellowship is given a provision of Lembas, elvish waybread which can fill stomachs in just a small bite. Lastly, each member of the Fellowship also gets something special and more or less unique to them and their needs, with the notable exception of Boromir (did Galadriel know he wasn’t long for this world?). Merry and Pippin get special daggers of the Noldorim, and Pippin receives words of encouragement from Galadriel as well. Legolas receives a new bow of the Galadhrim, and Sam is given elven rope. When Galadriel asks Gimli what a dwarf would ask of the elves, we can see that she has been endeared to him. He first says he only wishes to look at her once more and marvel at her beauty, then grumbles to himself about something that he feels is stupid to ask.

To Aragorn, Galadriel says that he already bears the greatest gift the elves can offer; that which Arwen bestowed on him in Rivendell, the Evenstar. She recognizes that this is a pledge from Arwen to give up her immortality to be with Aragorn, but Aragorn remains firm that he wishes for Arwen to leave with her people. Galadriel then reminds him that he has his own choice to make, and she frames it in such a way as to suggest she yearns for him to take the throne. Still Aragorn seems uncertain, and so Galadriel says they will not meet again, adding that he has much yet to do, and she calls him ‘Elessar’, the elvish name for Aragorn. Despite receiving no gift from her, however, Aragorn does receive a curved knife from Celeborn, as the Lord of the Galadhrim warns him about a new breed of orcs reported from the direction of Isengard. This sort has no fear of sunlight and can cover a long distance quickly; they will track the Fellowship, and so only by traveling on the river can they have a chance of outrunning them.

As the Fellowship departs Lothlorien, Gimli reveals to Legolas what Galadriel’s gift to him was: he asked her for a single hair from her head, and in her generosity she gave him three. In this we can see that Gimli’s attitude towards the elves has softened quite a bit, and from Legolas’ smile we can also glean that he’s starting to grow more affectionate towards the dwarf: these two are actually having pleasant conversation, which is a drastic change from where they started. Lastly there is Frodo, whose gift from Galadriel is the Light of Earendil, a phial which she describes can be a light in dark places. Yet another item, like the Mithril coat, whose usefulness is set up well in advance of it actually being needed. As they leave, Frodo can see Galadriel holding up her hand in a sign of farewell. The Fellowship rows out of the Silverlode, and they are once again on their own in the wilderness.

A montage follows the Fellowship as they make their way down the great, winding river ever southwards, but we can also see that the Uruk-hai are on their trail, rushing through the woods with Lurtz at the head. From the various wide shots, we can perceive that the company has covered a great distance after leaving Lothlorien; it’s also interesting to consider how the boats are divided for passengers. Legolas is with Gimli, Boromir is with Merry and Pippin, and Aragorn rows with Frodo and Sam, subtly outlining the significant relationships which have been building up in this film. The company stops for the night on a stony shore, and Boromir, keeping watch, notices a log floating down the river with hands grabbing from the opposite side. Aragorn claims that it is Gollum, knowing that the creature has been following them since Moria. Gollum continues to keep his distance from the ring-bearer, with so many companions around to protect him, but with the Fellowship soon to break, he will get his chance to strike.

As the Fellowship settles in, Sam checks in on Frodo, saying that he’s noticed that Frodo has not been eating or sleeping. He wants to do everything he can for Frodo, but Frodo’s already made his decision to leave, and so he’s been keeping to himself, cutting himself off from the others so it will be easier to go when the time comes. Sam reminds him, however, that he promised Gandalf that he would help, and Frodo understands that he’ll be hurting Sam if he leaves. He tries to tell him that he can’t help this time, but as we’ll see, Sam won’t be taking that for an answer.

Meanwhile Boromir is trying to convince Aragorn to lead the Fellowship to Gondor, to the safety of the citadel in Minas Tirith, and Aragorn remains reluctant. He says there is no strength in Gondor to aid them in this quest, to which Boromir points out how quick he was to trust in the elves rather than his own kind. He wants so badly for Aragorn to recognize the qualities of men, but Aragorn is mostly silent, knowing how easily the ring could corrupt Boromir and any other mortal men who come into contact with it. Then Boromir goes on the offensive, accusing Aragorn of being afraid of living up to his duty and his bloodline’s legacy, instead choosing to stay in the shadows all his life. Perhaps sensing that he’s gone too far, Boromir stops himself, and Aragorn reiterates, quite decisively, that the ring will come nowhere near the White City. When the journey continues the next day, we can see in the faces of the two men that the wounds they exchanged the previous night still fester.

Soon, however, those feelings are put aside when the Fellowship happens upon what could be called the Middle-Earth equivalent of one of the wonders of the world. Aragorn calls Frodo’s attention to two enormous statues that stand above the river on either side: the Argonath, the likenesses of the brother kings Isildur and Anarion of the old northern and southern kingdoms. You can see in the cliffs on either side of the river that the rock has been carved out, likely used to build these two enormous structures. As Aragorn describes them, using the term ‘my kin’, there seems to be the light of wonderment in his eyes and pride in his voice. He says he has long desired to look upon the kings of old, meaning that in all of his travels he has never beheld the Argonath before, so this is clearly a meaningful moment to him. It probably weighed significantly in his later decisions, and we can see in Boromir’s expression as well that the Argonath are a splendid sight to his eyes.

After the camera gives us a wider and better view of the statues up high, we arrive with the Fellowship on the banks near Rauros, which is where the Fellowship will have to continue on foot. As they come to shore, we can sense in Frodo and Boromir’s expressions that they both are mentally preparing themselves for the actions they are about to take, and Frodo seems wary that Boromir may act before he does. Aragorn then lays out for the others his plan to press on eastward and approach Mordor from the north, rather that go near Gondor, and Gimli speaks up. The dwarf describes the treacherous paths of cliffs and marshes ahead of them in Emyn Muil, but Aragorn remains firm, and he suggests that Gimli rest now before they get started, which appears to offend the dwarf.

While they are speaking, Legolas appears to sense some danger, and he warns Aragorn about it. He says it is not the orcs, or Uruk-hai, that worries him, but some intangible threat which has been growing nearer. He refers, without knowing it, to Boromir’s attempt to seize the ring, an act which ultimately seals the destruction of the Fellowship as they know it. Not long after, Merry asks broadly about Frodo’s whereabouts, and no one seems to know. He’s already wandered off without a word, though it’s not clear if his intention was to leave just yet. As the company looks around for signs of him, Aragorn notices the shield of Boromir lying against a stone, and he recognizes that Boromir has wandered off as well; a very dangerous situation for Frodo with Boromir’s current state of mind. It’s also a tragic bit of foreshadowing: we see his shield here at the campsite, understanding it’s not with him, and thus it’s not on his person at the moment when he’d need it the most.

We find Frodo wandering the woods of Amon Hen; on surface it appears he’s sight-seeing as he finds remnants of some old civilization. Before long he runs into Boromir, who’s gathering wood for the campfire, and Boromir warns him about wandering alone. As Frodo remains nonresponsive, Boromir starts pressing him, guessing that Frodo seeks solitude to help in bearing his burden, so he starts to offer an alternative. But Frodo cuts him off, implying that he knows Boromir’s true motives, and he insists that his way is the only way. Boromir is unwilling to accept this, and starts to approach Frodo with an increasing level of aggression. While he claims he only seeks to defend his people, his attitude reveals that he isn’t being totally true. He then finally pleads for Frodo to lend him the ring; Frodo refuses, backing away, and Boromir seems offended for a moment that the hobbit would recoil away from him like a foe, rather than a companion. Frodo reasons that Boromir is not acting like himself, which only enrages Boromir further. He predicts that Frodo’s plan will end in failure and suffering, but the hobbit tries to walk away, perhaps hoping that Boromir will cool down if given space.

Whatever he intended, Boromir chases after him. He calls Frodo a fool and claims the ring should be his, showing the madness that the ring has brought on him in full effect as he grabs Frodo and tries to seize the ring forcibly. But, perhaps acting too thoughtlessly, Frodo puts on the ring to turn invisible, and when Boromir loses him, the hobbit kicks him and slips away. Boromir’s rage reaches a fever pitch, crying out that Frodo will betray them all and return the ring to Sauron. He shouts curses for a moment longer, then he slips and falls on his face, a moment which seems to knock some sense into him. In his lust for the ring, Boromir seemed to have lost all grip on reality and started spewing madness in any attempt to claim it, thus showing us how easily it can corrupt those ignorant of its power. This is, sadly, the moment most people seem to recall most when considering Boromir’s character: his single-minded desire, for a moment, to claim the ring. This misguided focus completely misrepresents him and ignores everything else about him that previous and future scenes set up.

Anyway, once Boromir returns to his senses, he begins to shed tears and call out to Frodo to apologize for his behavior. He’s completely snapped out of his madness and recognized what he’s done, what he’s tried to do, and from here on there is nothing that Boromir does in the film that isn’t heroic. Sadly, his sorrowful cries to Frodo, while likely heard, are not responded to. Frodo has ascended to the summit of Amon Hen to hide, once again navigating in the twilight version of the world. In his attempt to hide from Boromir, he has unwittingly drawn the attention of someone far more dangerous; as he looks out, he sees a vision, like a nightmare scenario, of the Tower of Barad-Dur, and ascending the tower until he comes face to face with the Eye of Sauron once again. Frodo realizes what he’s done, drawing danger to himself and his companions, and he falls backwards, pulling the ring off his finger as he falls. He returns to sunlight in Amon Hen, seemingly safe once again.

He is shortly found by Aragorn, who looks concerned at the sight of the hobbit. To try and deflect from what he’s done, Frodo states that Boromir has been seduced by the ring. To this, Aragorn demands to know where the ring is: he likely fears that Boromir succeeded in taking it, but Frodo’s concern, at this moment, is that any of his companions will come and try to do what Boromir did, so he flees from Aragorn, telling him to stay away. Aragorn seems shocked by this, reminding Frodo that he swore to protect him with his life. Frodo then asks if Aragorn can protect him from himself, and Aragorn doesn’t answer. Likely he understands in this moment what Frodo fears, from him and the other companions. It is here that Aragorn realizes that Frodo intends to go off on his own, and he means to do so in secret.

This is a very significant payoff for both of these characters. Frodo opens up his hand, revealing the ring, which indicates to Aragorn that Frodo has just been wearing it. The ring is now there for Aragorn to take it, and Frodo knows he cannot stop him. This is the moment Arwen referred to in Rivendell, when Aragorn would face the same evil that Isildur did. We can see and hear that the ring is calling out to Aragorn, and he seems to be drawn to it in a way we haven’t seen from him before. For a long moment, Aragorn hovers his hand over the ring, then he closes Frodo’s hand and presses it back towards him; he has successfully resisted the ring, showing the capacity for all other men to do the same. Men are not as weak and susceptible to power as some, like Elrond, had supposed. To show that he approves of Frodo’s plan, he tells him that he ‘would’ve’ gone with Frodo all the way to Mount Doom. Frodo, grateful for his understanding, asks him to look after everyone else, especially Sam. This is a particularly poignant moment for Frodo as well, saying goodbye not only to a good friend, but also potentially his strongest protection in continuing his travels. He has committed to this decision, and now there is no turning back.

