Ten years ago today...

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings

 New Line Cinema and Wingnut Films, December 19th, 2001 (United States Wide)

Starring: Ian McKellen, Elijah Wood, Viggo Mortensen

Four stars

Ten years ago today, New Line Cinema unleashed what would ultimately, I think, go on to be the definitive accomplishment in cinema for the decade. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring was the new millennium’s second big event picture, the first having launched just a month before (though it would take much longer to complete that particular series). That film was Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the first of an eight film series that would go on to become the highest grossing franchise in movie history. I saw both films on incredibly memorable days, and both movie going experiences are ones that I still recall happily and nostalgically a decade later, even when hundreds of other movies have come and gone. It was, I think, the beginning of my love for film.

I saw the first Harry Potter film on my 11^th birthday, which is, coincidentally, also the birthday that Harry celebrates early on in the story. At that point, only four of the Potter books had been released, but I loved all of them, and they had instilled in me a passion for reading that I think few people my age ever experienced (and one that I haven’t quite been able to regain, to this day). The movie was decent, if unspectacular. It stayed true the books and the cast, especially the adult characters, played by some the finest British actors of this era, was quite excellent, but I always felt like there was something missing. The Potter books have always had this addictive element to me, something that keeps me reading and makes me want to finish them in one sitting. That’s something only a few books have ever gotten out of me, but the movie was missing that spark. Everything about it was technically fine, but there was something missing, and my 11 year old mind didn’t know what it was; not yet, at least.

I saw The Lord of the Rings just over a month later, on Christmas Eve 2001. At this point in time, my step dad was reading me the first book in the trilogy every evening, but we hadn’t gotten very far yet, and I had little idea of the story’s epic scope. I also had no idea that we were walking into a three hour film, but I didn’t mind one bit that it ended up being that long, because from the first frame, I was more enthralled with this film than I think I’ve ever been by any other, before or since. There were moments from that first viewing that are still pretty much burned into my mind: Gandalf’s reading of the text on the ring, the nightmarish Moria sequence, the final battle and Boromir’s farewell, to name a few. These were moments that brought these characters to life for me, drew me into this story that I was mostly unfamiliar with, and made me fall in love with it. These were moments that scared me, moved me or excited me; moments that exemplified everything that made movies like these classics, from Star Wars to E.T. to Back to the Future and now to this. Walking out of the theater on that cold but beautiful winter’s night, I was pretty sure it was the greatest film I’d ever seen; it’s still in the running.

The reason The Lord of the Rings triumphs where so many other literary adaptations partly or completely fail (I think the Potter films fall into the former category) all comes down to the director. Peter Jackson makes a case for himself as one of the greatest directors of all time on the strength of these films alone, even if he never nears that level of greatness again. The Lord of the Rings doesn’t rise above most adaptations simply on the strength of its source material or on its technical marvels (both of which are considerable), or even on the abilities of its vast and supremely talented ensemble cast. No, the greatness inherent in these films is there because, above all, this was a passion project for Peter Jackson, and his love for these books and these characters can be felt in every frame of every film, in every casting decision and performance and in every spectacular effect. It’s possible there are other directors who could have undertaken this project and done well with it, but I find it hard to imagine that there is another director who could have brought the same emotional sensitivity to these stories that Jackson finds so easily in every moment. In lesser hands, The Lord of the Rings could have become first and foremost a special effects piece: indeed, part of the reason for my lukewarm reaction to films like James Cameron’s Avatar (which was partially inspired by these films) was based on the fact that I never felt emotionally connected to the characters or the stories they had to tell. Yes, the visual effects in that film are among the greatest of all time, but it’s a film I have forgotten and a film I have never felt inclined to revisit because it seemed like a pale imitation of what Jackson had achieved more than half a decade earlier with this series. I’ve seen Fellowship probably 20 times, and every single time, I still get the same visceral, emotional reactions to certain scenes as I always have. And yes, the special effects were and still are excellent, but in making this film, Jackson did what the likes of Michael Bay and so many other Hollywood blockbuster directors would never even consider: he emphasized the human side of these tales rather than trying to hide them behind special effects.

 

There aren’t enough things that I can praise about these films, but two aspectss that have always struck me are the cast and the adapted screenplay. There’s not a weak link in the former, in any of these three films. Jackson and his crew don’t go for big star power here, but the first time I saw the film, I still found myself picking out plenty of familiar faces, from Sean Bean (one of my favorite actors in one of my favorite performances, as Boromir) to Ian McKellen, who is likely the “best-in-show” in the series, and whose work for this film should have earned him an Oscar. Elsewhere, less familiar actors caught my eye and promised greatness, whether they lived up to that promise (Viggo Mortensen, who has since done some very compelling and interesting work) or not (Orlando Bloom, who has pretty much only played guys who complain a lot). As for the screenplays, the work done in that category is strong across the three films, but never, I think, has an adaptation been executed as perfectly as this first film. The cuts and changes that Jackson and co make are the right ones, bringing extra drama to the early parts of the story and creating a more compelling film. The few characters that are excised aren’t really missed (reading back through the books, I remember how happy I am that Tom Bombadil was cut), while the characters that are more fleshed out, like Liv Tyler’s Arwen (to give Aragorn a more present love story) or especially Christopher Lee’s Saruman, who provides a face for the growing darkness that permeates most of the series’ first part, are drawn quite naturally, always remaining true to the spirit of the book. 

 

And that brings me back to my 11 year old self, the one who couldn’t quite put his finger on what he didn’t like about that first Harry Potter film. It turns out there was something missing, and that was the amount of love that Jackson injected into his project that none of the four Potter directors could ever find. Maybe that kind of passion can only arise when the stories stand the test of time, and maybe a later incarnation of the Potter series (because everyone knows that it’s coming eventually) will find a director that can do for those books what Jackson did for Rings. There are actually a good handful of moments of real greatness in the Harry Potter films, and they all have one thing in common: the director or screenwriter has a moment of inspiration, and takes the Potter legacy into their own hands. And maybe just for a scene or two, those movies stop feeling like adaptations, like ways to make money off of an existing fanbase, and start feeling like films. There’s never a moment of any less than that in Jackson’s Lord of the Rings, and that’s why these films will live forever among my favorites of all time. There are a lot of people who would call Fellowship the best in the series. It’s impossibly difficult for me to pick a favorite, since every time I watch any one of the films, I’m inclined to call it just that, but Fellowship is certainly the truest book-to-film transition and, as most films at the beginning of any series do, it feels the most complete on its own. But whether or not I will ever be able to call one of these films my favorite, whether I would choose the quiet, building darkness of Fellowship, the epic bombast of the The Two Towers or the triumphant, chill inducing finale of The Return of the King, one thing is for certain: these films made me into the movie lover that I am today, and there is no greater gift a film can give than that.