Having recently been awed by the magnificent releases of the extended editions of the first two instalments (Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers) in the Tolkein trilogy, I felt terribly emotionally conflicted at the prospect of seeing for the first time the series finale, Return of the King. On the one hand, I was quivering with excitement; the wait to see what director Peter Jackson called the best film of the three would soon be over. On the other hand, I had to wonder: Was I setting myself up for a fall? How could Jackson top not only the greatness of the first two films, but also my sky-high expectations?
Well, fear not, my friends as Return of the King is a most worthy successor to its antecedents. While the film’s first hour at times threatens to fulfil my greatest fears by resorting to unnecessary narrative backtracking and repetitive reminders, presumably for the sake of those who either missed the first two films or weren’t paying particularly close attention, once the war fires are lit in Gondor, and Frodo abandons his trusted sidekick Sam, the film soars.
Jackson’s film captures the visual grandeur and thematic complexities of the novel well, while moving gracefully from moments of the intensely personal to epic scenes of staggering enormity. Jackson’s use of music (scored by Howard Shore) guides the film’s deliberate emotional development, as the introspective opening movement is virtually music-free, then as the final confrontations develop and personal demons emerge, the score builds slowly but incessantly to a throbbing, crashing crescendo as the world of man stands teetering on the brink of oblivion on the battlefields of Gondor and Mordor.
While Sauruman (Christopher Lee) has been hastily excised from the battle over Middle Earth, Lord Sauron continues to rule Mordor with a martial zeal, calling upon more fantastical creatures than The Land Before Time. Jackson juggles skilfully the intimacy of the darkening quest of Frodo, Sam and Gollum (Andy Serkis does more award-worthy work here) with the giant trolls, magnificent oliphants and Jackson’s Triumph of the Will imagery at the Battle of Pelennor. The operatic intensity of the film’s battle scenes and the archetypal nature of many of the characterizations does nothing to lessen the impact of the personal journeys of several key characters. Frodo’s odyssey from innocence to experience, from good to near-evil and back again, is mirrored by that of Aragorn (Mortensen exudes a steely regal resolve) as he graduates from adolescence to adulthood. We also learn from the hobbits Merry and Pippin, but particularly Sam (Sean Astin is perfectly cast for this vital role), the reward of sacrifice and friendship, while from Gandalf (Ian McKellen) we are taught that dying is only one more stop in a very long journey.
When I confessed to some emotional ambivalence entering the theatre, I neglected to mention that my strongest feeling was dread, borne out of the realization that I would have to say farewell to these hale and hearty fellows well-met once the final curtain fell. I will also confess that I was not among those who felt that the series of fadeouts that marked the film’s end were patience-trying, because we’re not just talking about the end of a single 200 minute heroic tale, but rather the conclusion of an 11-hour epic of undeniable greatness, whose characters we know as intimately as our dearest friends, and whose parting we must be allowed to properly acknowledge and yes, even mourn. So about those multiple endings? I’m thinking the film’s earned every single one of ‘em.
Captures the visual grandeur and thematic complexities of the novel well, while moving gracefully from moments of the intensely personal to epic scenes of staggering enormity.- Dan Jardine