Their tender goodbye is cut short as Aragorn notices that Frodo’s sword is glowing blue: the enemy is here. He tells Frodo to run, and so Frodo’s quest of solitude begins as Aragorn turns his attention down the way until he faces an army of Uruk-hai. The shot of him standing alone against the Uruk-hai, a valiant man of the west raising his sword, is just iconic, and it symbolizes his fearlessness against any foe. Lurtz urges his troops with a battle cry, and they charge at Aragorn, and he takes them one by one. The last action sequence of this film, the Battle of Amon Hen, begins.

The clamor of battle spreads as the rest of the Fellowship continues searching for Frodo, and Aragorn is pressed into a tight spot up on the ruins by the Uruk-hai. Meanwhile Lurtz calls to his troops, telling him to locate the halflings, showing his strict obedience to Saruman’s orders. Aragorn leaps from a high spot, and he utters the battle cry ‘Elendil!’, which is a hint that he’s slowly accepting the call to royalty and his faith and pride in his own people is getting stronger. At this moment, Legolas and Gimli appear to aid him, with Gimli throwing an axe and Legolas mostly utilizing his new bow. Legolas tells Aragorn to go, implying, I think, that he intends to hold off the Uruk-hai with Gimli while Aragorn goes to find the hobbits and protect them. At this point Legolas likely believes they’re still searching for Frodo, and they can escape across the river if everyone gets back to the boats.

We then return to Frodo as he’s reached a hiding place from the searching Uruk-hai, and he hears Merry and Pippin call to him quietly to a safer hiding spot with them. But Frodo, saying nothing, just stares back at them for a moment and eventually shakes his head. Merry, who’s seen the signs from Frodo up to this point, understands that Frodo is leaving the Fellowship, and he shares this with Pippin. Likely none of them really understand why Frodo’s made this decision, but when Pippin goes out to try and stop him, and Merry steps out of cover with him, the two place themselves directly in the line of sight of the Uruk-hai. They hear the roars and turn, and Merry makes a spur of the moment decision. He tells Frodo to run; then, with Pippin’s help, draws the uruks’ attention away from Frodo. They run in the open with a horde of Uruk-hai following them, and with Frodo in the clear he escapes. It’s an incredibly brave moment for these two hobbits, showing their loyalty to Frodo and remaining consistent with their tendency to jump thoughtlessly into situations without fully understanding, like when they initially volunteered for the Fellowship at the Council of Elrond. While most of the characters don’t have their arcs completed in this film, we can see that Merry and Pippin have come a long way from the two rascals we met in the Shire, and this is a significant moment in their growth.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli continue fighting together, beginning to realize that they are not battling a rabble of mindless orcs. The Uruk-hai are stronger and harder to take down, and escaping from them won’t be as simple as they thought. These three are skilled warriors, as we see in their quick movements and maneuvers and their use of multiple weapon types. The hobbits, however, remain in trouble, and soon Merry and Pippin are caught with the Uruk-hai bearing down on them, and they’ve nowhere left to run. So who else could come to save the day but Boromir, the man who’s been devoted to protecting these two hobbits since the Fellowship was formed. He starts cutting down the Uruk-hai, and with him at their side Merry and Pippin pluck up the courage to fight as well, throwing their knives and finishing the uruks that Boromir has thrown down. One thing I don’t get: the first Uruk-hai that Boromir kills is raising his axe to kill the hobbits, when they’ve been given orders to capture them. Perhaps it’s a moment of bloodlust, or perhaps not everyone in the uruk army is apprised of their orders, but it’s more likely a small error, a moment presented to provide tension so that Boromir can appear to save their lives.

In any case, Boromir can only hold off the Uruk-hai on his own for so long, and he and the hobbits start to fall back as more and more of the enemy comes after them. As Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli continue fighting, we see Legolas taking down several Uruk-hai in a row with his arrows, lastly slaying the one that Aragorn has been struggling against. Then they all hear a blaring sound, and Legolas recognizes that it’s the Horn of Gondor; Boromir is in trouble, and he calls for aid. They start running in that direction at once, but the Uruk-hai have heard the horn as well, and they respond by hurrying towards it. They harry Aragorn and the others the whole way, slowing them down, while Boromir and the two hobbits continue to hold their position as best they can. Boromir blows his horn again and again, and we can see him holding it, recognizing this item that’s been hanging on his belt the whole journey finally seeing it in use.

Unfortunately, among the Uruk-hai that have been responding to his call is their leader Lurtz. Unlike most of the Uruk-hai, Lurtz has a ranged weapon, and once he has Boromir in his sight, he takes out his bow and aims from a long distance. Boromir fights on without noticing him, and Merry and Pippin resort to throwing rocks as they stand at a distance behind him. Lurtz fires and hits Boromir directly in the chest; the music cuts out for a moment, and the hobbits stand in shock. Lurtz growls in satisfaction, as it appears that Boromir has been slain when he falls to his knees. But, Boromir gets back up and fights on, showing his immense strength in this moment of anguish, and his willingness to sacrifice himself for the hobbits. Lurtz fires a second arrow and hits Boromir again in the belly, and again Boromir falls to his knees, for longer this time. Lurtz roars viciously; his place in this story has become clear. In a slight deviation from the events in the books, where Boromir is killed ‘offscreen’ by orc archers we never see, here Boromir’s killer is a formidable singular foe that’s been built up for much of the movie, and thus our hatred of Lurtz is made personal when he slays someone we’ve grown to care about, especially given his recent actions. Lurtz is a personification of Sauron’s, and more specifically Saruman’s evil who can threaten the heroes directly, face to face.

Boromir faces the hobbits as his strength continues to wane, and perhaps it’s the sight of them that gives him the resolve to keep fighting. He gets back up and manages to take down a few more Uruk-hai, then a third and final arrow hits him in the chest, and with this impact he drops his sword: he can no longer fight. He falls to his knees one last time, and seeing him defeated Merry and Pippin pick up their swords to avenge him. They shout a battle cry, but they don’t get a single strike in before the Uruk-hai seize them and pick them up off their feet, and begin carrying them away. With the hobbits captured, the Uruk-hai mission here is complete, as far as they know: Saruman doesn’t specify that there are four hobbits instead of two, and as far as we see Frodo and Sam are never spotted by the Uruk-hai. The uruks leave the battlefield, all save one. Lurtz lags behind as he approaches Boromir with his bow still in his hands. Lurtz seems to regard him for a long moment, almost as if he respects Boromir for having stood so long after being wounded. He then prepares a fourth arrow to finish him.

Then Aragorn arrives, tackling Lurtz and making him miss his shot, and the two begin a duel. In this fight Lurtz shows his full ferocity and brutality, attempting to behead Aragorn with his shield, bashing him with his face, and licking his own blood off the knife that Aragorn sticks into his leg. When he throws the knife at Aragorn, he deflects it with his sword (an improvised move that Viggo Mortensen nailed in one take), and the two go hand to hand with their blades. When Aragorn runs him through with the sword, Lurtz uses the sword to pull him in closer and growl in his face. It seems almost as if Lurtz isn’t fazed by pain, and in fact only becomes more ferocious from it. When Aragorn finally decapitates him, it comes as quite the relief: I still vividly remember people in the theater back in 2001 going “whew!” when Lurtz was finally killed. Through him, we see how much of a threat the Uruk-hai can be, which is foreboding considering how much of a role they play in the second film.

Following this we reach the second of this film’s big three emotional payoffs: the departure of Boromir. Aragorn goes to his fallen companion, who is still clinging to life as he lies against some tree roots. And what are the first words out of Boromir’s mouth, reflecting the journey he’s been on throughout this movie as a defender of the weak and innocent? “They took the little ones.” His first thought, in his dying breaths, is to tell Aragorn about Merry and Pippin, his final payoff from the setup that began when we first saw him training the two hobbits in sword fighting. Then he immediately asks about Frodo, still contrite for his attempt to claim the ring. Aragorn tells him that he let Frodo leave the Fellowship to continue the journey on his own. Boromir reveals that he tried to take the ring, an admission that requires quite some humility, but Aragorn doesn’t hold it against him now. The ring has gone beyond their reach; it can no longer tempt either of them. Boromir asks his forgiveness for being weak and allowing the ring to corrupt him, saying that he has failed him, implying how much he looks up to Aragorn. But Aragorn chooses to look past his mistake and commend his bravery in battle.

Aragorn then reaches towards Boromir’s wounds, but Boromir stops him, accepting his fate as the penance for his actions, and he laments for his failure as a reflection on the race of men. He believes that the world of men will fall to Sauron in the end, that despite all his pride in his people, they will not have the strength to face the darkness on their own. It is here that the friendship Aragorn and Boromir have developed as companions is fully realized. Seeing Boromir’s despair, and recognizing his heroism in defending the hobbits and fighting the forces of evil throughout their journey, Aragorn’s faith in men has been restored. Even if he has not yet decided to take the throne of Gondor, he believes that men can be redeemed, and he will fight alongside men in the battles to come. He swears to Boromir that he will return to Gondor, and he will defend Minas Tirith. He refers to men as ‘our people’, accepting the brotherhood with Boromir that he’s been offering since their time in Lothlorien. These words give Boromir some final comfort, and he takes his sword to lie with him as he starts to breathe his last. The last words he speaks to Aragorn wrap up their relationship on a powerful note: “I would’ve followed you, my brother, my captain… my king.” Whether or not Aragorn accepts his duty, Boromir sees him as the rightful king, going back on his initial statement that Gondor has no king.

Boromir is gone, bringing the Fellowship down to seven, and with the Uruk-hai capturing two and Frodo going off on his own, the companions are fractured. As Gimli and Legolas catch up to Aragorn just in time to see Boromir’s passing, Aragorn sheds tears for his fallen brother and laments that Boromir will be looked for in the White Tower. Back at the shore, Frodo has reached the boats, and he holds the ring in his hand. He hasn’t seen much of what’s happened since the Uruk-hai came, but Merry and Pippin could likely be dead for helping him escape, and the rest of his companions may also meet the same fate. It forces him to consider all that’s happened throughout his journey, all the danger he’s put his friends through and the evil that’s come to the Shire and continues to spread from Mordor. Despite his resolution at the Mirror of Galadriel, and his commitment to go alone before Aragorn and Merry and Pippin, the peril and weight of his journey continue to oppress him with doubt. He recalls his final conversation with Gandalf in Moria, and remembers his encouraging words about doing all he can with the time he has. This gives him the last bit of courage he needs to press on: he puts the ring away and pushes one of the boats off the shore, and he starts to row away to continue the journey alone. Of all the brave acts made in this film, this is arguably the hardest decision that any character makes: choosing to travel to Mordor alone, with no companions to help bear the ring or protect him from more powerful foes. It represents, like several other moments in this third act, how far Frodo has come from being the carefree young hobbit in the Shire.

