Worlds

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Occurs to me that the thing The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly has definitely in common with Fellowship of the Ring (more than the other two Rings movies), and indeed with things like Lang’s Metropolis and The Third Man and Nosferatu — basically every movie I find magical and involving — is that the movie’s world is in a sense the main character. There are other characers in the movie, with their own agendas that we follow. The main conflict or relationship, though, is between those characters and the world they’re in — which in most cases is their own world; they just don’t see all of the aspects of it that we do, because they live there. The characters exist to bounce off the scenery, to ignore it, to walk us through it, to give us contrast with it..

This also describes The Legend of Zelda. And Silent Hill. And Phantasy Star II. And Dragon Warrior. And just about every videogame I find magical and involving. Hell, Riven is nothing but environment.

In a certain meta way, it also decribes more postmodern fare like Charlie Kaufman and Treasure. In MGS3, Kojima does both at the same time! Resident Evil 4 tries to as well, though it’s a little more clunky in execution.

A thread here.

On Licensed Fare

  • Reading time:7 mins read

Occurs to me, the best way to structure a Lord of the Rings videogame is to make it from Frodo’s persective, and Frodo’s perspective alone. Everything else is spiralling around somewhere in the background, out of his control, adding to the atmosphere. Assuming this game were based on the movies rather than the books, it would begin, with no particular prologue, outside the Green Dragon. The player, as Frodo, would amble, slightly drunk, back to Bag End; Sam would be around to help show the way. If the player were to go too far off-track, Sam could say, in a comforting voice, “‘ere, Mister Frodo, you’ve had a bit too much. Best follow me.” And Frodo would stumble around and take a step back toward Sam, with a bit of an acquiescent shrug. Sam would leave the player at the gate to Bag End, maybe pushing a bit, allowing the player to trot up through the door and walk around a little before Gandalf jumps out of nowhere, scaring the player half to death, asking about the Ring.

Within the context of the game, the player of course has no idea what’s happening. Frodo mumbles to Gandalf something about how he thinks he left it in the chest over there; the camera moves to frame it, the player is left free to wander Bag End; Gandalf will start to grow irritated if the player doesn’t go straight to the chest and open it, though. Once open, Frodo automatically fumbles around and draws out the envelope; Gandalf snatches it away, the whole sequence plays. Eventually the player is left free to scramble around for a few moments (there’s an invisible timer of sorts — long enough to be sane, short enough that the player can’t take however long he wants; Gandalf starts to get impatient if the player takes too long) and take whatever in Bag End seems of use. If the player seems confused, Gandalf will bark out suggestions. “Take some food! And try that walking stick over there!” When the player is done, he goes to Gandalf. (If the player just dallies forever, Gandalf interrupts and says they’ve delayed long enough. He might shove a generic pile of stuff into Frodo’s hands.) There’s another short bit of discussion, before Sam gets yanked through the window. Then the game cuts to Gandalf and Frodo walking along the road, toward the edge of Hobbiton, Sam scampering behind, Gandalf berating him. Gandalf offers his advice, and the player is left alone.

From then on, it’s forward. The player isn’t allowed back into Hobbiton. (“No… no, I can’t go back now. I’m afraid it’s no longer safe.”) Otherwise, it’s mostly free reign all through the Shire. Not much will happen aside from exploration. The hobbits become visibly exhausted and will begin to stagger if they don’t rest and eat from time to time. The general idea is to keep off the road, although it’s a good idea to keep the road in sight, lest the player become lost. Stray too far and you might have some strange run-ins; with wood elves or dwarves or even orcs. Sort of a Zelda or Dragon Quest idea of borders: although you can go anywhere, it’s on your own head if you act like a fool and stray far. Likewise, the farther from the path, the darker and more menacing the woods get; the greater the ambient noise. The game will send psychological signals, telling the player he shouldn’t be there (especially given the lack of any real means of self-defense except, perhaps, the occasional stone). Maybe if the player strays really, really far, Sam will be there to freak out and plead with Frodo to get back to the road.

The player probably won’t get actually killed or injured. He might be visibly (if subtly) stalked by wolves for a while. Just to give the player the hint. Perhaps if the player does get attacked, and injured a little, a ranger or a wood elf will pop out to slay the wolf and advise the player back to safety. Of course, if the player runs into someone on the road, that person will probably recognize Frodo and start making a big deal about it: “Why, FRODO BAGGINS, fancy seein’ you ‘ere! Why, wait until I tell the blokes at the pub who I ran across out in the middle of nowhere, why won’t they have a scream!” Frodo will automatically respond “Y…yes, nice to see you again. We’d really best be moving on.” “Oy, now that’s friendly! Well, have it as you will… (mutter mutter)” And the passerby would continue walking down the path. The idea is to give the player the idea that maybe he should avoid being recognized.

