Wicked Stupid Plotless: One Trilogy to Rule Them All

WordMaster

***There are major spoilers ahead. So, if you haven’t seen The Lord of the Rings yet, what the hell is taking you so long? Just watch it, already!***

Omgomgomg. There are two days left until The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is released for the world to see and judge. Throughout the past year, I’ve alternated between delirious excitement and curl-up-in-a-ball-and-cry apprehension. On one hand, The Lord of the Rings is (cliché alert!) the movie that made me fall in love with movies, and why would I not want to revisit Middle-Earth? Just watching the teaser trailer made my eyes misty with nostalgia. On the other hand, though, I’ve been more or less opposed to the idea of any kind of prequel/sequel/spin-off to The Lord of the Rings since Guillermero Del Toro was still attached to direct The Hobbit, and frankly, the full-length theatrical trailer hasn’t exactly allayed my fears with its corny humor and suspicious-looking make-up. Also, regardless of what the filmmakers say, there is absolutely no artistic reason to stretch a single 300-page children’s book into three movies.

If this movie fails, things could get ugly.

I keep trying to tell myself that it won’t be the end of the world if The Hobbit isn’t a masterpiece, that even if it turns out to be a disaster of Phantom Menace proportions, the franchise won’t be completely ruined – just partially ruined. Even so, the closer we get to the release date, the more I feel like the decision to make The Hobbit was an all-around terrible idea. Not only is it unnecessary, but it’s also reckless. Insane.

The question the film-makers should have asked themselves before embarking on this foolhardy quest is this: is it possible to top – or even match – The Lord of the Rings?

The answer is a resounding “no.” Unless Peter Jackson is secretly a wizard who can conjure up spells of unspeakable power, The Hobbit was doomed from the beginning. Though admittedly, it wouldn’t at all surprise me to learn that Peter Jackson can indeed use magic because none of the Lord of the Rings cast members seem to have aged a day since the original trilogy ended.

Dude, it’s been nine years; what the fuck?

As a trilogy, The Lord of the Rings is perfection – or at least as close to it as any movie can come. It’s the movie that every subsequent fantasy franchise has tried (and, in most cases, failed) to emulate, a landmark not just of genre filmmaking but of contemporary filmmaking in general. In an era when studios routinely spend north of $250 million on blockbuster hopefuls and even many live-action movies are ⅔ computer graphics, it’s easy to forget how ambitious Peter Jackson’s project was, both financially and creatively. Filmed simultaneously over a span of 15 months and endowed with a budget that crawled to $300 million, each of the three chapters in the series posed its own set of obstacles, not the least of which was the tremendous pressure to craft a cinematic version of Tolkien’s sprawling fictional world that not only stayed faithful to the beloved source material (which some had deemed “unfilmable”), but also gave viewers who couldn’t tell their elves apart from their hobbits a reason to care. Add that to the fact that when financing Fellowship, studio New Line Cinema teetered on the verge of ruin, and it would be an understatement to say that people had high expectations for this franchise.

Even today, almost exactly nine years since The Return of the King was released, it’s amazing to think about how The Lord of the Rings managed to succeed and how improbable that was. How many of the hundreds of sequels and book-to-screen adaptations over the past decade lived up to expectations? Odds are, you can count the answer on two hands. Despite this and the seemingly insurmountable expectations, not a single one of the LOTR installments disappointed. They all did precisely what they were supposed to do: Fellowship introduced the world to Middle-Earth and its myriad inhabitants; Two Towers proved that Fellowship wasn’t a fluke; and Return wrapped up the series in a thrilling and emotionally satisfying way. What’s more, The Lord of the Rings is one of the few fantasy/sci-fi films to both earn major box office success and substantial critical praise. The trilogy grossed over a billion dollars worldwide and also nabbed a jaw-dropping 30 Academy Award nominations, including 17 wins.

Suck it, haters!

               I’ve watched The Lord of the Rings dozens of times, but I still find myself consistently in awe of the filmmakers’ achievement. Which I suppose is the sign of a truly unforgettable movie: you can memorize all the scenes and the order in which they’re arranged, and yet with every viewing, you’ll stumble upon something else that will take your breath away, whether it’s the special effects or the epic scope or Howard Shore’s alternately grand and haunting score.