But Frodo is not left alone for long. Shortly after he pushes off from shore, Sam arrives and tries to stop him from leaving him. Sam cannot swim, so he stops when he’s about waist-deep in the river. Frodo goes on without looking back, only turning when he hears Sam try to go further into the water. He tells him to stay, that he’s decided to go on alone. Sam replies with one of his most endearing lines, showing his unbreakable devotion to his friend: “Of course you are, and I’m coming with you!” He goes further into the river and starts to founder, so Frodo rows back to try and save him. Then Sam sinks into the water, and for a long moment it seems as though we’ve lost another beloved character right at the end. The strength of Sam’s character prevails as he remains willing to sacrifice himself just for the chance at remaining by Frodo’s side.

We then reach the last of the three big payoffs: Frodo saves Sam from drowning and pulls him into the boat. Once Sam catches his breath, he reminds Frodo of the promise he made to Gandalf before they all left the Shire. This time, however, the wording is slightly changed: whereas Sam originally says “Don’t you lose him, Samwise Gamgee”, here he says “Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee”, indicating that he’s sworn to be Frodo’s companion, and his friend, until the very end. The Fellowship may be fragmented, but here is a piece which cannot be broken down further. They were the original two, after all, setting out from the Shire together before even realizing how far this adventure would take them. Frodo recognizes that Sam will not be turned away, and he’s touched by Sam’s devotion to him, so he embraces him and agrees to let him come with him. They row together to the eastern shore of Anduin.

Meanwhile the rest of the company has prepared a eulogy of sorts for Boromir, laying him in one of the remaining boats with his possessions. He is set to drift down the river until the Falls of Rauros take his boat. We see that Aragorn has taken his gauntlets as he straps them on, a token to remember Boromir’s bravery, and the three watch sadly as Boromir passes from their sight for the last time. Legolas starts to prepare the last boat to follow Frodo and Sam across the river, but Aragorn does not stir. From this Legolas recognizes that Aragorn has no intention of following Frodo. He claims that Frodo’s fate is out of their hands now. Gimli then shares his melancholy, believing the Fellowship has failed in its purpose to protect the ring-bearer. But Aragorn has other ideas; as Boromir told him that the uruks took Merry and Pippin rather than killing them, he believes the hobbits still live, and if the Fellowship remains true, there’s still hope that they can make a difference. He asserts that they cannot abandon Merry and Pippin, and starts collecting their weapons and remaining resources for the new road ahead. Gimli and Legolas are in agreement with this, as the two even share a playful look, excited to be able to continue their journey. The three hurry away together, and that is the last we see of them in this film.

Last of all, Frodo and Sam have passed beyond to the cliffs of Emyn Muil, and from a high vantage point they can see for miles away, even to the land of Mordor in the far distance. The end of the journey is still far ahead of them, despite that this horrid country, the polar opposite of their home in the Shire, is finally glimpsed. Frodo says that he hopes the other companions find safe roads, whether they return home or choose to fight on in the days to come. Sam assures him that Aragorn will look after them, using the name ‘Strider’ since, from their meeting in Bree, that’s the name he most associates with the man. Frodo feels sad that they will likely never reunite with their companions, and Sam, ever the voice of encouragement for his friend, says there’s still a chance. This exchange makes Frodo feel especially glad to have such a good friend by his side, realizing how dour and hopeless he sounds compared to Sam’s levity. The two press on into the unknown, fading into the distance as they descend, and that is how the first film, The Fellowship of the Ring, draws to a close.

Conclusion

This first entry of Peter Jackson’s trilogy is simply stuffed with material, all of it in service to a script that slowly unfolds with each scene and pays immense respect to the tone of the source material. We’ve seen an ensemble cast of characters all go on their own personal journeys, facing fears and growing through harrowing experiences, with some weaving into and out of the foreground as others take their place. We don’t get much focus on Merry and Pippin in this film, or on Legolas and Gimli, but we get some, and by the end none of the main cast has remained static. Only Boromir has had his arc completed, with his story coming into full focus in the third act, though additional context is provided in the two following films. The rest of the characters have only started their journey, and yet many of them, particularly Aragorn and the four hobbits, have come quite a long way from when we first met them. They’ve had their values challenged, and they’ve been forced from their comfort zones to fight for the greater good.

Interestingly, despite that this is only the first part of a trilogy, the Fellowship of the Ring still manages to maintain a traditional three-act story structure, with its stasis (early scenes in the shire), its rising action (leaving the Shire and the Fellowship’s quest), its second act low point (Gandalf’s death), its emotional climax (Amon Hen), and its conclusion (final scenes with the Fellowship pressing on), leading all the characters directly to the sequel. To do this, we’ve gone over how certain sequences, like the Old Forest and the warg encounter, were cut from the film and others were drawn out and given more attention. Despite the occasional small blunders, the film remains logically consistent with its characters and how the magic in its world is set up, and thus the audience’s immersion can remain unbroken, allowing us to connect to the characters and feel all the story’s major beats. Much of this can be attributed to the attention to detail in Tolkien’s writing, but it’s worth crediting the writing team for adapting his work well enough that general audiences aren’t left with questions.

Throughout this review I’ve been focusing primarily on the writing in this film and haven’t said much about more superficial elements like the acting, music, and cinematography or the more technical aspects like visual effects technology and production design. This is because writing is what I appreciate most about filmmaking, what I believe makes or breaks a movie no matter how good it looks or how well it’s acted. Despite this, I think full reviews in this style could be written to analyze these aspects on their own: I think the casting for this film is fantastic, that actors like Ian McKellen, Sean Bean, Christopher Lee, Sean Astin, John Rhys-Davies, and Viggo Mortensen were born to play these roles. They’ve become so strongly associated with these characters after all these years that most people can’t imagine them being played by anyone else.

As for the music, I’ve said before that the Lord of the Rings films have my favorite soundtracks of any movie, and Fellowship of the Ring has my favorite score out of the three. I think an important aspect for a score, whether it’s a movie, TV show, or game, is to underscore the emotion which is already present in the scene rather than tell the audience how to feel. In Lord of the Rings that’s accomplished thoroughly, but it’s also used to help characterize this world. Howard Shore utilizes a wide variety of different musical themes to exemplify the bumbling and cozy nature of the Shire, the elegant grace and nobility of the elven cultures, the pride and strength of Gondorian men, the courage of the Fellowship, and the terror and menace of the orcs, Ringwraiths, and Uruk-hai. The use of these themes, much like in Star Wars, can be used to recognize the significance of certain moments, like the first moment we hear the Fellowship theme when Frodo and Sam leave the Shire together, or the first moment the Gondor theme plays as Boromir explains to the Council of Elrond the valiance of his people. This carries over into the second film, as many themes return and more are introduced.

In regards to the film’s production, I encourage everyone to take a deep dive to the special features of the extended versions of each film to see in detail the many aspects of filmmaking on display. The trilogy, as many of you will know, was filmed all at once out of order, rather than filming Fellowship first and the others afterward, which gives all three films a very consistent look and tone. Pre-production for the trilogy began years before filming began, giving them time to construct enormous sets and design hundreds of costumes and prosthetics to match the artwork of Tolkien artists Alan Lee and John Howe. The team also used very large miniature models for locations like Isengard, Barad-Dur, and the caverns of Moria rather than building them in a computer, so that what the audience sees is authentic and holds up well over time. The use of forced perspective and other visual tricks to make the hobbits and Gimli appear much shorter than other characters was nothing new at the time, but became popularized in major films due to the success of Lord of the Rings. The CGI was used mainly for creatures and large armies, and despite the technological limitations of the time the Balrog, the Cave Troll, and the elven magic still look mostly spotless today.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring is a truly epic and beautiful film, the kind of cinematic masterpiece that gets made very rarely for the amount of effort that it requires. At nearly three and a half hours, it’s a film that demands a lot from audiences and expects quite a bit of attention to fully appreciate its nuances. It earns its emotional payoffs by endearing us to the characters, taking us on the journey with them and letting us see the world with the same sense of wonder that many of them do. It brings such a satisfying conclusion that it works surprisingly well as a standalone film; thankfully, we live in a world where its two sequels successfully filled out the rest of the story up to the same high standards of quality. I will be moving next to a comprehensive review of The Two Towers, again in two parts, and we will see how the story was masterfully built upon and elevated to higher stakes in its second entry. Thank you for reading, and I hope everyone enjoyed and got something new from this film out of this review!

Iron Maiden – “Senjutsu” (2021) album review

Track List:

  1. Senjutsu (8:20)
  2. Stratego (4:59)
  3. The Writing on the Wall (6:13)
  4. Lost in a Lost World (9:31)
  5. Days of Future Past (4:03)
  6. The Time Machine (7:09)
  7. Darkest Hour (7:20)
  8. Death of the Celts (10:20)
  9. The Parchment (12:39)
  10. Hell on Earth (11:19)

This weekend, one of the oldest and greatest metal bands made their return with a new album. SENJUTSU is the 17th studio album from Iron Maiden. Yeah, you read that right. The band is getting close to their 50th anniversary, since they originally formed in 1975, and they’ve been consistently releasing albums since their self-titled debut back in 1980.

Over the years, Maiden has been responsible for some of the most well-known tunes in metal history, such as “Run to the Hills”, “The Number of the Beast”, “The Trooper”, and “2 Minutes to Midnight”. However, right around the turn of the millennium, when vocalist Bruce Dickinson and guitarist Adrian Smith returned to the lineup, making them a 6-man group, Iron Maiden began to hone and focus their progressive metal leanings that they’d been hinting at on albums like Seventh Son of a Seventh Son (1988) and The X Factor (1994) and started releasing albums packed with longer and longer songs. While their records still featured more palatable singles like “Rainmaker” and “The Wicker Man”, the band was getting more and more adventurous with their epic songwriting, and becoming less inclined to release blistering, galloping tunes along the lines of their past glories. Partially as a result, their albums became less frequent, and only two were released in the last decade.

This came to a head in 2015 when they released The Book of Souls, their first ever double-album, which included some of the longest songs they’d ever recorded. Despite this, the album was well-received critically and commercially, and I personally still think it’s an impressive statement from them, proving how inventive and aggressive they still had the capacity to be as the band members reached their sixties. But it’s been six years since that release, and only now have they returned with a follow-up, and to hear them tell it, Senjutsu wasn’t all that difficult to write and record. Indeed, the band claims the album was recorded in early 2019, before the pandemic, and much like their sessions for The Book of Souls, they wrote the songs quickly in the studio and recorded them immediately. One look at the song lengths, too, and anyone can tell they’re not considering abandoning this deep dive into progressive songwriting anytime soon. Also like The Book of Souls, Senjutsu is a double-album, though about ten minutes shorter than its predecessor. Where The Book of Souls was very creatively etched with Mayan imagery and mythology, especially in its album booklet and supporting tour, Senjutsu takes the setting to medieval Japan, even going as far as to give each individual song its own tribal flag and featuring a spectacular wallpaper of samurai Eddie standing on a bloodstained field outside an ancient Japanese city. At first glance, Senjutsu appears to be something of a sequel, or a spiritual successor, to The Book of Souls, but the material of the music is where the differences begin.