It will take a long while to walk from one place to the next; that’s a big part of the point. It’s all about the journey, about the sense of place along the way. Sense of distance. Sense of foreboding, as well. The idea that maybe the player is being watched. That the farther you get from home, the more treacherous the world feels, to a point. (This is before the wonder of travelling starts to really kick in, and when turning back still seems like a viable option, even if you know you can’t.)

Likewise, the game will somewhat funnel the player along the “right” path just by virtue of level design, carrots, and the above psychology. Farmer Maggot’s fields, say, will be the most obvious route to go, just because going any other route will be so unpleasant and slow, and Sam will whine so much, that it will in effect be the only viable option. If the player happens to miss Merry and Pippin one place, they will continue to wander around such that the player will meet them eventually, somehow, in some incidental manner. The level design will also ensure this. How the meeting transpires depends on the circumstances. If the player is being chased by black riders already, the dynamics will be different from if they bump into each other in a corn field or along the road.

As for the black riders: it should be immediately obvious to the player when they are coming — from visual, aural, and tactile cues. The idea is to make the player realize he really, really shouldn’t be where he is, and that he should get away and hide somewhere. It’ll be an ongoing menace for a while, keeping the player from standing around too long. If the player gets caught, maybe Merry and Pippin show up and pelt the rider with rocks, causing it to drop Frodo, and tell the player to follow them. Maybe the game is simply over right then and there. The rider rides off with Frodo, leaving Sam behind, weeping. And after a few moments, the screen fades to black, the player hears the sound of Frodo screaming, and the text “This is not the end…” appears.

The player should have the option to put on the ring at any time. Should be tempted. Perhaps when the Riders are near, the game interface does something to sugest to the player to use the item.

The game continues in this manner throughout the entire quest; things that are out of Frodo’s control are out of the player’s. The player is tempted and guided and manipulated just as Frodo is, all for the psychological effect. The idea is to make the player really feel like Frodo. To eventually confuse the hell out of him, and to make him want to take the easy way out of things.

I don’t see this game getting made. It wouldn’t be all that hard, of course. Not really. It’s certainly feasible. It’s just… not where we are, yet. Not how we think about videogames, yet. A shame, as I want to play it.

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.

Post-production

  • Reading time:2 mins read

You know, the DVD format has its uses.

I think much of the trouble in Jackson’s The Two Towers lies in the editing. There are any number of ways this film could have been assembled. He chose a distracting one. If you isolate the two major story threads, they each flow well (aside from that endless elfy flashback sequence). As the film is assembled, however, they keep interrupting each other.

Following the structure of the original book, it seems to work best to put the Aragorn/Gimli/Legolas/Merry/Pippin material first, then to switch to Frodo and Sam. The question is when to do this. It would be more than a little weird to wait until the end of the one plot, then to rewind and start the other.There is a built-in cutaway point, however, in the Aragorn plot. In a scene in the extended version, Aragorn sits outside of Fangorn while Gandalf discusses the plot. The scene ends with the two of them talking about Frodo and Sam. Then — in this version — we cut away to maybe the second or third Sam/Frodo sequence.

Why not just wait until then to start their major story? It’s a perfect cue. Aragorn tells Gandalf that Frodo has Sam with him. Gandalf is pleased. So let’s see what Frodo and Sam are up to.

The Gandalf sequence at the start is still a good device. It’s just, cut away to the first Merry and Pippin scene after Frodo realizes that it was only a dream and lies back down. Then I suppose it works to cut away again, when Frodo and Sam first meet Faramir. Finish the first plot, then do the last hunk of the Frodo/Sam plot. (There’s not much left, after that point.) And get rid of that big elfy flashback. And. The movie might actually flow, as a coherent unit.

Hmm… I bet there’s a program feature in here somewhere…

EDIT: This thought train is continued here.

A chance for Jackson, director of Hobbits, to prove his quality

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Here’s a clear example of the character illustration that has been re-implemented in the extended version of the movie.

