We are, All of Us, Ring Bearers

#86, February 06, 2002

Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" was, for me, not a book but an experience. I read it for the first time during my last year of college, my first year with my future wife. I remember a misty night on the Oregon coast, reading the first part of the trilogy, "The Fellowship of the Ring," out loud by candlelight in our zipped-together sleeping bags, stopping every few minutes to listen for the hooves of the Black Riders. Later that summer, I read in the Sierras, watching the alpenglow fade from the razor ridges of the Emyn Muil as my friends Legolas Henry and Gimli Hughes pitched our tent. Our trail went on and on . . .

Twenty-five years later, I started all over, this time in the lower level of my young son's bunk bed. We attached a map of Middle Earth to the bottom of the upper bunk - thus we could follow our friends and heroes as they traveled from Bywater to Bree, from Rivendell to Rauros. Every day, for half a year, we looked forward to our nightly adventure.

So I came to Peter Jackson's film version of this great story with considerable history, and high hopes. And I was not disappointed. (Warning to those of you who want story secrets to remain secret: if you have not read all three volumes of the Trilogy, put this column aside until you have. And read at least "Fellowship" before you view; it makes for a better reading and viewing experience.)

The film worked for me at every level. It was a visual masterpiece: the sets, costumes, make up, effects, and cinematography were as rich as Tolkien's verbal portrait. Jackson's direction gave it sense of motion that drew you into the story, put you in these places. The casting was impeccable, especially Ian McKellen as the multifaceted Gandalf and Elijah Wood as the beleaguered Frodo.

I had a tough time at first not seeing Hugo Weaving's Elrond as an elven version of Matrix Agent Smith, but this casting choice gave Elrond the kind of scary strength you need to be a warrior of his stature and not just some wussy wise man.

The acting? After several viewings, it more than held up. McKellen and Wood are Oscar material, but everyone contributed to the authenticity and depth of the tale. Viggo Mortensen's Strider-becomes-Aragorn and Sean Bean's tragic Boromir offer a thought-provoking study of men discovering their strengths and weaknesses, bound in a web of fate.

Jackson was wise to leave so much of Tolkien's story intact, but he wasn't afraid to add his creative touch. I found most fascinating his treatment of the demise of Gandalf in the Mines of Moria. (Warning: stop here if you haven't read "The Two Towers!")

In the book, a battle-weary Gandalf is pulled into the chasm by a thong of the Balrog's fiery whip. But in the film, a still-strong Gandalf clearly lets go. And it makes sense. Gandalf realizes, after getting whupped by Saruman, that he needs to spend some time "in the gym" with the Balrog. It's a big risk, but if he emerges, he will have the power he needs to ensure the success of the Fellowship. Also, his "dropping out" at this point forces Strider into the leadership role he must take if . . . well, you know the story.

My favorite moment is when Frodo decides to embark for Mordor. He stands on the riverbank, ring in hand. His self-pitying instincts plead for retreat. But he draws on some inner strength, what Gandalf recognized as that force for good that is moving in the world. And with this strength, he closes his hand around the ring, and seals his fate as the ring bearer.

Tolkien's story is more than escapist fantasy. Frodo's journey is the mythical hero's journey, one we all face. We'd all like to have been born to a time when evil was not ascendant in the world. But, like Frodo, we can only choose how to make best use of the time we have. We are all ring bearers.