Senjutsu has ten songs spread over two discs, and only two of them are shorter than six minutes, with most approaching nine or ten. It opens with the title track, a warlike anthem with thundering drums and plodding guitar riffs as Bruce Dickinson sings mostly mid-range vocals telling of a great battle, perhaps a siege. It goes on for some eight minutes, featuring some far east melodies and wailing background vocals, and a chorus that’s both heroic and doleful in its tone. With the single “Stratego”, Maiden brings a galloping riff reminiscent of their 80’s hits and some interesting melodic interplay between Bruce and the lead guitars, and once again warfare is on the mind as the lyrics speak of a warrior and his storied and troubled history. In “The Writing on the Wall”, Iron Maiden surprised us all with a western-style bluesy take on their classic songwriting structure, introducing what’s one of their catchiest riffs in a long time and some fantastic soloing. It’s a whirlwind of a lead single and it rubbed some fans the wrong way, but I’ve been enthralled by it from the jump, and it’s the only song on the album quite like it, though there are surprises to come. It is followed by the nine and a half-minute “Lost in a Lost World”, which is intriguing by its eerie, wispy acoustic opening and Bruce’s soft, poetic vocals, supported by some interesting backing vocals and synths giving off a sort of ‘lost in the woods’ vibe, before slamming into some proggy riffing and heavy interludes. This track in particular reminds me of their 2006 record A Matter of Life and Death, namely in its structure and the layering of guitars in its heaviest moments. Following this comes the album’s shortest offering, the concert-ready “Days of Future Past”, which has some catchy riffs and some of Bruce’s most infectious and impressive vocals on the album and blazes by at a very solid pace. Of all the songs here, this one recalls the band’s 80’s glory days the most, and not to its detriment. It’s the one that stuck to me the easiest on first listen, not counting “The Writing on the Wall”. The first disc closes with arguably its most ambitious track, “The Time Machine”, which opens and closes on a soft note reminiscent of The Final Frontier’s “The Talisman”, but for the roughly six minutes in between takes the listener on quite the unpredictable ride through harmonically strange riffs and melodies and segment after segment of time changes and guitar breaks. And there’s this one killer guitar lick in the middle of this song that is so catchy and so quintessentially Iron Maiden that it brings a smile to my face every time I hear it. I’m undecided if this is my favorite song on the album, but it’s a pretty close race.

Disc two opens rather auspiciously with a dark ballad about Winston Churchill, entitled “Darkest Hour” (just like the movie), a war-weary anthem brooding on the hell Britain and all of Europe were facing at the height of WWII. It’s a slow-moving tune and has a pretty inspired chorus and some of Bruce’s most dramatic singing, but the song’s true highlight is its soulful and wailing guitar solos. To me this saves the song from being a bit of a dreary slog, but others may feel a ballad like this at this point of the album might be just the break from intensity it requires, particularly before it turns to its three true epics, all written by bassist Steve Harris. The first of these is the ten-minute “Death of the Celts”, which as the name implies takes on some brimming Celtic riffing and melodies. Here Maiden recalls “The Clansman” from The X Factor, a fan favorite, and indeed Bruce’s vocal range stays pretty limited throughout very similar to how Blaze Bayley sang the older tune. Multiple guitar solos help to pad the song’s length, as well as some exciting, uplifting sections in the latter half. Following this is the album’s longest track, “The Parchment”, which is perhaps its most difficult and problematic. It opens very moody and atmospheric before marching to a heavy, straightforward riff. More than previous songs, however, this one really packs in and repeats the riffs and takes its time while remaining at a consistent build without growing or slowing, and the performances here aren’t exactly staggering to make up for this. However, the album ends off rather dramatically and hauntingly with the surprisingly melodic “Hell on Earth”, clocking in at over 11 minutes. It once again adopts the signature Maiden gallop with some fantastic melodies layering over hopeful lyrics about escaping from the hell that humans have made on earth. It plays around with atmosphere and maintains the same world-weary dread that the album opened on with the title track, rounding out the record thematically quite nicely.

I’ve seen a number of fans claiming that this album has been difficult to get into, and others saying that it takes multiple listens to really appreciate. I find myself agreeing with both, despite that the latter tends to sound like a coping method to deal with a beloved artist releasing a new album that just isn’t very good. In the case of Senjutsu, I’ve listened to the album four times now, and I’ve had a different experience with each one, but by the fourth, I found myself really enjoying it, even if my enthusiasm dropped on certain songs. It is not a traditional Maiden record by any stretch, and certainly the songwriting is pretty long-winded and can be patience-testing, but the hooks are there, the performances are very solid across the board, and the album is very well-produced, with the guitars, bass, and drums really punching through the mix much more substantially than on other recent efforts. This is the first time I can remember being really excited about how great the guitar tone is every time there’s a solo; they just sound so slick and cut through very well. Every song has a great guitar solo: Adrian Smith, Janick Gers, and Dave Murray all deserve props for their performances here. Nicko McBrain’s drums are a particular highlight on the album, bringing a lot of depth and character especially to the longer songs. Bruce’s vocals do tend to get lost in the background on certain songs, which is a valid and consistent criticism I’ve seen, but there are times where I think it’s intentional, where his vocals aren’t meant to be at the forefront. His range remains impressive, and he still goes for some pretty high notes when necessary, but with each new Maiden album you can hear him settling more and more into his mid-range, and his operatic style of singing fits that range very richly. There are several songs on this album I noticed that the lead guitar doubles his vocal melody, more than I ever remember hearing it before, and I wondered if that was in any way intended to strengthen his performance. It wouldn’t be necessary, if true; he still sounds as vital and commanding as ever. As far as the progressive songwriting is concerned, I think by now Maiden fans have come to accept that the band isn’t interested in writing blistering anthems like “Aces High” anymore, and as they get older they want to continue to experiment and take their sound to new places. Senjutsu, however, is album that feels war-torn, if that makes sense. The title itself, translated from Japanese, roughly means ‘tactics and strategy’. Many songs tell of warfare, bloodshed, and the after effects it has on a land and its people, and the riffs and melodies are often tinged with darkness and the weight of generations of violence, like a seasoned veteran watching his country continue to denigrate. Given recent events in Afghanistan, it’s an eerily timely album, though the subject of war has never been an issue Iron Maiden has shied away from.

In conclusion, Iron Maiden’s Senjutsu is both more of the same when considering their post-2000 works, and a striking departure as they continue to search for ways to reinvent themselves. It’s certainly one of their more challenging albums, and I truly believe that you can’t fully absorb or appreciate it after one or two listens, which is why I’ve held off on talking about it. While songs like “Writing on the Wall” and “Days of Future Past” will hit you pretty quickly, the longer, denser tracks are going to take time to grow on you. I’m undecided as to whether it’s better or not as good as The Book of Souls; that album has its low points, but it also has some of Maiden’s all-time greatest songs. For now, Senjutsu is absolutely a worthy addition to the Iron Maiden discography, and for a band 17 albums into their career, with some of its members getting near to 70 years old, that’s a statement I don’t make lightly.

Excellent work, Iron Maiden

The Mandalorian – Season 2 (Review)

It’s a little strange to think that only a year ago, The Rise of Skywalker was released in theaters. It seems so much longer ago, doesn’t it? I’d venture to guess that the fact that the year 2020 has seen so few theatrical releases (and even fewer that made any money), the idea of going to the movies in of itself seems like ancient history, but it does help to consider that ever since TROS made back only half of the box office return of the trilogy opener The Force Awakens back in 2015, Disney and Lucasfilm have done their damnedest not to acknowledge that this trilogy was ever made. I mean, you’re all Christmas shopping right now, I presume, so it’s likely many of you have viewed the toy section of your local Wal Mart or Target recently. Did you happen to see any Rey action figures or Kylo Ren masks and lightsabers among all the Baby Yoda plushies, Mandalorian armor, and Lego Razorcrest sets? Because I haven’t. And let’s not forget that among the ten (yes, TEN) recently announced new Star Wars projects coming to Disney +, not a single one appears to have any connection to the sequel trilogy or its characters. Even they know they fucked up, and while it’s hard to imagine anyone like Kathleen Kennedy publicly erasing episodes seven through nine from the canon, they seem pretty content to pretend like they don’t exist. Something the majority of the fanbase seems 100% on board with. I know I am.

However, ever since last year’s slam dunk success with Star Wars’ first ever live action TV series, I’ve found myself increasingly disconnected from the rest of the fan base and their two thumbs-up approval of a show I consider to be mediocre at best. I didn’t take the chance back then to articulate exactly what was bothering me about the series, but now that season two has wrapped up and the show continues to go downhill, I’m here to offer my consensus on The Mandalorian for its sixteen-episode run thus far. I’ll be using mainly examples from the new season, though because my primary issues with the show are in the writing, and Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni have been handling all the writing, my criticisms apply to both seasons. And it’s important to distinguish that I’ve tried to be as objective as possible and enjoy this show on its own terms: to save you some time, my subjective opinion is that the show is repetitive, boring, and only marginally better than the sequel trilogy, and the only parts of it I’ve actually enjoyed have been superficial fan-service moments, mostly because they remind me of better Star Wars content. I’m not here to hate the show, or to tell anyone else that they shouldn’t like it. I’m just here to offer my criticisms, since it appears to be that the vast majority of the fan base considers the show to be incredible, and it’s entirely possible there are a lot of factors here being overlooked. I suppose that makes me some kind of contrarian, but if that’s the case, keep in mind I’m only doing it to point out bad writing so that maybe in the future there are fewer shitty scripts deemed acceptable, even good, by the masses.

So, where to begin? To summarize the plot of season 2, our protagonist (named Din Djarin, not that anyone’s expected to remember; we’ll refer to him as Mando) and the Child (Baby Yoda, or Grogu as he’s named in this season) continue their travels through the galaxy as Mando urgently seeks out other Mandalorians like himself and a Jedi with whom he can leave the child, while the nefarious Imperial Moff Gideon and his troops attempt to track him down and retrieve the child for their own purposes. In short, Baby Yoda is a McGuffin, but he’s also, to quote my buddy Taylor Torres, a mascot. Is he a character? Well, not strictly speaking… but anyway, the season continues to try to push the narrative thread from season one that Mando and Baby Yoda are developing a strong father-son sort of connection, based on short scenes where Mando tells him to stop playing with his food or quit messing with the metal knobs on his ship, or where Mando has him go into a tiny crawl space and handle some bad wiring (isn’t he supposed to be keeping the kid safe…?). This would all be fine, if either of them were well developed or identified as leading characters, but all we really know about Mando is that he’s an orphan, he used to be a bounty hunter, and he very infrequently makes full use of the weapons in his arsenal. I don’t know what he thinks of the Empire or the New Republic, I don’t know what he wants, I don’t know hardly anything about his backstory or how he became a bounty hunter, and I don’t know why he feels such a strong connection to the child. As for Baby Yoda, his purpose in the show is pretty summed up in that he’s a liability to Mando and he occasionally bails him out with really advanced Force abilities. He has no characteristics of his own, aside from being cute.

