PuristLove
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2000
- Messages
- 1,694
One Ring to Rule Them All
I went and saw the Lord of the Rings late Wednesday Night. I've been anticipating it since I saw a trailer on the internet back in January of 2000. As a fanatic Lord of the Rings fan, it had been a long two years. I tried to go into the movie open-minded; without expectations, but that was impossible. Part of me was set up to be terribly disappointed. Most of us have encountered enough bad movies-made-from-books to know that they almost always botch it up.
Tolkien's work has been such a powerful part of the shaping of my character and life that I knew it would be impossible for them to capture the true spirit of the movie on film.
But there was another part of me that wanted; needed, for this to be wonderful. So I was giddy with excitement as I took my seat.
One Ring to Find Them
The previews finally wrapped up and I sat anxious and waiting. "Astound me," my heart cried out. "Don't get your hopes up," my brain mumbled pessimistically.
The narrator cut in, giving the background; the delicious, complex, and absorbing history of the War of the Ring. Tolkien had spent nearly ten years crafting this and the voice-over had summed it all up in about five minutes. I scowled in the dark, afraid that I had wasted my money.
Then, as the story started, and the first scene took form, I could make out Gandalf riding in the back of a horse drawn cart. I'd seen the image a thousand times, tall hat, long grey beard, curling pipe; it was familiar. But somehow it took me away. Heart and brain shut up, and the only person left was the little boy inside screaming, "Hooray, Gandalf is here!"
One Ring to Bring Them All
The people around me were of all shapes and classes; young, old, rich, poor, black, and white. I'd never realized how many people this story had touched. Packed to the limits, this little theater held a lot of hopes and dreams. Every single one of us aching to be carried back to a time when innocence allowed us to enjoy fantasy without feeling any guilt.
We needed it to be alright to indulge ourselves in magic and heroes and pretty Elvish princesses. Hundreds of us had come begging to be filled with wonder, and if we weren't, we knew we might lose the magic forever. A lot was riding on this movie.
And In the Darkness Bind Them
My brain kept trying to fight its way free. Every so often it would scream, "Look, those fools, they've screwed up that part, it didn't go like that." At this point, the little boy would promptly sit on him, effectively shutting him up.
I can't say the people around me sat in silence and awe, I'd be lying. They sat in awe and laughed, cried, jumped and squealed in all the appropriate places. As a whole, we were transformed by this movie.
It was only after it was over, in the car on the way home, that I got to wondering why it was that I was so drawn to Tolkien's work. Why do I make it habit to re-read it every single year? How is it that a movie could hold me in my seat for three hours, even though I had to pee the entire last forty-five minutes?
And right away I knew the answer. It was the beauty, the magic, the Faerie. Eowyn and Elrond, Rivendell and Lothlorien, Galadriel and Celeborn, the woodsy, homely shire and the beautiful wind-swept hills of Gondor. The fair horses of Rohan and the lusty maids of that same place. It was all that was marvelous and enchanting. The utter fantastical, sheer fairy-taleness of it all. We go to see the Elves.
There are others who will tell you that it's Tolkien's mythical archetypes that captivate us so. The incredible way that Frodo's trials and passages serve as metaphors for all of us. And they do, who hasn't crawled through the Dark dusty wastelands of Mordor, or barely escaped the Tombs of Moria? Who doesn't battle inner-Gollums and deal with treachorous Sarumons?
But this isn't the power that Tolkien holds over me. For the old bard weaves a much more ancient and powerful spell than that. Tolkien unlocks the doors of childhood, and allows us to grow very small and gullible once again, recapturing our innocence and delight.
"Elves sir, I would dearly love to see them. Couldn't you take me to see the Elves, sir, when you go?" we ask, as Sam did. And Tolkien obliges each time, both on the written page and on the silver screen.
Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them.
One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
I went and saw the Lord of the Rings late Wednesday Night. I've been anticipating it since I saw a trailer on the internet back in January of 2000. As a fanatic Lord of the Rings fan, it had been a long two years. I tried to go into the movie open-minded; without expectations, but that was impossible. Part of me was set up to be terribly disappointed. Most of us have encountered enough bad movies-made-from-books to know that they almost always botch it up.
Tolkien's work has been such a powerful part of the shaping of my character and life that I knew it would be impossible for them to capture the true spirit of the movie on film.
But there was another part of me that wanted; needed, for this to be wonderful. So I was giddy with excitement as I took my seat.
One Ring to Find Them
The previews finally wrapped up and I sat anxious and waiting. "Astound me," my heart cried out. "Don't get your hopes up," my brain mumbled pessimistically.
The narrator cut in, giving the background; the delicious, complex, and absorbing history of the War of the Ring. Tolkien had spent nearly ten years crafting this and the voice-over had summed it all up in about five minutes. I scowled in the dark, afraid that I had wasted my money.
Then, as the story started, and the first scene took form, I could make out Gandalf riding in the back of a horse drawn cart. I'd seen the image a thousand times, tall hat, long grey beard, curling pipe; it was familiar. But somehow it took me away. Heart and brain shut up, and the only person left was the little boy inside screaming, "Hooray, Gandalf is here!"
One Ring to Bring Them All
The people around me were of all shapes and classes; young, old, rich, poor, black, and white. I'd never realized how many people this story had touched. Packed to the limits, this little theater held a lot of hopes and dreams. Every single one of us aching to be carried back to a time when innocence allowed us to enjoy fantasy without feeling any guilt.
We needed it to be alright to indulge ourselves in magic and heroes and pretty Elvish princesses. Hundreds of us had come begging to be filled with wonder, and if we weren't, we knew we might lose the magic forever. A lot was riding on this movie.
And In the Darkness Bind Them
My brain kept trying to fight its way free. Every so often it would scream, "Look, those fools, they've screwed up that part, it didn't go like that." At this point, the little boy would promptly sit on him, effectively shutting him up.
I can't say the people around me sat in silence and awe, I'd be lying. They sat in awe and laughed, cried, jumped and squealed in all the appropriate places. As a whole, we were transformed by this movie.
It was only after it was over, in the car on the way home, that I got to wondering why it was that I was so drawn to Tolkien's work. Why do I make it habit to re-read it every single year? How is it that a movie could hold me in my seat for three hours, even though I had to pee the entire last forty-five minutes?
And right away I knew the answer. It was the beauty, the magic, the Faerie. Eowyn and Elrond, Rivendell and Lothlorien, Galadriel and Celeborn, the woodsy, homely shire and the beautiful wind-swept hills of Gondor. The fair horses of Rohan and the lusty maids of that same place. It was all that was marvelous and enchanting. The utter fantastical, sheer fairy-taleness of it all. We go to see the Elves.
There are others who will tell you that it's Tolkien's mythical archetypes that captivate us so. The incredible way that Frodo's trials and passages serve as metaphors for all of us. And they do, who hasn't crawled through the Dark dusty wastelands of Mordor, or barely escaped the Tombs of Moria? Who doesn't battle inner-Gollums and deal with treachorous Sarumons?
But this isn't the power that Tolkien holds over me. For the old bard weaves a much more ancient and powerful spell than that. Tolkien unlocks the doors of childhood, and allows us to grow very small and gullible once again, recapturing our innocence and delight.
"Elves sir, I would dearly love to see them. Couldn't you take me to see the Elves, sir, when you go?" we ask, as Sam did. And Tolkien obliges each time, both on the written page and on the silver screen.
Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them.
One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
