A while back, I was glancing at the shelves of remaindered books in a local bookstore when I noticed a volume in the "Virgin Film" series. It was titled "The Lord of the Rings: The Films, The Books, The Radio Series," by Jim Smith and J Clive Matthews. The first name caught my attention. I'd been pointed to another book in the "Virgin Film" series with Jim Smith's name on the cover, on the movies of George Lucas, and had greatly appreciated and enjoyed its positive nature even as I wondered about an odd point here and there. (For example, the book claims there was a scene planned for Star Wars but not filmed in which Luke's proton torpedo launcher jams during the Death Star trench run, whereupon he lands, gets out, and prepares to tip in the torpedo by hand, only to have Darth Vader also land and get into a lightsabre duel with him...) There's no actual confirmation in either book that the same Jim Smith wrote both of them, but I was still interested enough to buy the well-marked down "The Lord of the Rings" book.
It's possible, though, that I misread the order of the subtitle at first. I was just a little surprised that, after a brief biographical prologue of JRR Tolkien touching on differing interpretations of his work, the book focused on what might be summed up as "Tolkien in adaptation." The centrepiece of this, of course, is Peter Jackson's film trilogy... and the book seems to argue the thesis that every single one of the changes between the original book and those movies was for the good of the story. Aragorn's being "reluctant and doubtful of his destiny" makes him "a more complex, interesting, likeable and sympathetic figure," Arwen's expanded role is "all entirely in sympathy with what Tolkien had originally written about her," Treebeard's changes manage to load some of the nuances of Tom Bombadil and "the Scouring of the Shire" on to him, Faramir's deciding to march Frodo and Sam back to Gondor adds depth to his character and reminds the audience of the corrupting power of the Ring (what his finally letting them go means isn't discussed), and Denethor's (and Theoden's only somewhat less extreme example, the book is careful to point out) incompetence in a crisis serves as a critique of "absolutist monarchy." (Actually, I do find that last point interesting... although it does manage to leave me ambiguous about just how the praise heaped on the movies was phrased. I didn't notice much in the way of "Tolkien reinterpreted for our time.")
With all that said, though... do I cling to looking askance at the changes between book and movie because they provide an antidote to the extreme praise... and, of course, to my sneaking suspicion, built up from a few examples stumbled on without warning, that The Lord of the Rings movies are presented as one of the most obvious things to crush and bury Star Wars for all time? (They seem to hold the "large-scale war between Good and Evil" role. The Matrix started as "the Hero's Journey, only cool," whereas I have the feeling that "Firefly" is supposed to appeal to those who wanted all Han Solo, all the time.) Of course, there are decided dangers to reverse hostility. I once found a page online made up by someone really, really cheesed at just about every aspect of the movies of The Two Towers and The Return of the King, and started reading it with a sort of "I'll see where this is going" mood... and then, while complaining about the inadequate scale of Minas Tirith, the author threw in a comment about how the new Star Wars movies had better production design, even if that was their only redeeming feature. All of a sudden, I was left much less interested in the page. It's quite possible, too, that more people were confused and even disturbed by Jim Smith's positivity towards the films of George Lucas than they were by his positivity towards the films of Peter Jackson. In any case, the "Virgin Film" book doesn't try to score any easy points. It openly compares the battle for Helm's Deep from The Two Towers with the Battle of Geonosis from Attack of the Clones, and the only possibly negative comment about Geonosis it makes that it's "difficult for the eyes to keep track of." In a sidebar about WETA, the book also talks about collaboration between it and ILM.
I did decide to rewatch the "Extended Editions" recently (the book does suggest that the theatrical cut of The Return of the King leaves quite a few characters in limbo), and beyond a possibly growing awareness of how certain moments are played up for absolutely everything they can give, I did find myself once again swept up in the savage pageantry of their battle scenes... but that also left me wondering. The "Virgin Film" book is insistent that Frodo's journey has to be the "core" of any successful interpretation of The Lord of the Rings, but, beyond suggesting that Elijah Wood's youth plays up the innocence of Frodo just as his connection with the countryside of the Shire was supposed to in the original book, there's not much other discussion of how his character reacts in the movies.
fernwithy once complained that Frodo came across less as a "reluctant hero" than as someone being dragged around by the real heroes of the movies, and for some reason I kept thinking of the contemptuous "weenie Luke" stereotype. (Nevertheless, I do think Sam remains an everyman hero in the movies.) I also find myself a little ambiguous with how Gimli and Legolas are treated. While the "Virgin Film" book suggests they're to be seen as "buddy cops" and declares that they're more developed in the movies, I'm honestly convinced that they became friends in the original book. In the movies, Gimli seems very much comedy relief (and how the movies got away with that makes me think of how "comedy relief" was proclaimed to be Lucas's cardinal sin with The Phantom Menace) and Legolas is a handsome hero, one of many elves where Gimli is the only dwarf we see alive and something of Aragorn's right-hand man. Maybe, though, that does have something to do with the camera trickery and varying shots that make the hobbits appear shorter, something that rewatching the movies always points out to me.
