Through rain and sleet and sold-out premieres

  • Reading time:6 mins read

Well. That was better. Actually, I think this is the only one of the three theatrical cuts which felt satisfactory as-was.

I notice that each movie has a completely different feel to its direction — this, despite the fact that they were all done at once. It must be in the editing; each movie was edited by a different person. The guy behind the second movie was an old fellow who had edited lots of movies, going back decades. The first and third movies were edited more specifically by people close to Peter Jackson. And the editing was far better here.

Whereas every cut in The Two Towers felt like it propelled me into another universe, this one flows. And there is enough cross-reference that one is never for want for relative context between the story threads. It fits together in such a way that it persists as one coherent, intense hunk-o-movie, and only seems awkward when Sean Astin is in the frame. Well, that and some of the Smeagol sequence at the very beginning. (What’s with the close-ups?) Overall, Gollum is far less annoying than before; I do give that. The toothy bit in the opening is kind of weird, though.

I like the end credits.

King Theoden strikes me as the most interesting characer in this movie. He is to Return of the King what Boromir is to Fellowship of the Ring. If you follow. Meanwhile, Aragorn has hardly a larger role than Faramir. Curious.

Is it just me, or is this movie an awful lot more violent than the first two combined? Stranglings; whackings-over-the-head with huge, pointy rocks; huge, meaty punches in the face; impalements… Some people have complained about the scene where Gandalf beats the hell out of Denethor, with his staff. It amused me.

This following bit I typed up before I left:

Actually, Now that I’ve reread the books for the first time in a decade, I’m able to better appreciate Jackson’s choices in adapting The Two Towers. As is often the case, everyone in the universe except — apparently — me is exactly backwards on this matter. It’s not that bad an adaptation for its part — at least, not in the detail. Not on a surface level. Even the big changes (Elves in Rohan; Aragorn’s cliff-diving; Faramir’s delayed decision-making) aren’t that huge a divergence.

That does not, however, make it fulfilling cinema.

Still. The choices are easy to understand.

  • In the book, Faramir doesn’t even have to think about his response to Frodo (although he does spend an awfully long time toying with him and Sam, in attempt to squeeze information out of them). In the movie, Faramir puts off any decision until he has time to find the answer on his own.
  • In the book, a group of previously-unestablished Dunedain rangers appears in the aftermath of Helm’s Deep. The explanation is that Elrond sent them, because of a message from Galadriel. Galadriel knew to send them because Aragorn had wished to see them, and she had read Aragorn’s mind from a distance. (?!) At this revelation, Gimli is amazed with Galadriel’s powers, and wishes that he and Legolas had asked for some of their own kin instead. Legolas seems sad and agrees that would be nice — but he doubts the Elves would have come even if he had thought to wish it. In the movie, Elrond merely asks Galadriel to send a company of Elves (who were, unlike the rangers, previously established). And they arrive in time to help at Helm’s Deep, rather than five minutes later. Wish fulfilled.
  • The Warg/Aragorn sequence was a mistake, yes — and yet not without basis. Warg riders are referenced at least twice during that very sequence of the book, as they were an apparent menace to other parts of Rohan at that moment. While the Aragorn/cliff element is of debatable cinematic value and integrity, it’s no stretch to bring the Wargs a couple of leagues closer and have them meet the party for such a scuffle.

And. Well, so on. All of that is fine for what it is. In many places, the adaptation clarifies and enhances the overt plot events of the book with almost as much cleverness and skill as displayed in Fellowship. It’s just the movie that doesn’t work, for reasons cited below and elsewhere.

The third one does work, though. And — this is interesting — in tone, it actually feels kind of like the second movie never occurred. Aside from the few characters introduced there, it might as well not have — further enhancing its Twilight Zone quality. It’s like the movie was on pause for three and a half hours, and now it’s all alive again.

Character threads introduced during Fellowship, then dropped in the next film, have been resumed here. (Pippin is an idiot!) Constant references are made to earlier events, particularly those in the first movie. (Watch for the moth!) We’ve got thematic focus again. Heck, King even reclaims that horror movie edge that the first movie had (and it’s gotten grizzlier). Also like the first, yet unlike the second movie, it feels polished and self-contained; you could easily watch King without seeing either of the other two, and feel like you’ve seen something complete and substantial.

And golly, there’s a lot of singing. Well-used, at that.

On a single viewing, it seems not quite as good as (the extended version of) Fellowship. A fine line, yes; yet it’s there. King feels forced in a few places (particularly toward the end), and Sean Astin both can’t act and is given some of the most important scenes. Not as personal. Not as much texture. Nearly, though. It’s in the same league. And it’s satisfying in a different way. It feels grand. Perhaps the extended version will raise it up an extra notch. It almost doesn’t need the enhancement, though. I wonder.

I think the extended version will have to use a few alternate takes. I kind of like how the movie manages to sidestep Saruman. It’s an elegant dance, except for the confusing detail of the location of the Palantir. Offhand, it looks like the movie will need a different edit altogether in order to shoehorn Christopher Lee (and/or Brad Douriff) into that scene. (It will be easier to give them their Alan Lee portraits in the ending sequence.)

Really, I don’t understand how people can stand up and leave during a credit sequence like this. What’s wrong with everyone? There was nobody left in the theater when the credits were over. The cleaning crews were getting impatient for me to leave. Pah, multiplexes.

Trivia note: Sam’s daughter is apparently played by Sean’s daughter.