In a flashback, Faramir remembers a meeting with his brother Boromir and his father Denethor. Denethor dismisses and insults Faramir a bit, then assigns Boromir the task to ride to Rivendell and claim the One Ring for Gondor. Boromir is crushed. Faramir offers to ride in Boromir’s place, as it is clear that Boromir would prefer to stay with his people. Denethor scoffs. “A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to prove his quality?” He mocks Faramir some more, then sends Boromir on his way.

Some time later, Faramir realizes that Frodo has the Ring. He confronts Frodo, and pulls the ring from under Frodo’s vest with the tip of his sword. He stares, transfixed. “A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to prove his quality…” Frodo freaks out and runs off into the corner, as Faramir stares on, perplexed.

Later, after Faramir puts the pieces together and decides to let Frodo go (at his own risk), Sam thanks Faramir and comments that he has “proved his quality”.

So. We’ve a character arc here. The entire episode was structured as a test, for Faramir. And, in the end, he passed it. He just needed to work a few things out first — like, for instance, what about him was being tested.

The first and the third mention are absent in the theatrical cut. We’re just left the middle bit, where Faramir prods Frodo with his sword. We’ve no context for why he does this, or why he decides to let Frodo go. We just have actions, without meaning.

This principle can be extended throughout most of the movie. The extended version still has some problems, and not all of them are of this nature. As I said before, I don’t think the movie can be fixed. Not entirely. Still, it’s a little better.

EDIT: I continue this thought train here.

Wait for the Special Revised Edition, perhaps?

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Sounds like even still, The Two Towers is kind of messed-up. It continues to lack its ending sequence. I wondered why Peter Jackson chose to save the last bit of wrapup with Saruman for the third movie, unless it was just to have Chrisopher Lee’s name in the credits (as with the weird Arwen scenes in the second film).

But. Here’s the sequence:

The conclusion at Isengard was chopped out of the theatrical release because the theatrical release was a rough hack kept together with bailing wire anyway, and that scene made the movie too long for New Line to like it. (You might notice how disconcertingly aprupt the movie’s end happens to be.) So, Peter Jackson figured he’d just splice this sequence into the beginning of RotK.

Since up until just this past week or so he still assumed he was going to do this, the proper ending isn’t in the extended version of TTT. It has now occurred to Peter Jackson that it’s kind of odd to have this leftover business at the outset of the third film, so as a result he’s excised it from the theatrical version of RotK — as lengthy as this cut might be.

And now also as a result, the ending to The Two Towers won’t be seen until the extended version of Return of the King — two full years after the film’s original release.

Yikes.

He really needs to go back through and edit these films a third and final time, when he’s no longer under pressure. I know he intends to. It’s just. Maybe that’ll be the proverbial charm for the middle film. Include everything that needs to be in there. Remove or rework the pointless bits. And just redo the cross-cutting from scratch.

From this distance, it sounds and looks like the third film will be more akin to the quality of the first. As well it should, given the comparably ample time he’s had this time around. (One wonders whether New Line will be able to drag him out for the months of Oscar schmoozing nonsense this year. One wonders if it’s necessary.)

EDIT!

I (kind of) like this review.

EDIT MORE OOG!

This one, meanwhile, fails on more than two levels.

EDIT AGAIN!

Although it fawns, this impresses me in its particular way. (I got used to the affectations by the end.)

Death and Revision

  • Reading time:3 mins read

Out of curiosity, I rented (for free!) the theatrical release of Fellowship of the Ring. Of course, the disc was scratched all to hell — so I was only able to take in about the first twenty minutes before my DVD player began to freak out.

I think I might need to clean the thing, soon; even some discs which should be fine are giving it problems.

At any rate — aside from the vapid extras (which I’m afraid I couldn’t tolerate in their entirety), my main target was a comparison of the original cut of the film to the one with which I am more familiar.

Conclusion, from what I see, and the memories it’s causing to resurface:

hot damn, was this thing improved.

The whole beginning portion seems to be edited such as to construe Gandalf as the main character of the movie. His interactions with Frodo are abbreviated, sped up, and depersonalized. Near-all of Bilbo’s characterization has been omitted, dragging him down to the level of a disposable plot device with whom Gandalf briefly interacts on his personal mission to the shire. Frodo only becomes a factor once Gandalf has been established, and even then he’s not illustrated as much.

The editing is more abrupt and disorienting. It feels hurried. Not just in comparison; I remember feeling this way in the theater.

Basically: the warmth is removed, as are character relationships. The movie isn’t set up as well. It progresses too quickly.