The plot for this show was always pretty threadbare, but I found it especially patience testing in the second season. I can understand the appreciation for a more ‘simplified’ version of Star Wars, but when half of an eight-episode season are filler episodes, I think it’s a little transparent that there’s not much they can, or want, to do with these characters. There’s plenty of sightseeing along the way, since every episode takes place on a different planet (or ship) and many of them throw in familiar Star Wars staples like stormtroopers, AT-STs, X-Wings, and Pit Droids (and, in one instance, an engine from Anakin’s pod racer. Thought you could slip that one by me, eh?). That’s not to mention characters appearing in this season who have been pretty significant in past stories, including two certain Jedi knights. Now, I have no problems with fan service that’s inserted organically into a story; unfortunately, no one at Disney or Lucasfilm seems capable of getting over dangling shiny objects in front of us like we’re idiot fans. And with so much of the story reliant on Mando going from place to place taking part in side quests like he’s in a video game, especially when he personally has no stake in most of these conflicts, you have to wonder whether or not this whole thing was just constructed to resurrect certain characters or have them shown in live action for the first time.

So, the plot is almost nonexistent and the leading characters are vastly underdeveloped, even after sixteen episodes. What about the side characters? What about the action and visuals? Well, one at a time. The series’ main villain, Moff Gideon (played by the great Giancarlo Esposito, how the mighty have fallen), is as underdeveloped as the protagonist. He wants Baby Yoda (to make his super battle droids, I guess?), he has an army, and he has the dark saber. That’s about it. He’s not particularly threatening and doesn’t come across as a brilliant tactician, but he’s got that dark saber alright. He also barely shows up in the show, with a brief appearance at the end of the first season and intermittent appearances on his star destroyer sprinkled throughout this season just to remind the audience he’s still out there. And I won’t spoil anything if I can help it, but the way he’s handled in the latter half of the season certainly doesn’t improve his reputation. Aside from him, you’ve got Cara Dune (Gina Carano), Greef Karga (Carl Weathers), Peli Motto (Amy Sedaris) and Mayfeld (Bill Burr), all of whom return from the first season to help out Mando in his various adventures for various reasons. All of these characters have far more personality than Mando and their motives for avoiding both the Empire and the New Republic are pretty clear, and indeed they provide a reprieve from the show’s dour tone and slow pace. Unfortunately, they’re all as sloppily written as everyone else: Cara Dune mentions being part of a crime worthy of a life sentence, not that anyone, even republic officers, care about it; Karga doesn’t seem to care that his entire bounty hunting organization fell apart because of Mando; Mayfeld puts an entire operation at risk just to tell off an imperial officer and shoot him in the face, they all essentially fill the purpose of ‘getting a team together’ for certain missions Mando gets involved in and nothing else. Not that he really needs the help, since his armor makes him basically invincible and he, again, has a vast array of weapons that go criminally underused.

And just what about the action? Disney Star Wars has a history of badly executed fight scenes, and The Mandalorian is not exempt. The choreography is silly and clearly telegraphed, the stormtroopers are once again nothing more than cannon fodder to be mowed down in each imperial base and never fire when they have the best chance, Mando only ever gets hit where he’s armored (including two hilarious scenes where he gets sprayed by no less than twenty lasers), he seems to forget that he has a flame thrower, a disintegrating rifle, AND wrist rockets, and the chase sequences are artificially lengthened when characters inexplicably become terrible at aiming or flying. The amount of fake surrenders and times where the heroes get saved at the very last minute is so frequent that it’s impossible to feel tension for any of these characters. And this is just the execution for these sequences: the setup is oftentimes even worse. In episode one, Mando has no reason to stay and help the villagers fight the Krayt Dragon, and even when he does, their last resort at killing it is by far the easiest and most cost-efficient option. In episode two, it’s explained that Mando’s passenger has eggs to transport which will die if he takes his ship into hyperspace. Not only does this not make any sense, Mando later flies the ship in risky, high speed escape maneuvers with the eggs on board that would be far more dangerous to any passengers on his ship. We even see his cargo getting thrown around. In episode 3, and any other episode with imperials involved, the Empire is made out to be as incompetent as the First Order: stormtroopers can’t aim, scout troopers crash their bikes into each other, there are no TIEs or turrets set up to protect their convoys from raids, their troops and precious cargo get trapped in the loading area where they can be jettisoned, it makes it all look like the whole organization is manned by teens and young adults rather than officers with years of experience. You know, like the Empire is (was, I guess).

I went into this show at the end of last year with an open mind, expecting a departure from the nonsense of the sequel trilogy, a new story with new characters that was entirely unrelated to the Skywalker saga. I guess the joke’s on me for expecting something that they weren’t going to deliver, but I think this goes to show there are deeper issues at the heart of this new era of Star Wars than superficial things like “Rey’s a Mary Sue!”, “There’s no world building!”, “The First Order is a joke!”, and “They massacred Luke Skywalker!”. I think that, not only is there a lack of new ideas pushing the new content (thus why they keep falling back on fan service), there just seems to be a lack of understanding when it comes to developing compelling characters or setting up interesting stories. The Mandalorian is just a tedious exercise of jumping from one grimy, run-down planet to the next, mowing down bad guys and throwing in call-backs to the original and prequel trilogies, with not nearly enough time spent among the characters getting familiar with each other, and just a meager plot thread running throughout. The best and perhaps most tender character moment comes at the very end of the season, and well-intentioned as it might’ve been, I don’t think it was earned. Visually and production-wise the show is quite impressive, but that’s no surprise; it’s a high budget series with only eight episodes per season. I just wish we could occasionally see a photogenic planet worth traveling to, similar to Naboo, Coruscant, or Bespin, every once in a while. Doesn’t anyone in this galaxy want to travel to someplace nice?

The Mandalorian is a garbage show and it baffles me that it’s so widely regarded as great television. Even if I was the type to turn off my brain and enjoy movies/tv without thinking about it, I’d still be bored. If this is the content we can expect from Filoni and Favreau, two guys who apparently ‘understand’ Star Wars better than anyone who wrote the sequel trilogy, well, no thanks.

Lady Gaga – Chromatica (2020) album review

Appearing at a time where disappointment, frustration, and restlessness are the national social norms, the new album from pop goddess Lady Gaga seems to inauspiciously fit the bill, when we needed it to instead provide some sense of joy and relief.

I feel like I’m one of the only people calling Chromatica out for being the bump in the road nuisance that it is; from what I’ve seen since its release, fan response and critical reviews of the album have been largely positive, lauding Gaga’s return to her dance-pop roots following her personal soft rock, singer-songwriter record Joanne in 2016 and her similar musical stylings for the soundtrack of 2018’s Academy Award-winning A Star is Born film. I personally have a soft spot for both, but being that I’ve adored Lady Gaga for most of her career to date and still consider her debut The Fame (2008) to be her best and most consistently entertaining album, I wasn’t entirely opposed to her returning to familiar territory. If it seemed reactionary to the middling reviews Joanne received, I just hoped Gaga wasn’t abandoning that trajectory of her musical powers for the sake of appeasement, but rather because there was much more in the old well to draw from, and her time distanced from electro-pop and dance tunes only made her heart grow fonder for it. To hear her describe these songs and her inspiration for writing them, one might even naturally conclude this was the case.

Nevertheless, even though it appears that all the pieces are in place for Chromatica to be a true comeback album for all her fans to enjoy, it’s really more of a showcase for how far behind the times Lady Gaga has fallen as popular music has progressed in the last ten years. The album is stacked with sixteen bite-size singles whose flavor all seem to disappear the moment they end off. Even the stronger and more memorable tracks, and there are a few, owe their success heavily to the heavy, bass-y production and polished, clear electronic synths and vocals, and not much of it to Gaga’s talent for songwriting. As for her features, Gaga brings in the talents of K-pop stars BLACKPINK, vocal pop songstress Ariana Grande, and living legend Elton John for a trio of different tracks, and all three are problematic in their own ways, and by no means related to the features themselves. “Sour Candy” first of all, while bouncy and upbeat, is about as debase as Gaga can get lyrically, and nothing about its hooks have given me the desire to revisit the tune. “Rain on Me” meanwhile has some of the most earnest melodies and club rhythms on the album, but it’s so damn short that one can’t help feeling like Ariana and Gaga never got around to finishing it. This same stigma applies to a variety of other songs here, including “Fun Tonight”, “Alice”, “Babylon”, and even the album’s one true highlight “911”. “Sine from Above”, her collaboration with Sir Elton, reaches high with its lyrics about feeling empowered by the music they create and how it gives them focus and purpose, but it’s about as bland a ballad as either of them have written to date, especially when compared against Gaga’s much more heartfelt ballads on Joanne and A Star is Born.

Fortunately, it’s not all bad news, though the good doesn’t come close to outweighing the filler. As previously stated, “911” is Gaga employing her electronic synth pop and heavy rhythms at her best, a song which would fit comfortably on 2011’s Born This Way album. In relation, the 3-part string interludes which take the album’s name are an interesting touch and a great way for her to set the tone, especially with the nasty way “Chromatica II” transitions into “911”. The leading single “Stupid Love”, despite its trash lyrics, really benefits from its 80’s synth bass lines and the strength of its hooks, and while it’s not among Gaga’s best singles, it does serve as an early highlight on the album, providing some hope after the major left turn with “Alice”. “Plastic Doll” is another quality track, dealing with Gaga’s frustration at being used and played with like a toy, and never going beyond some people’s perception of her for being just what her outward appearance represents. Despite being too short, like most every promising song on the album, it’s still catchy and enjoyable while it lasts. Lastly, while I’m not a big fan of the tune, “Babylon” does feature some clever wordplay as Gaga puts down any gossip surrounding her as just ‘babble’, and tells her haters to ‘babble on’, though aside from her insistence to ‘party ancient city style’, I don’t know what connection she means to make with Babylon historically.

It pains me to say this about my favorite pop goddess, but Lady Gaga has dropped this year her weakest album to date. Hard to believe that her sophomore effort, The Fame Monster, an EP with only 8 songs on it, has more fire and memorable moments to it than a full LP with twice as many songs over ten years later, but I guess that just speaks to the idea of quality over quantity. For all its good intentions and occasional moments of grandeur, Chromatica can’t overcome its eye-rolling lyrics, weak refrains, and sorely underdeveloped songs, and it can’t wash out the bitter taste and annoying detours in “Alice”, “Enigma”, and “1000 Doves”. It also does little, if anything, to evolve Lady Gaga as an artist in a musical landscape whose trends change faster than any other genre. Perhaps if popular opinion on this album changes for the worse, she may realize that it takes more than working with a certain producer (RedOne, in this case) or recapturing a certain sound to make a comeback. Or perhaps my own mind will change down the line, but for me personally, I know she’s capable of better, and perhaps a combination of the old and the new would have been better than simply turning Born This Way/Artpop era Gaga up to 11 and chopping it into little pieces. Whatever the case, I’ll chalk this one up as yet another disappointing new album in 2020, and hope for better next time.