It's possible, though, that I misread the order of the subtitle at first. I was just a little surprised that, after a brief biographical prologue of JRR Tolkien touching on differing interpretations of his work, the book focused on what might be summed up as "Tolkien in adaptation." The centrepiece of this, of course, is Peter Jackson's film trilogy... and the book seems to argue the thesis that every single one of the changes between the original book and those movies was for the good of the story. Aragorn's being "reluctant and doubtful of his destiny" makes him "a more complex, interesting, likeable and sympathetic figure," Arwen's expanded role is "all entirely in sympathy with what Tolkien had originally written about her," Treebeard's changes manage to load some of the nuances of Tom Bombadil and "the Scouring of the Shire" on to him, Faramir's deciding to march Frodo and Sam back to Gondor adds depth to his character and reminds the audience of the corrupting power of the Ring (what his finally letting them go means isn't discussed), and Denethor's (and Theoden's only somewhat less extreme example, the book is careful to point out) incompetence in a crisis serves as a critique of "absolutist monarchy." (Actually, I do find that last point interesting... although it does manage to leave me ambiguous about just how the praise heaped on the movies was phrased. I didn't notice much in the way of "Tolkien reinterpreted for our time.")
With all that said, though... do I cling to looking askance at the changes between book and movie because they provide an antidote to the extreme praise... and, of course, to my sneaking suspicion, built up from a few examples stumbled on without warning, that The Lord of the Rings movies are presented as one of the most obvious things to crush and bury Star Wars for all time? (They seem to hold the "large-scale war between Good and Evil" role. The Matrix started as "the Hero's Journey, only cool," whereas I have the feeling that "Firefly" is supposed to appeal to those who wanted all Han Solo, all the time.) Of course, there are decided dangers to reverse hostility. I once found a page online made up by someone really, really cheesed at just about every aspect of the movies of The Two Towers and The Return of the King, and started reading it with a sort of "I'll see where this is going" mood... and then, while complaining about the inadequate scale of Minas Tirith, the author threw in a comment about how the new Star Wars movies had better production design, even if that was their only redeeming feature. All of a sudden, I was left much less interested in the page. It's quite possible, too, that more people were confused and even disturbed by Jim Smith's positivity towards the films of George Lucas than they were by his positivity towards the films of Peter Jackson. In any case, the "Virgin Film" book doesn't try to score any easy points. It openly compares the battle for Helm's Deep from The Two Towers with the Battle of Geonosis from Attack of the Clones, and the only possibly negative comment about Geonosis it makes that it's "difficult for the eyes to keep track of." In a sidebar about WETA, the book also talks about collaboration between it and ILM.
I did decide to rewatch the "Extended Editions" recently (the book does suggest that the theatrical cut of The Return of the King leaves quite a few characters in limbo), and beyond a possibly growing awareness of how certain moments are played up for absolutely everything they can give, I did find myself once again swept up in the savage pageantry of their battle scenes... but that also left me wondering. The "Virgin Film" book is insistent that Frodo's journey has to be the "core" of any successful interpretation of The Lord of the Rings, but, beyond suggesting that Elijah Wood's youth plays up the innocence of Frodo just as his connection with the countryside of the Shire was supposed to in the original book, there's not much other discussion of how his character reacts in the movies.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-13 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-14 12:48 am (UTC)One odd thing I did appreciate all over again about The Lord of the Rings movies was their fine judgment of the "picturesquely dirty." I thought this watching The Two Towers on the big screen around Christmas 2002, right after I'd rewatched Attack of the Clones on DVD, and for a moment or two I did wonder... and then it passed around the time I was gaping at the screen in a kind of "They changed what?" mood in the Faramir scenes. In any case, when I see both movies on DVD I see no need for AotC to apologise effects-wise, but maybe my first mood ties back to a web site I once happened upon in pre-1999 days complaining how the "myth of Star Wars" collapsed (you guessed it) between TESB and RotJ. Among the standard-issue attacks on the Ewoks was, I believe, a lamentation that in RotJ, everything was clean and all the machinery worked.