I return to
Ebert’s comment,
“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.”
The phrase “adolescents of all ages”
sounds more derogatory than “children of all ages,” but maybe it
shouldn’t. Calling “Star Wars” child-like implies, accurately, its
aura of whimsy. Calling “Lord of the
Rings”
adolescent implies, also accurately, those days when we still acted as
children but expected to be treated as adults, or as the trilogy’s
defenders will say, behaved as adults but were regarded as children.
“Lord of the Rings” moves with its head down, seriously, as if it is
filled with portentous secrets and deep thoughts. And what do we get
when we finally ask it what it’s thinking? “Power corrupts.”
No kidding. I hadn’t thought of that. Yet perhaps the best
possible reading of Jackson’s “The Lord of the Rings” as having any
subtext is as an allegory for male adolescence itself. Whether or
not Tolkien intended this or not is absolutely immaterial; we’re talking
about Jackson’s films, not Tolkien’s novels.
Let’s just make a
quick list of how the movie encapsulates the ages of about 8 thru
15:
1) Juvenile idea of war
(see “Lord of the Rings” as
War) as a video game: the Beautiful Elf Guy and
the Fat Dwarf are competing to see how many kills they can make, just like
the score in a video game.
2) Girls as honorary
boys: the Princess of the Blonde People joins all the
boys in battle.
3) Girls (and sex) as
scary:
Nathan says
“by the end of ‘Return of the
King,’ we get two hobbits cowering together in fear of that big flaming
vagina above the mountain, having just run in horror out of a dark,
sticky, musty tunnel.” Dr. Clayton says
“‘Fellowship of the Ring’
exploits…the revulsion from adult sexuality…as if sexual predators were
lurking around every corner. Still early on, when Frodo and his sidekicks
from the Shire go into an inn where they are supposed to meet Gandalf,
they find the place filled with leering, bearded older males, like a
lecherous motorcycle gang out in search of hot boy ass. A later
episode in which Boromir (Sean Bean) and Frodo are alone together in the
woods and Boromir tries to take the ring from the boy has equally obvious
connotations of sexual assault when the older male approaches the younger
seductively and then attacks him after Frodo proves wary of his
intentions. But what attracts him more, taking the ring or the boy's
cherry?”
4) Girls as
untouchable: Dave Clayton says “neither adult sexuality nor
anything else adult penetrates into the chastely cloistered world of the
movie. Although the film allows a bit of discrete courtship between
Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) and Arwen (Liv Tyler), all the feminine figures
in ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ appear garbed in white as if they were
luminous embodiments of purity.”
5) Intimidation at the
sight of the older boy: again, Dr. Clayton says “in a sequence that takes place
towards the end [of ‘Fellowship’], when the boys are boating down a
river…they encounter gigantic statues of the ancient kings, carven out of
stone, before passing into a lake. Directly ahead lies a phallic pinnacle,
and behind them a suspiciously narrow strait they have just navigated…But
those statues deserve a closer look. The effigies are depicted with their
hands raised, apparently to ward off intruders. As the boys drift by,
silently staring in astonishment, the film cuts to an incredibly ugly shot
of the boat going past the huge sandaled foot of one of the kings…The
keynote is the discrepancy in size…what is the awe the boys feel towards
these images except the admiration younger males feel for the superior
physical endowments of older ones?”
6) Gloom and doom sense
of seriousness: the entire trilogy—from direction to music to
acting to cinematography—carries itself like a teenager with his head
down.
7) No financial or domestic
concerns. O’Ehley says
“thirteen is…the best age at
which to have read Tolkien’s books. Writer Brian Aldiss mentions in
‘Trillion Year Spree’ (his excellent history of science fiction) that the
success of fantasy novels is due to the absence of the one thing that
their adolescent readers are always short of: money. You never see Lord
Sauron struggling to make the mortgage payments on any of his huge
castles. Or even the dashing Aragorn slapping down a few pence for his
drink of ale at the local tavern. Or how about Frodo and Sam never having
to pay any toll road fees? Money just never figures in any of these tales,
Aldiss says.”
8) Enormous teenage appeal:
the
trilogy revels in elements of video games, long-haired rock bands,
perfectly-coiffed boy bands (“this ‘fellowship’ looks like a pubescent boy
band in medieval drag” says Clayton), Renaissance fairs, loud music, and
the serial, repetitive format of comic books, Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia
Brown, and giant science-fiction sagas that come in 20
volumes.
Clayton’s conclusion is that “‘Fellowship of the Ring’
wants to pass off a teenager's limited vision of the world as
myth.”
He finds this notion of backwards progress as dangerous, or at least a
kind of opiate that makes audiences feel they are thinking when in truth
they are only being placated. When the teenager’s world ends, the
movie ends, as if there’s nothing all that interesting left to do, and
while we may live on, we’ll only spend that time in a kind of living death
in which the best we can do is recapture days gone by.
Try seeing
things from the 40-year-old’s perspective and you’ll see how insulting it
is. Isn’t the multiplex already cluttered with enough films that glorify
All Things Teenage? Is “LOTR” an examination of all this, or merely
the most purely 13-Year-Old-Boy-Movie ever made? In his Great Movies
review of “Star
Wars,”
Roger Ebert says “In one way or another all the big studios have
been trying to make another ‘Star Wars’ ever since…it located Hollywood's
center of gravity at the intellectual and emotional level of a bright
teenager.”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.