“Lord
of the Rings” as Pure Adventure
As fictional universes go I’ve seen more
creative (“Star Wars”), more insightful (“Mulholland Drive”), and more
satirical (“Triplets of
Belleville”). But “The Lord of the
Rings”
is a breathtaking visual feast of sweeping vistas, deep valleys, lush
trees, soaring clouds, stunning castles, and the massive scope of
armies—both human and four-legged—marching across wide open fields.
Battle sequences are awesome in their scope and complexity, as monsters
are fought in dungeons, on the open fields, and in the shadows of high
castle walls.
But on the level of interesting, sympathetic
characters, which is just as crucial to making a successful
adventure?
The incendiary comment by
Roger
Ebert,
which prompted the response from the reader at
www.flickfilosopher.com, is as
follows:
“One feels at the end that nothing actual and
human has been at stake; cartoon characters in a fantasy world have been
brought along about as far as it is possible for them to come, and while
we applaud the achievement, the trilogy is more a work for adolescents (of
all ages) than for those hungering for truthful emotion thoughtfully paid
for.”
James
O’Ehley writes:
“Nowhere did any of its
characters feel like real people with real emotions – they were simply too
nobly self-sacrificing, too evil, etc. for that – they are mere
archetypes.”
Walter
Chaw
of Film Freak Central:
“The characters have ceased to evolve in any
meaningful way and no significant time is given over anyway to any
particular one of the principals—something sort of amazing, given that the
film runs just shy of 210 minutes. The result of that lack of focus and
depth is a picture comprised entirely of frankly stunning special effects
set-pieces, long walks in slow-motion to predetermined destinations, and
what feels like an eternity of strained conversations about arcane
locations and events held in stage whisper.”
And
Daniel
Kimmel
of the Worcester Telegram Gazette:
“There [are]
numerous…characters involved, but we get neither characterization
nor plot. It's just the guys we're rooting for against really ugly
monsters. The battle scenes are intended to thrill, but they are so driven
by special effects and a lack of anything invested in the individuals
fighting that they are merely spectacle.”
They’re right—there’s
not much sense of the three-dimensional to the likes of the
Fellowship. Once we discard the illusion of the moral
inner-struggles brought on by the Ring (see
“Lord of the Rings” and the
Moral Quandary of Good vs. Evil), we are left with basically
one-note characters. To wit:
Sam: Let’s go, Mr. Frodo!
Believe in goodness because it’s good!
Frodo:
Let’s go, but I’m gonna
pretend to be conflicted about it and look
constipated!
Gandalf:
Let’s go, but I’m gonna be
real mysterious and vague about everything!
Merry/Pippin: Let’s go, but I’m gonna act
real stupid!
Cate Blanchett: You guys go, while I
stay here and act real mysterious and vague!
Gimli: Let’s go, and kill a lot of
stuff along the way!
Orlando Bloom: Let’s go, and I’m gonna kill
even more stuff along the way!
Aragorn does get a few moments of
doubting, but when you consider he’s the title character of a 201 minute
movie, these instances are spread very, very thinly over ten hours.
The sacrifice of immortality made by Elf Queen What’s-Her-Name effects us
like something we read in the newspaper or that pops up when we check our
email. For escapism, these characterizations are more-or-less
fine—but for a “serious” movie that just won Best Picture? Say what
you will about literary or allegorical interpretations of the grand scheme
of “LOTR,” those subtexts are not what gets much of the trilogy’s screen
time. What does get the screen for most of that time are supposed to
be people, and they aren’t very impressive.
“Lord of the Rings” as Pure
Adventure is perhaps the most meaningful essay of this
collection and accounts for the trilogy’s “junior” feel.
I could
only work up genuine emotions for a few isolated scenes involving Gollum
and the brothers ‘mir. And there are those touching bits involving
Sam insisting that there will be a journey home, things of that sort, but
they are few. Part of the problem is that there is no real
opportunity for the characters to choose between good and evil, or choose
between much of anything. There is certainly the illusion of these
things (see
The Moral Quandary of Good vs.
Evil), but the great moral battle of “Lord of the
Rings” is “do we fight here, or do we fight over there?” To repeat
some of Good vs. Evil, we are shown no alternatives
to Middle-Earth and since all of Middle-Earth is threatened, no one has
the ability to run away and hide. Their choices to stay and fight
are not choices at all, not the result of bravery or cowardice.
Choices made—Aragorn decides to return to the throne, Frodo accepts his
quest, Elf Queen What’s-Her-Name gives up immortality—are so generically
preordained and made without any internal exploration that they don’t feel
like choices at all either, merely archetypes marching along as they
must.