And then there’s the whole visual aspect. The theatrical version just isn’t edited with the care of the extended cut. There are a number of “new” or alternate shots (from my perspective, going back) which don’t sit as well in the frame, or are of questionable value. You can tell that Jackson spent an extra year on the longer edit, smoothing things over; revising and selecting exactly what was needed to tell the story as well as possible. Heck, even the colours are richer.

The result is a far more well-made film, from just about any direction.

No pun intended.

As such: given how distinctively non-plussed I was with the theatrical cut of The Two Towers, I’m now even more curious about the extended version. It’s not just that material was added to FotR; the entire thing was carefully honed. Almost every edit, shot, and overdub was reconsidered. And the result was that the entire focus of the movie was shifted in the right direction — mostly from what amounts to a handful of rather subtle revisions; partially due to the necessary added material.

You could call the theatrical cut the sloppy first draft of the film, slapped in a can to placate the studio while Jackson continued his work.

So. On that note, I’d like a similar change of focus in the second film. I’d like the editing to give me less of a headache. I’d like to see a more deliberate movie, which lurks beneath the surface of the mess that we saw rushed to the screen.

I think it’s there.

We’ll see.

“There are no easy answers”

  • Reading time:3 mins read

Adaptation is a movie which it is impossible to say anything intelligent about. You can take that as you will.

Even saying that, I’m probably missing the point.

Nevertheless, I am thoroughly defeated. This is what films can be at the level to which no one ever seems to bother to take them.

I think once this comes out on DVD, I’ll have an interesting tool. Whenever I want a good gauge of how someone’s mind works, I’ll show him or her Adaptation. See what the conclusion is.

I don’t think I’ve had to work that hard in the act of watching a movie, for a very long time (if ever). After a certain point, I had to watch it three or four times at once with separate parts of my brain while simultaneously rewinding and reframing every other element, character, facet of the film from the first words, with every new sentence which was uttered.

And even in doing that, and in realizing that in trying to even find a level to watch it on, or find… anything to speak about, I am shown for the fool that I am — I am! By simply throwing my hands up and saying that the movie intentionally defies concrete understanding and revels in that fact, I’m still narrowing it down to a point which is so inherently ingrained in the movie’s fiber that that’s not it either.

So I’ll simply nod. I, personally, can’t hold this one. I’ll just admire it.

Now, how long will it take before videogames reach this level of art? Hmm…

Art and life really are synonymous, aren’t they? Can I ever birth such an immortal being? What’s the point of being here, if not? We are given such a limited chance, and all most people seem to have the ambition to do is to selfishly create more literal life. Life which will wither and wane and be forgotten. A hundred years, and no one will have the chance to know it. It will have no more to say.

I feel I have a responsibility to do more than that, with all of the resources I’m wasting merely by existing in the first place. But can I do it? Will I ever know if I have?

All right. I guess I can say that about the movie, without imposing myself upon it. Without suggesting that what I say is the movie, or its point (if it has any one in particular). If I make sure to make this distinction, I suppose I should be okay.

Unrelatedly, The Two Towers didn’t annoy me anywhere near as much on the instance of my second subjection to it. And I can’t get that damned Gollum’s Song, from the ending credits, out of my head of this moment. The flashbacks are still murder, though.

I just flipped the light switch, in attempt to flush the toilet.

Bilbo’s Ring!

  • Reading time:5 mins read

Lately I keep waking up with music in my head. I can’t remember what else I’ve had going this week (just a dream yesterday that involved a rare transformer which turned into an intergalactic movie screen), but this time it was the Heatman theme.

As I idly bounced into consciousness, my thoughts ran to clothing. “I should wear a vest when I go to E3. And bring my umbrella. And find that fedora. And… buy a handkerchief.”

Okay. Aside from the bit where the ring falls onto Frodo’s finger and he slips into the wraith world? (I just realized that this scene reminds me a lot of when John Cusack first slips into John Malkovich’s head. Same kind of critical turning moment, where everything is suddenly, violently reframed — and in a sense the movie really begins.) The other scene which really sticks with me from FotR occurs just after Bilbo leaves, near the beginning.

Gandalf is sitting in the foreground, immersed in thought (and pipe smoke), scowling into the fire. Frodo bolts into Bag End in the background, screeches to a halt, and innocently picks up the ring along the way. He notices Gandalf and continues into the foreground. After being addressed a couple of times, Gandalf slowly, creakily turns to Frodo. His eyes drift downward. “…Bilbo’s Ring!” he chimes; quickly, calculatedly putting on as innocent and comforting (yet nevertheless distinctly odd) a smile as he can conjure.