The Irishman (2019) film review

When you see a movie poster with names like Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, and Joe Pesci on the acting roster, or Martin Scorsese directing from a script written by Oscar-winning screenwriter Steven Zaillian, it’s pretty crazy to think how difficult it was to actually get this movie made. It’s even wilder to consider that so many big-name Hollywood studios were scared off by the massive budget and doubted the film’s success with such veteran actors leading in place of younger, sexier stars from today’s movie scene. I mean, it’s Martin freaking Scorsese. This man has directed more classics and game-changing films in the last 50 years than most directors will ever aspire to. I’d say it’s pretty foreboding for the future of cinema that it took Netflix, this multi-billion dollar streaming service, to get this movie into production and out for our consumption rather than a more traditional studio going the usual theater-run route. Then again, if you’ve read my recent review on the new Star Wars movie, you might point out that I’m all too aware how concerned studios are with how much cash these movies rake in, not so much how movie lovers like me will appreciate them years from now, and you’d be right to do so.

In light of this, I’d say director Martin Scorsese’s frustration with franchise blockbusters taking away the theater experience from more thoughtful films like these is pretty well earned, and his remarks about Marvel movies last year came from a very real place considering the difficulties it took to finally bring this long-gestating passion project to life. But rather than argue what qualifies as true ‘cinema’ and what’s simply theme park entertainment, I’m here to talk about my most anticipated movie of 2019, one that I had heard was in the works years ago, maybe around 2016. All it took was for me to know that acting heavyweights Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci were finally making another mob movie with the director who’s arguably the best at making them, and for the first time, fellow Italian Al Pacino was going to be a part of this history. I didn’t need to know the story, or who else was in the cast, or who was writing the screenplay, or how long the film was going to be. I was sold from day one, because Martin Scorsese is without a doubt one of my favorite directors. Even into his 70’s, the man shows a passion for his work and attention to detail and thematic material in every new movie he makes, even lesser ones like Hugo and The Aviator which seem somewhat inconsequential compared to his masterpieces like Taxi Driver, Goodfellas, Raging Bull, and his Oscar-winning The Departed. Even his works of fiction, or heavily revised history as in the case of Gangs of New York, feel very authentic and true-to-life because of the detail he puts into his sets and the perspective with which he shapes the characters. And coming off his 2016 faith-exploring epic Silence, one of his most profound and deeply moving films to date, I feel like, in a way, Scorsese has been putting off The Irishman subconsciously because he’s been waiting until he was prepared, as a creator and artist, to tackle a project of this scope and this sense of personal reflection.

That is to say, The Irishman is at once quite different from his previous gangster epics, even as its choice of leads begs comparison with Goodfellas and Casino especially. Where those films were more concerned with the flashiness of the lifestyle, and portraying wise guys as parts of a large community of people who look after each other, The Irishman looks back on a life of crime with a leering sense of regret and facing one’s own mortality. It’s a slower-paced, more laid back film, told with the sort of gravelly authority of an old man recounting his regrets and offering his words of warning. On the surface, the film explores the rise of one Frank Sheeran, a former soldier during WWII who makes his way as a truck driver until Russell Bufalino, the head of the Bufalino family near Philadelphia, takes him under his wing and grooms him for service. Eventually, Sheeran is tasked with being the bodyguard of Teamsters union leader Jimmy Hoffa, and his loyalty to both Hoffa and Bufalino strains his relationship to each of them, as well as with his own family, until he has to make a choice that he’s forced to live with the rest of his life. I’ve seen numerous historians complaining about the historical accuracy of the film, particularly certain events in the third act, but Scorsese isn’t directing a documentary here. Like Goodfellas, Casino, The Wolf of Wall Street, The Aviator, and even Raging Bull, he has a point to telling all these real-life stories the way he does. In this case, if a film like Goodfellas glamorizes how gangsters had all the money in the world and could do pretty much anything they wanted, The Irishman reveals the ugly other side of the coin in which a life of excess and materialism can leave you empty and hollow in the end. Frank Sheeran, with his own mob lawyers, appears to be able to get away with whatever he wants in this film, and he’s able to provide well for his family and keep them safe, but in the end, it’s the very same means by which he saw to all that which leaves him a hollowed-out shell of his former self.

So one could easily think, “Well, these people are killers and thieves, so they get what they deserve, right?” However, these characters are never so black-and-white. After all, they’re still people, and building off the themes from Goodfellas where gangsters are usually members of a society of families looking after each other, I think Scorsese empathizes with the fact that these gangsters think of themselves as doing the right thing, making the right choices, to help as many people as they can. Frank Sheeran is not portrayed as some trigger-happy murderer who indulges in the dirty work; as he himself describes it in the film, ‘it was like being in the army. You followed orders, you report back, and you got rewarded.’ Crime boss Russell Bufalino similarly isn’t some cold, remorseless villain, but rather imparts to Sheeran the importance of spending time with his family, and he’s there to help Sheeran out of a few jams, perhaps out of a sense of kinship, and warns his Teamsters partner Jimmy Hoffa multiple times about his handling of the organization, even as a friend, before reaching the ultimate conclusion. Scorsese seems to be saying that these were just regular people underneath, in a complicated political struggle where loyalty was hard to come by, and they each had to make decisions they were prepared to live with. He’s viewing them through the lens that they were just people, not criminals specifically, and because of that it becomes natural for the viewer to see them that way as well. This is a big reason why this movie works so well.

Like the rest of Scorsese’s modern films, and many of his earlier ones as well, The Irishman has the depth and detail to it to satisfy the most demanding of moviegoing audiences, while also being accessible enough for more casual viewers to enjoy. For it to be a three-and-a-half hour movie, I wouldn’t be remiss to expect Scorsese not to attempt to please everyone and make a well-rounded movie, and yet somehow he always does. It feels much shorter than it is, partially due to really tasteful editing that slows down for the more personal, reflective moments and picks up through the periods of exposition to advance the plot. It’s a movie that doesn’t feel the need to over-explain anything; Scorsese has faith that most people watching his movies are smart enough to pick up on his themes for themselves, and develop empathy for these characters without being forced to. Thus, despite the massive length of the movie, I can’t think of any moment that feels wasted or that it went on for too long. The pieces are all there to build the landscape of history, scheming, and relationships around the three central characters, who remain at the forefront of the movie’s focus. It’s a difficult balancing act to pull off, and credit where credit is due, writer Steven Zaillian is not exactly a stranger to making emotional epics like this one run like well-oiled machines (see: Schindler’s List).

On a purely technical level, The Irishman exemplifies all of Martin Scorsese’s traits and ambitions as a filmmaker come into focus once more. The use of narration for exposition, the attention to detail in recreating 1950’s and 1960’s urban America, the expert camerawork, the realistic dialogue, the use of sound and music, or lack thereof, to create and release tension, the willingness to use restraint to let his scenes breathe and his characters really feel alive. These are all things I’ve come to expect going into his movies, and they’re why a film like The Irishman is so refreshing after a year of overhyped blockbusters and cultural and political statements distracting people away from truly compelling storytelling. This time, however, Scorsese has given into innovation to help sell this story, similar to how Hugo in 2011 became his first movie shot digitally rather than on film. The de-aging technology, used primarily on De Niro, Pesci, and Pacino, has been one of the most-talked about aspects of the movie, and I don’t have much to say about it aside from that it’s used sparingly enough so that you only really notice it when it first appears early on in the film. It’s not a focal point of the movie, and I don’t think Scorsese meant for it to be anything more than a preferable alternative to hiring young actors to play the same roles at a younger age, an alternative that would’ve undoubtedly cost the studio less money, but ultimately, I think, would’ve made the characters harder to relate to. Seeing Robert De Niro play the same Frank Sheeran through 50 years of the man’s life, well, it just reads like you’re really watching the same person grow old and come to accept what his life has done to him, and that has the more profound effect which I think Scorsese was really going for.

The Irishman is the kind of movie that just doesn’t get made very often anymore. It isn’t concerned with making all its money back, it’s not trying to make a bold, perhaps controversial social statement, it doesn’t live in the shadow of movies from decades past, and it isn’t hurrying along at a breakneck pace with young, sexy stars delivering meta-one liners for you to repost on your Instagram account. It’s a meditative film with respect for its audience and a message for them to digest over time and hold onto as they grow older. And it may well be the last crime saga we’ll ever get with these names attached to it, which is cause enough to celebrate its existence, were it not also a brilliant movie in its own right. Personally, I believe time validates art, and as such it’s far too soon to consider The Irishman to be a true classic (the term ‘instant classic’ is just nonsense), and I wouldn’t yet call it a masterpiece, even though that word has lost all its meaning in the last decade, but I do think The Irishman is one of the most significant films to come out of 2019, and from Netflix’s filmography in general. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a full-course meal, one that leaves you satisfied, fulfilled, and better for having partaken in it, even if it doesn’t have the happiest of endings. The Irishman is one of the best movies of 2019, and I’m glad to see it got plenty of attention in this year’s Oscar nominations. Whatever it wins or doesn’t win, however, it’s well worth seeing for anyone who still hasn’t.

Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (2019) film review

Disney’s new trilogy of Star Wars movies this decade may well go down as the biggest missed opportunity in cinematic history.

Most reviewers right about now will preface with statements about how they ‘grew up with Star Wars’, or they’ve been ‘fans since day one’ and that the saga has meant so much to them over the years. I’m not going down that path; my hope is that my close familiarity with the saga will manifest in how I discuss the movies. I’m not that overweight neckbeard you always see in Wal Mart with bold-frame glasses wearing a Star Wars t-shirt to match his Star Wars hat, ready to throw down in a hissy fit the moment you mention The Last Jedi. Nevertheless, I think my trajectory as a fan has been pretty consistent with a lot of fans since Disney’s regime over the saga took over in 2012; outraged at first, intrigued by the casting and potential spinoff ideas as they were announced, excited by the possibilities introduced in The Force Awakens (2015), somewhat satisfied with Rogue One (2016), then having mixed feelings about the direction of the franchise after episode 8 in 2017, not bothering to see Solo in theaters in 2018 because literally no one asked for his origin story, and finally, after multiple fired directors, utter disrespect towards the fans, and stories about George Lucas’s disappointment in the sequels coming out, not to mention several desperate leaks from Lucasfilm to hype up the closing chapter to the trilogy, and I just feel indifferent towards Star Wars for the first time. Even the new show The Mandalorian on Disney’s new streaming service, while it is somewhat decent, isn’t enough to really inspire me. I think, after all, the biggest sin Disney could’ve committed in creating these movies is to make people who have loved Star Wars their whole lives just become ambivalent towards it. Not angry, not tired, not hateful, just not caring. And that’s where we’re at.

