The occasional movie in
which the hero actually toys with the notion of not accepting his
quest—“The Last Temptation of
Christ” comes to mind, or even Han Solo’s departure near
the end of “Star Wars”—are more interesting. We are not sucked into
“LOTR’s” characters because there is not enough there to do any
sucking. Without that emotional bond the action sequences are never
quite as thrilling as they could be. Of course, you may not feel
this way. You may find them the most human of all screen characters
you’ve ever seen. Whatever. Keep in mind that of the 30
Academy Award nominations bestowed upon the trilogy, only one was for
acting.
There have been many fine films in which archetypes are
given no choice but to march along their preordained generic routes, in
which all the events that surround them feel inevitable, but is there any
purpose to this in “Lord of the
Rings?” According to Greg Wright of Hollywood Jesus, there
is: to create the impression that Tolkien’s story is the oldest of
all, the one upon which all successive stories are based. But even
then, shouldn’t we feel more like we’re watching choices being made?
And if you create the story from which all others spring, doesn’t that
mean you must obey every cliché possible? So why do this? Why
make a movie comprised solely of the most common denominators of fairy
tales if no examination, criticism, or meditation of them is made?
How can we even know if Tolkien is trying to create this “oldest of all
stories” or is he simply unable to defy fairy tale conventions? At
least we know “Kill
Bill”
is intended to make something of a joke of the action movie by stripping
away everything but the bare essentials.
Speaking of Han Solo, his
function in the “Star Wars” films is to stand-in for the audience, not
unlike Dr. McCoy in the old “Star Trek.” He is in this far-off,
strange universe, but not of the universe. He comforts us with his
familiar attitudes and he asks questions about the fictional world.
Perhaps most importantly, he even makes fun of it a little for us, so that
its ego is regularly deflated a bit. “Lord of the Rings” lacks any
character whose purpose could be so complex, creating a kind of “members
only” atmosphere in which we must accept the world on only its own terms,
with no detachment, irony, or examination. The absence of the
Solo-McCoy creates the aura of some viewers being among the
“initiated”—who have read all the books, online references, and other
sources, who will be catching all the throwaway lines and details—and some
being “uninitiated.”
My friend
Nathan puts it this
way:
“I think the trilogy is targeting the
14-year-old male demographic. The films seem to do a fairly good job of
that. It’s a complicated world with lots of weird names to remember
and lots of secret passages to uncover. When I was a kid, I remember
liking that ‘The Hobbit’ cartoon. I liked the idea of magic rings
that turned you invisible and special swords named Sting. I even
bought my own ‘magic ring’ in a border town in Mexico…but that’s another
story.”
There’s also the matter that a really
terrific adventure will have more twists and turns than “The Lord of the
Rings,” which basically sets its characters in one direction and leaves
them there for the next six-and-a-half hours. There are not really a
lot of surprises and revelations, only a repetitive series of
battles-to-end-all-battles, mixed with bloated dialogue and amazing
sights. O’Ehley writes
“the
battle scenes, as impressive as they may be, become repetitious and after
similar scenes in ‘The Two Towers,’ I began to suspect that maybe the
whole series could have skipped an entire movie altogether and still have
gotten to the point.” And as for the “romantic” subplots—never
mind. Nathan has this to say:
“They’re just cartoons, both
figuratively because the characters are exaggerated caricatures of reality
and literally because the second and third installments seemed mostly like
exercises in digitally pasting non-performances of un-inspired actors from
sterile soundstages directly onto the irrelevant, poorly compiled ‘mess en
scene’ of the kinds of paddle-less video games that are all the rage in
the multiplexes nowadays.”
In the end, the trilogy is a sturdy
embodiment of old archetype of small innocents lost in a big world.
It is lavishly made, but not very soulful, and it’s worth noting that the
trilogy’s final installment came out the same year as the more
challenging, far superior “Master &
Commander,” a human adventure that beats it on every level
except the visual one.