There’s something about the effortless, logical grace of that scene which does a lot to me. “Bilbo! Bilbo! Oh… a… ring? Huh. Hey, Gandalf. Where’s Bilbo? Gandalf? … Hey. Gandalf.” “Oh. Um. Oops. You… have the ring? (Mustn’t show how terrified this makes me…) Hello!”

Part of it is in the framing. Part of it is in the acting. Part of it’s the script. Really, Elijah Wood and Ian McKellen both do so much acting beyond the comparatively corny dialogue they’re often given. They do far more acting with their faces (particularly Frodo’s eyes) than they do with their voices. Christopher Lee, whose dialogue is by far the hammiest, just seems to revel in it. He’s pretty much expressionless; the only interesting glance I can recall out of him is in response to Gandalf’s “Tell me… friend,” line in Isegard.

All of this is why FotR wins me over so much — powerful character and plot moments like these. TTT is relatively absent of them. Just action. And… Ents. And absolutely, thoroughly unneeded flashbacks.

The moment which I remember best from my single viewing of TTT so far? When… the… elf guide fellow from Lothlorien unexpectedly shows up at Helm’s Deep. His presence there. His expression. The way he reacts when Aragorn tries to hug him.

Other than that, it’s mostly just individual shots which I admired for their grace or general beauty — the long shot near the end, when Gandalf and Eomer’s men are charging down the hill; the shot by the graves in Rohan, with the flower in the foreground for about half a second; the shot where Frodo wigs out and pulls Sting on Sam.

I just didn’t have much of anything to lock onto in this movie. Again, maybe if I see it again now that I know what to expect… But I mostly just felt like I was… observing actions rather than intimately taking part in something increasingly important, along with interesting characters.

It’s the acting, and it’s the beats which sell the experience. There was too little and too few, here.

Water. Yes.

Edit: All of that? That’s partially why I said we need more Eomer. He was a really interesting character, but barely used. He needed another scene somewhere before his reappearance. So did Gandalf. And we needed more Frodo. And more for Merry and Pippin to actually do.

Aragorn and Legolas are frankly boring on their own. Some people complain about his use as comic relief, but Gimli provided some of the only actual personality in the film. And it was greatly needed. I can’t imagine the movie working as well (and it really didn’t work very well!) without Gimli being so… Dwarfy. Sam was kind of interesting, but abrasive. Frodo didn’t do much other than walk into walls in the annoyingly few scenes he was actually in; he did little really interesting or involving acting at all. Gollum was a selfish scene-stealer; I think he needed to be brought down a notch or two, to blend in better.

Really, the only bits of absorbing personality in the film come from Gimli, Eomer, and what little Gandalf we see. Considering that the movie pretty much uses them as decoration while it focuses almost entirely on the boring characters and on special effects — well, you can see how it might fall a little flat.

This is aside, again, from the editing. Gah. Not going to get into that mess again.

The benefits of post-post production

  • Reading time:2 mins read

Another thing: We need more Eomer.

This movie has a ton of good stuff in it; the real problem is mostly in the editing.

We need to get the hell rid of that flashback sequence. We don’t need Aragorn going off the cliff. We can cut back on some of the Ent stuff.

Then we can add in more Frodo development. Add in more of Gandalf, as he searches for Eomer’s men. Hell, Eomer was so well-defined and such an interesting character. Why was he ignored for the whole center portion of the movie? I wanted to see more of him, but all we got was the light brigade at the end.

And once we’ve got the substitutions all set, then reorganize. This movie feels like a rough cut, honestly. All of the material just seems thrown together, with no real attention to pacing. There’s very little of a sense of setup and payoff. There’s no natural flow. That stupid dream sequence helps to set up what happens to Aragorn after he falls off the cliff, but neither is needed in the slightest. They add absolutely nothing. I can’t see a single positive aspect to these changes. Not one. It’s just not good judgement, so far as I can see.

Again, with as rough as this movie seems to be — I hope that’s just what the case is. Peter Jackson didn’t have the time to think things through and to edit as carefully as he’d have liked. With another year to work on the DVD, he’d sure as hell better rethink how he wants this movie to flow. He’s got all of the right material. (Well, he’s got most of it; and I somehow expect he did film the other bits I’ve mentioned are needed.) He just needs to do something else with it.

Or I suppose he could just edit it down to the intro sequence. Nothing else is really needed.