I can draw a lot of comparisons right now to Game of Throne’s laughably bad ending with season 8 earlier this year. The Rise of Skywalker, like that season, is effective in every aspect aside from the writers behind it; the visual effects, the actors, the cinematography, the costume and production design, everything looks great and feels fully-realized from what the script demanded of the film. The problem, in both cases, is of course that what the script demanded was complete nonsense. It’s hard to talk about this movie without indulging in spoilers but I’ll do my best; essentially, The Rise of Skywalker is as much a retread of the events of 1983’s Return of the Jedi as director (and co-writer) JJ Abrams could pull off following the previous film, The Last Jedi, which took the story and characters nowhere significant and stranded the plot for 2 and a half hours. I don’t think anyone watching these movies can miss that they were driven by the agendas of two corporate heads, Bob Iger and Kathleen Kennedy of Disney and Lucasfilm respectively, rather than by the creative minds of people with a interesting, new story to tell. Iger, thinking of his company’s success, wanted the new movies to be safe and easily digested by the masses, straying as far from the much-derided prequel trilogy as possible. Kennedy meanwhile wanted to shake up the galaxy with more diverse casting and strong female leads dominating the story. Anytime a director or writer has deviated from these plans in the slightest over the past few years, they’ve gotten the axe. JJ Abrams has been cooperative, delivering with The Force Awakens something both longtime fans and the shareholders at Disney really wanted at the time. Now, with The Rise of Skywalker, he’s had to walk back the story after the backlash for The Last Jedi, returning with as much nostalgia and familiar sights and themes as he could pack into this movie. It’s safe to say that, in the end, both Kennedy and Iger got what they wanted from this trilogy… but at what cost? Even they didn’t support Rian Johnson’s eighth chapter of the series enough to stick the landing with his curveball ‘twists’ in the saga’s ninth episode; they gave into the fans and offered up as predictable a closing chapter as could be expected.

I know I sound like every Star Wars fan you never want to talk to right now, but it’s only because I feel like a new Star Wars trilogy is one of the easiest things to get right. You have a vast mythology to work from, including six movies, a few animated TV shows, and countless books and video games introducing new worlds and characters. Instead, Disney has wiped away all those books from the canon, dismantled Lucasarts games, and introduced a set of bland new characters with potentially interesting stories whose arcs never really go anywhere meaningful. The trilogy lead Rey becomes basically all-powerful in the first movie, and never faces much adversity from there. Her entire character is wrapped up in the mystery of who her parents were; she isn’t allowed to grow and develop and face challenges like Luke and Anakin did in the trilogies before, and thus she doesn’t really carve out a place in the story. Meanwhile Finn, the character with arguably the most potential (a stormtrooper who defected from The First Order because his moral compass wouldn’t allow him to slaughter innocents), has his arc wrapped up in The Force Awakens also, and has nothing significant to do in the entirety of the two movies to follow. The one truly compelling character in this trilogy has been its villain, Kylo Ren (or Ben Solo), a young Jedi-turned-Sith who’s constantly torn between serving his new master and fighting for the people who still love him. In the end, he’s served little purpose aside from providing major plot reveals and being beaten again and again by Rey, undermining him as a viable threat to the heroes. For him to be the last surviving Skywalker in the saga, his place in the story has been pretty shamelessly overshadowed by a girl with virtually no training proclaiming herself as a Jedi with little to no justification.

And yes, I do intend to eventually discuss this particular movie in this review, rather than the trilogy as a whole. The Rise of Skywalker is a mess, but it’s a mess that was inevitable, with two proven-inept screenwriters attempting to salvage a story and win back fans after arguably the most controversial film in the saga. This movie is heavy with nostalgia, whether it’s from the music, familiar plot points in the 2nd and 3rd acts, or returning characters and cameos such as Emperor Palpatine, Lando Calrissian, and (for a very brief moment) Wedge Antilles. New characters and worlds are introduced and then quickly disposed of, and plot points and questions from earlier movies are either never addressed or get quickly glossed over, with pacing so choppy and blindingly fast that the audience doesn’t have time to process them. And if the plot of The Last Jedi was essentially the longest chase scene ever, then The Rise of Skywalker is basically the most tedious scavenger hunt ever. For convenience, the main characters always seem to end up with just the items they need to get to what they’re doing next, and even when they’re on a First Order Star Destroyer, they never really seem to be in any kind of danger. Rey is seen to use Force powers previously unseen in the saga, that no living Force user could have possibly taught her, making her seem even more invincible than before, as if Kathleen Kennedy wanted to give a giant middle-finger to every fan who criticized her character for being a Mary Sue. For all the fast-paced action and excitement captured in the visual storytelling, there’s no real tension to this movie, and the final showdown devolves into comic book silliness only screenwriter Chris Terrio could be responsible for. I can’t even remember rolling my eyes so much in the theater before, from all the out-of-place meta humor, the desperate jabs at fan service, and the nonsensical clutter filling up the screen in order to make the last battle seem more climactic than it really is. If this is how the last chapter of this 9-part saga is supposed to end, it really doesn’t feel like a definitive ending. There are too many loose ends, and too little of the story feels connected at all to the original six movies that George Lucas created.

If I sound like I hate this movie, trust me, I don’t. Like I said, I’ve just gotten to be indifferent at this point, and I’ve seen other movies this year I disliked much more (most of them made by Disney). I don’t envy JJ Abrams the task he had set for him in directing this, especially given Carrie Fisher’s passing in 2016 since Leia was supposed to play a much larger role in this film originally. And despite my disappointment in the underwritten characters, I really do love Adam Driver, Daisy Ridley, Oscar Isaac, and John Boyega as actors, and there really is nothing wrong with their performances in this trilogy. But I think this all goes to show what happens when a studio like Disney prioritizes their bottom line over quality storytelling, because it’s clear now that the creators behind this trilogy had no set plan from the beginning aside from making money off the Star Wars name. And I’ll give the creators their credit: the films, even The Rise of Skywalker, are all entertaining enough to watch, but once they’re over and you start to think back on them, and question the plot points and character choices, they all start to fall apart pretty quick. Again, much like Game of Thrones, it just comes across like the characters are rushing through an obstacle course to reach bigger moments in the story, and nothing that happens in between needs to make sense. And, little sidebar here, but is it really too much to ask that there be some more, I don’t know, WAR in these Star Wars movies? All the large-scale battles in this trilogy have just seemed like afterthoughts, like they needed to be there to echo similar battles in the original trilogy. I get that the focus is much more on the characters’ relationships with each other, but this is the third film in the saga and these characters have barely spent any time with each other, so you’re not really crushing it on that end either.

The Rise of Skywalker has ultimately left me with more questions than answers: why have none of these Force powers been used by any of the Jedi if they existed all along? Aren’t we just muddying the waters and removing all tension if there are no rules to how the Force can be used, especially when it’s used so haphazardly by someone who isn’t really even a Jedi? Where the HELL did Maz Kanata get Luke’s lightsaber, and how in the world is Rey using the same lightsaber in this movie when it was destroyed in The Last Jedi? Doesn’t Palpatine’s return negate Anakin’s sacrifice to bring balance to the Force at the end of episode 6? If he can just come back from the dead, why should we believe he can ever really be definitively beaten? And most of all, what has been the point of this story? It hasn’t added anything significant to the Skywalker saga or the Star Wars universe itself; if anything, it feels smaller than ever when you watch these movies. It feels much more like our own world. It just feels fake, and contrived. And that’s why, to me, at this point there are truly only six Star Wars movies. The rest has been Disney cashing in on the brand name. And this failed, misguided attempt at a sequel trilogy is the only one we’ll ever get with the original cast returning, John Williams composing music, and potentially George Lucas’ creative vision for the Star Wars galaxy to drive it. I can’t imagine these films being any less successful if the politics and the financial incentives took a back seat to some actually talented writers crafting a new, unique, and special story. That’s why, to me, this may be the biggest missed opportunity in movies ever.

Opeth – In Cauda Venenum (2019) album review

Track listing:

  1. Garden of Earthly Delights (3:29)
  2. Dignity (6:35)
  3. Heart in Hand (8:30)
  4. Next of Kin (7:08)
  5. Lovelorn Crime (6:34)
  6. Charlatan (5:29)
  7. Universal Truth (7:21)
  8. The Garroter (6:44)
  9. Continuum (7:23)
  10. All Things Will Pass (8:31)

Opeth’s new record In Cauda Venenum, Swedish for “Poison in the Tail”, is what you listen to when you’re yearning for obscure 70’s prog rock to make a comeback but you also like metal and you enjoy the verbal confusion of the two genres being unable to reconcile with each other. It’s an album that searches for its meaning in industrious musical landscapes and ultimately loses its soul to the overwhelming density. It’s an album with a clear distinction for its instrumental powers but employs them with a heedless voracity against genre conventions. It can’t decide if it wants to be forward thinking or appeal to the hipster shut-ins that live in the past glories of their dad’s 8-track collection.

And honestly, at this point in Opeth’s discography, for all the fans who have accepted the band’s trajectory in this new style, I can’t decide if all this is particularly bothersome or if it’s just what we’ve all come to expect. Because Opeth earned their stripes in the late 90’s and early-to-mid 2000’s as being a progressive melodic death metal band. Their influences from groups like Camel, Deep Purple, Genesis, and Jethro Tull were always lurking in the background even in their heavier work, but these were influences Opeth never felt the need to succumb to until recently. They were among the few who recognized that reinventing the idea of the metal riff for the progressive genre wasn’t always about playing around with unconventional time signatures. They played with Gothic melodies and gave their nastiest cuts a healthy dose of old-world, sinister ambiguity, giving the band a looming, ghostly presence. They didn’t overcompensate with loud production and chugging riffs because their heaviness was implied through their melodic and lyrical poetry. That’s what made them special, that and the fact that they just sounded so effortlessly evil compared to bands that tried so hard to be, and that’s why people like me can’t get enough of albums like Still Life, My Arms Your Hearse, Blackwater Park, and Ghost Reveries. Nothing else truly sounded like classic Opeth. These days, even Opeth doesn’t.

But anyone who’s been following Opeth since their 2011 album Heritage has seen this coming. The band has set aside the mean riffs, the growling vocals, and the hard-edged production in favor of more delicate and flavorful progressive rock, at least I assume that’s how they see it. I first got into Opeth around 2014 and 2015, due to the fact that while I’ve been a metalhead for about half my 26 year-old life, only about half of that time have I tolerated harsh vocals in my metal music. But even as new as I was to Opeth at the time, I could tell there was more than just the clean vs. harsh vocals that set the newer Opeth apart from the old. The band had taken on a new mantle and didn’t seem to concern themselves with whether their fans were going along with it or not. They weren’t writing many epics anymore, there was a greater use of pillowy keyboards in their mix and the percussion was more geared to a jazz style rather than a metallic style, and soft acoustic songs tended to dominate their material rather than pervade unexpectedly in lengthier songs. And I may have even been willing to accept this change of pace for Opeth if the band itself seemed particularly interested in their own projects, but albums like Heritage and 2014’s Pale Communion just sounded largely lifeless. I’ve often wondered if it’s any coincidence that over the years Opeth frontman and primary songwriter Mikael Akerfeldt has had a close working relationship with producer and musician Steven Wilson, formerly of Porcupine Tree, a man whose own music tends to be much mellower than the genres he’s associated with, and I do know that Pale Communion featured Wilson as a producer. In any case, though, my ears did perk up a little at the release of 2016’s Sorceress, as Opeth appeared to be transitioning their progressive rock into new territory, with stoner-heavy riffs and more aggressive production, but even that album was plagued with lots of meandering and navel-gazing, almost as though Akerfeldt was making a pitch at a new career for writing elevator music. There just wasn’t enough there to get excited about Opeth’s new material, even as strong as singles like “Sorceress” and “The Wilde Flowers” proved to be.

