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Frodo (Elijah Wood) is a complete and utter mess, making his way slowly to Mount Doom with Hobbit best-pal Sam (Sean Astin) and bi-polar freakazoid Gollum (Andy Serkis) in tow. The film begins with a sinister backstory that sets up the allure of the forbidden fruit that now hangs from Frodos neck: Serkis, as Smeagol, kills for his precious and slowly wigs out over time. Many years later, hes every bit as calculating, cooking up a deadly encounter with you-know-her but not before plotting an elaborate mix-up between Frodo and Sam using breadcrumbs (Give us this daily bread, so to speak). Gollums last-ditch attempt to reclaim his old drug is the Christ-like Frodos only chance to destroy his oft-mentioned burden. But this is just one of many jittery interplays in the film.
While Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Legolas (Orlando Bloom), and Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) wake the dead, Gandalf (Ian McKellen) prepares to fight the Witch King over at jaw-dropping Minis Tirith, where the white wizard must navigate Denethor and Faramirs fiery father-son disconnect. Behold the lighting of pyres on mountainsides, an awe-inspiring evocation of primal communication. This is how tightly the inhabitants of Middle Earth are connected. In Return of the King, the magic is in the details, and Jackson works overtime to get everyone in on the action: Pippin sings a song (ostensibly for Denethors pleasure, its also a dreamy musical backdrop for one of many battles in the film), and its a nosy Merrys vision of a lonely tree in a garden that brings the fellowship to Minis Tirith.
Much of the films problems are, of course, relative (Uruk-hai leaders shouldnt be allowed to talk!). Fans of Christopher Lees hot air will probably miss Saruman the most. (Jackson wisely understood the characters potential to distract, so its assumed that the dark wizard fell along with his kingdom at the end of Two Towers.) Jackson puts the cock-tease into the films sweltering, geometric cross-cutting, but the films 200 minutes still feel overstuffed. The dead army doesnt bring the film to a screeching halt in the same way Treebeard did Two Towers, but theres now a hurried, going-through-the-motions quality to these and many other scenes. Treebeard and Galadriels cameos are small, but the characters could have been easily excised without being missed. (Cate Blanchetts catwalk strut from the first film was endearing, but her breathy delivery is cloying when her dress isnt flowing sensually behind her.)
Because Jackson spends considerable time fulfilling quotas, crucial melodramas are undervalued. Jackson is ill-prepared to handle the Aragorn-Arwen-Eowyn love triangle. Jackson knows this, which might explain why he avoids the shot of Eowyns face when Aragorn returns and snags the eternally lovelorn Arwen (Liv Tyler, more asthmatic than Blanchett). The nondescript Eowyns curious empowerment ritual is seemingly informed by a broken heart first, political-correctness second. Jackson does a poor job evoking the womans genuinely breathtaking success in battle as a personal mission. Womanhood seems almost beside the point, when it really should be the true impetus. The Eowyn-Merry tagteam outside Minis Tirith is essentially Jacksons promise to Tolkeins female and outré fans. Of course, it all successfully points to the inclusiveness of the authors world. The Lord of the Rings trilogy has appealed to girls, boys, straights, and queers alike, and theres plenty of worship in Jacksons film for everyone whos good--regardless of sex, size or how long Sam stares into Frodos eyes.
Jacksons majestic longshots and extreme close-ups will make you swoon. Wind and fire are their own characters, and theres a primordial wistfulness to many of the films power shots (namely the sight of a defeated Frodo and Sam at Mount Doom while fireballs whisk by their heads). Because of their elegiac stillness, its as if were watching daguerreotypes from an audacious, ridiculously dramatic neverland. The films best (often simplest) fantastical flights of fancy (an impromptu beam of light from Gandalfs staff, the flight of savior eagles) are those that smooth out the roughest battle scars and evoke losses being rewarded from cosmic beyonds. We permit the CGI madness because theres an unmistakable transcendental quality to the films images, and Jackson respects and authenticates Tolkeins core principles of sacrifice and spiritual ascendance.
As a non-purist wrt the films, I was disappointed to hear that the "Scouring of the Shire" was not to be included in the film. The greatness of the LoTR lies not just in the majesty Middle Earth, and the affirmation of eternal verities, but very much in showing the evolution of the world (the ending of the Third Age) and the costs imposed. This is most satisfyingly done in the return to the shire by the transformed hobbits. Perhaps it is asking too much of a movie audience to attend to--but I'm begging you, if you like the films, and haven't read the books, please do so.