               Last Saturday, I went to AMC’s heavily promoted Lord of the Rings marathon. Yes, I voluntarily – nay, eagerly – spent thirteen hours sitting in a dark movie theater watching three movies that had come out almost a decade ago, and yes, it was worth all the backaches and leg cramps and neck cricks. One of my biggest regrets in life is that I hadn’t seen any of the LOTR films when they first came out in theaters, so I jumped at the chance to see them on the big screen. I still wish I’d been able to relish the hype and excitement that undoubtedly accompanied their original releases, that I’d been able to watch the series unfold for the first time in a room full of equally fanatical and unsuspecting strangers, but until someone invents time travel and a temporary memory-wiping device, this is as close as I’ll ever come.

               Anyway, there are a few things that stood out to me this time around.

First, of course, are the visuals. Apart from maybe a handful of moments, the CGI looks just as spectacular as it did a decade ago; it’s no wonder that, even after Avatar, Rise of the Planet of the Apes and countless other CG-stuffed extravaganzas, Andy Serkis’s Gollum is still heralded as the holy grail of motion-capture technology and acting. I don’t think I fully appreciated the sheer awesomeness of the Nazgul and their fell beast mounts until I saw them on a wall-sized screen with ultramodern surround-sound, each thunderous beat of their wings sending vibrations through the theater seats and chills down my spine. The special effects are so seamlessly integrated into the film that more often than not, it’s impossible to differentiate between what’s computer-generated and what’s real.

Props also go to the costume, set and prop design, all of which are absurdly intricate, rife with minute details that no normal human being should notice. I have minimal (if any) artistic ability, but my admiration for the crew members who worked tirelessly to make sure every sword and cloak looked absolutely authentic is boundless. Thanks to them, Middle-Earth feels utterly vivid and life-like; I have to actively remind myself that literally diving at the screen won’t transport me to Lothlorien. And if the New Zealand landscapes, from the cragged, snow-capped Misty Mountains to the windswept plains of Rohan, looked beautiful on the TV screen, then they’re downright jaw-dropping in theaters.

All the cinematography porn.

As stunning as the visuals are, though, what really makes The Lord of the Rings special – and something that’s been sadly overlooked in the years since the movie’s release – is the characters. On an individual level, they may not be the most complex or fascinating characters in the history of cinema, but as an ensemble, they’re surprisingly compelling and nuanced. That Jackson and fellow screenwriters Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens were able to infuse the central characters with enough depth to make them seem like full-fledged human beings (or, in some cases, elves, hobbits, etc.) rather than flat, black-and-white archetypes is all the more impressive considering the immense size of the cast. After watching all three films back-to-back, I have a renewed respect for the subtlety with which the various relationships and character arcs develop. Obviously, the heart of the story is the friendship between the hobbits, and I’ll never not feel my heart breaking when Frodo tells Sam to “go home” or when Frodo and Sam reminisce about the Shire as Mount Doom erupts around them, but there’s also the tender romance between Aragorn and Arwen, Legolas and Gimli’s always-amusing camaraderie, the parent-child relationships (Bilbo and Frodo, Theoden and Eowyn, Denethor and Faramir) and numerous other character dynamics that lend intimacy to the otherwise plot-driven story. Anyone who thinks The Lord of the Rings lacks emotional weight never watched Boromir’s death or the Grey Havens scene. By the time the words “Directed by Peter Jackson” show up at the end of The Return of the King, it really feels as though you’ve returned from a long, arduous journey. Even though good eventually triumphs over evil and the characters live more or less happily ever after, there’s a sense of genuine, unavoidable loss that makes the adventure, the struggle, meaningful.

And that’s why no matter how hard they try, none of these imitators have been able to replicate the success of The Lord of the Rings – not Harry Potter or The Chronicles of Narnia or (gag) Eragon or even Game of Thrones, which is fantastic in its own right but still not quite on the same level. Because at the time of LOTR’s release, CGI could still be revolutionary and eye-opening. Because its source material is a landmark of fantasy literature that continues to captivate millions of readers. Because Peter Jackson brought Tolkien’s vision to life with such imaginative, single-minded verve. Because the actors are uniformly pitch-perfect, each blending effortlessly into his or her character (Andy Serkis and Sean Astin were robbed!). Because the movies strike just the right balance between epic and personal, gracefully melding together action, romance, comedy, suspense and emotion. Because The Lord of the Rings was the first legitimate classic of the 21^st century (during the AMC marathon, lines like “Let’s hunt some orc” and “I am no man” were greeted with enthusiastic rounds of applause). Because it delves into timeless, universal themes of love, greed, courage and death and makes them painfully immediate. Because the finale is the epitome of bittersweet. Because Shelob is the best fucking giant spider you will ever see in a movie.