In Cauda Venenum had me convinced it would break that spell with its leading single, “Heart in Hand”, an eight and a half minute song that, while not particularly heavy, was very busy and dense and introduced some very tasty guitar licks and solos, not to mention fantastic drumming from Martin Axenrot and some of Akerfeldt’s most daring clean vocals. Mind you, I wasn’t expecting Opeth to return to its death metal finesse, but I had the notion they’d be injecting some much-needed life into their ambient 2010’s sound. “Dignity”, the follow-up single, gave the same impression at first, but much like Sorceress‘s “The Wilde Flowers”, it quickly derails after a promising and enticing first half into milky, clean guitar and gentle sighing. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. What exactly was Opeth’s direction with this new record? Are they actively trying to reinvent themselves, or are they just formally adding snapshots of themselves as befits the current course they’ve set?

The short answer is, I wish that I knew. The long answer is that this album is certainly more lively than their other recent releases. It’s longer, each song is denser, the band is performing at their highest technical level, and the album is serviced with a certain level of mystery which makes each song feel like a piece of a larger whole. The issue is, I’m not really sure what it all adds up to. It’s a challenging album that doesn’t offer much reward for your patience, which is something I find myself saying about progressive metal a little too often these days. Opeth’s music has historically had the capacity to swoop in like an ominous winged beast with its unpredictable but well-executed transitions and maniacally evil riffs, as though the band themselves were actively threatening you. This side of Opeth is nowhere to be found here; with the exception of a few genuinely charming tracks (“Heart in Hand”, “Charlatan”, and “The Garroter”), the band isn’t building songs from the ground up so much as tacking ideas together until they’re long enough to complete a part of the narrative. The album has an air of grandiosity and inventiveness to it but the melodies are tonally all over the place and turn out to be unsatisfying most of the time. Nowhere is this more true than the track “Next of Kin”, which has the menacing, brooding quality of a classic Opeth song but sounds hopelessly convoluted by comparison. “Charlatan” has almost a self-deprecating irony to its title in that Opeth attempts a fusion of progressive art rock with modern djent, an experiment which could have gone worse and does provide a certain hyperbolic energy to boost the album’s pacing with a shorter track (still over 5 minutes in length). “The Garroter” meanwhile crosses over into soft jazz, complete with percussion brushes and a syncopated keyboard rhythm behind its enigmatic melodies, but it’s so watered down and droll that I imagine any true jazz musicians are turning their noses up along with all the metalheads that Opeth has successfully alienated a fourth time with this record.

This 13th album in the Opeth discography to me doesn’t showcase significant growth in the band’s songwriting or virtuosity, either. While the band doesn’t sound quite as lost here as they did on Heritage, they’re also still not filling their songs with compelling material end to end. There are no veritable singles here, just a few songs that are better as whole than the rest. Instead the band’s identity seems to hinge on their melodic references to obscure progressive artists from the late 60’s and early 70’s, and Opeth frontman Mikael Akerfeldt seems to think that if fans give a listen to some early Renaissance and Lucifer’s Friend records, then they’ll somehow “get” these newer Opeth albums. But that isn’t what Opeth is about to me, nor to a significant portion of their fan base. My friend Josh compared the band’s direction to a hypothetical scenario of Judas Priest, my favorite band, releasing a bunch of smooth jazz albums. It’d be interesting, but that’s not why I listen to Judas Priest. At the time I argued that progressive rock has always been a part of who Opeth are, in the background, whereas smooth jazz has never been a part of Priest’s sound, but at this point, I think this experiment of so tirelessly wearing their influences on their sleeve has played out. Despite that In Cauda Venenum feels like the biggest record Opeth has put out in this decade, it’s the one that’s left me the least reason to return to it seeking vilification. I was bored through most of my first listen, and found myself skipping around in subsequent listens. It moves too slowly, it’s patience testing, it’s demanding, it’s dull, and it’s so damn highbrow that the band can’t seem to have fun with their virtuosity anymore. It’s the kind of record I imagine people listening to whilst sitting in tall leather chairs near a roaring fireplace with a library of books behind them and a dog curled up on the Persian rug at their feet, endlessly puffing at their pipes.

If there’s a point to all this madness, Opeth hasn’t reached it yet.

Joker (2019) movie review

This movie could’ve been, and deserved to be, the ultimate supervillain origin story. It isn’t. It is instead an alright comic book film with a standout central performance that just happened to be made during a time where mass shootings in the U.S. are more common than rainfall.

I don’t get out to go see comic book movies much anymore, and I’d like to think that even if I was a Marvel/DC nerd, as some people who are very close to me are, that I’d still be pretty jaded by them at this point. As acclaimed Hollywood director Martin Scorsese has recently pointed out, in a quote for which he’s come under fire from comic book fans and actors and filmmakers that work on them, they’re not often the type of cinema of people trying to convey emotional and psychological experiences to other people, and when they are it’s usually at the very surface level. I’m not usually in the mood for big, loud, shiny entertainment, for which my friend suggests you have to ‘turn your brain off and just sit and enjoy’, when I watch movies. And when I do watch comic book movies, I’m always hoping for a film like Logan and The Dark Knight that transcends the genre boundaries and offers something totally unique, and for most of this decade, neither DC nor Marvel’s studios have been delivering in that regard.

What drew me to Joker, then, wasn’t so much that it looked like a darker, grittier, and much less flashy comic book origin story, nor even that Joaquin Phoenix, one of this generation’s finest leading actors, was taking on the role. It was more that Joker, from all its teasers, posters, and other promotions, hardly looked like a comic book movie at all. It was shaping up to be a psychological thriller, a crime drama, and a character study all in one, presenting the classic Gotham supervillain as more of an anti-hero who lost his way rather than a one-dimensional killer who was always predisposed towards violence. In my mind, the whole point of an origin story, and what Hollywood seems to keep missing the boat on, is to show the familiar central character on a complex personal journey to take on the mantle of who we as the audience recognize him. The inner change and development of this character needs to manifest in his choices, not by the items he picks up or the adventures he goes on or the one-liners he drops. That was my expectation of Joker, that it would show how an ordinary man could be broken down by an uncaring society and transformed, through the choices he makes, into a horrific killer.

And since I mentioned Martin Scorsese above, it’s worth noting that Joker owes quite a bit of its identity to two of his classic films, Taxi Driver (1976) and The King of Comedy (1982). It couldn’t have been more on the red nose at times, with the gun to the head gestures, the public figure running for a high office, Arthur Fleck’s worship of talk show host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro), and the late 70’s urban setting. It was almost as though director Todd Phillips was consciously calling attention to the fact that he lives in the shadow of a much more creative and talented filmmaker. These were issues which I thought were coincidental at first, but as the film went on it became a little too obvious where much of the inspiration for the story and the character came from. Phillips’ direction was among the issues that had me worried about the film going in, seeing as how the most notable films on his rep include the Hangover trilogy, and the silly frat guy humor that made up those movies wasn’t likely to translate well to a grim character study of a menacing and mentally unstable killer.

But let me also be clear, Joaquin Phoenix is one of my favorite actors working today. One needs only to see him in Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master (2012) or Spike Jonze’s Her (2013) to grasp how fearless and committed this man can be as an actor, and I had no doubts in my mind when he was cast as Arthur Fleck that he would do something special with the role. Even if the movie he was in turned out bad, I knew he would be the best part about it, and it’s a good thing, too. The film centers drastically on him, to the point I don’t think there was a single scene (maybe a few frames near the end) that he wasn’t in. This take on Fleck demands him to be mentally ill, socially awkward, and darkly comic, all while selling the proposal that the Joker’s signature devious cackle is actually a painful throat condition he’s had to deal with for much of his life. It’s hard to imagine anyone else being more convincing in the role; Phoenix rides the line between dry depression and over-the-top silliness so well that he’s frighteningly realistic in his interpretation of the character. And while the film does go out of its way to recall Christopher Nolan’s realist crime drama take on the villain in The Dark Knight a few times, including a certain shot near the end of the movie with the Joker looking out at a chaotic Gotham city from the back seat of a police car, Phoenix never really seems like he’s trying to recapture the lightning in a bottle that Heath Ledger so astonishingly realized a decade ago. This is his own version of the Joker, and one that hinges just as crucially on his sympathetic performance as Arthur Fleck.

But if a great performance is enough to sell films like this, it’s the writing that keeps them afloat, and to me Joker isn’t a masterpiece in this regard. Arthur Fleck is undercooked in this film, a character I wanted to admire and root for to the point that even though I knew where the story was going, I was hoping against any logical reason that he wouldn’t make the wrong choice in the end and become the psychopathic killer he was always going to be. The trouble is, he just isn’t likeable enough. He doesn’t start out as a particularly good or well-intended person. He’s easy to feel sorry for, considering his horrific past and depressing circumstances putting him where he is, but empathy and actually liking a character aren’t necessarily the same thing. And I know, the tagline in the trailers is that Arthur realizes his life’s a comedy, not a tragedy, but the narrative frames the character as the victim of mental illness and an uncaring society driving him to violence. It’s set up as a tragedy, but Fleck doesn’t really have any room to fall from grace in the end. And while I do appreciate that the film has things to say about the current gun culture and mental illness, as well as its neglect at being addressed, I can’t help thinking that this contribution to the national dialogue got in the way of telling a more personal story, and that it hinders its own arguments by framing the issue as being a black and white conflict between the rich and the poor.

Joker is a movie with lots of potential and lofty ambitions, and it aggressively attempts to satisfy them all. It stumbles around at a slow pace for a while, but for all its narrative shortcomings in its first and second acts, the story does come together pretty strong in the third. When Arthur Fleck finally takes on the mantle as the Joker and feels released and relieved of everything and everyone holding him down all throughout his difficult life, it’s palpable to the audience, and liberating in a dark and twisted way. It’s a predictable conclusion, and the twists the film attempts to reach that conclusion are unsurprising, especially if you’ve seen the two aforementioned Scorsese films, but the ending is not unearned. And after all, the film does shine a mirror back at the audience as it forces us to contemplate, every person that Arthur Fleck murders on his path toward becoming the Joker behaved pretty despicably, either to him or in front of him, so maybe they deserved it, right? I don’t know, I liked this movie and I didn’t like it. I have no doubt most people that see it are going to love it, and it’s possible that it’ll become a more important movie in the upcoming months than I expect it to. But since I left the theater this past weekend after seeing it, I can’t help feeling a certain emptiness about it, as though regardless how good the movie appeared or seemed to be, it wasn’t any more than the sum of it’s parts. The film seems to take itself more seriously as a piece of political commentary than anyone else will, and as a comic book film, it just isn’t the most impressive entry in the genre I’ve seen in recent years, instead relying on echoing the work of better and more influential films. I guess I can say, though, that since the DCEU started up with 2013’s Man of Steel, Joker is probably the best of the bunch up to this point. But if DC is still convinced that what made Christopher Nolan’s reinvention of the comic book genre so special back in 2005 was nothing more than the dark, grittiness and realness of those movies, then their universe is as doomed as it was when Zack Snyder directed its first 3 entries.

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