My captain, my king
Jan. 2nd, 2003 12:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwynI finally figured out what’s been niggling at the back of my brain about The Two Towers, and why the movie didn’t engage me quite the same way that Fellowship did. I loved Towers, plan to see it more than the two times I’ve seen it so far, but something’s kept me from feeling the same passion that I felt for Fellowship, where I rushed back to the theatre at least four times over my holiday break to see it. Partly it’s that there were so many more good movies I wanted to see this year than last; but the other thing? Sean Bean is not in Two Towers.
Shallow, I guess. But he’s one of my favorite actors, and seeing him with two other favorite actors (Viggo Mortensen and Ian McKellan) was just a dream come true, not to mention that he looked gorgeous in that dirty hair and beard and I always kind of liked the underlying slightly slashy vibe between him and Aragorn. He turned what was for me a really detestable character, an annoying character, into one I loved for his failings, his torment, his sacrifice for redemption, all of it. He really was representative of the most human of things — temptation, will to power, honesty, strength, courage. In the book, he just annoyed me with his stolid lumpishness, the stick up his ass, and always going around blowing that damn horn. In the movie, he was transformed both by the generosity of the scriptwriters and by Sean Bean’s incredible performance — not to mention the performances of the other actors around him, particularly Elijah Wood and Viggo.
I know Faramir is an incredibly popular character, more so then Boromir, in the books, but I have to admit, it’s really Sean’s performance that turned me into a far bigger Boromir fan than I ever thought possible, and Faramir just doesn’t hold the same interest. Watching the extended DVD version with the cast commentary this past weekend, I finally realized that that was what I found lacking about TTT — my boy wasn’t in it! And I missed him. I do feel shallow and kinda pathetic about it, but there it is. Watching a beloved actor turn a less than interesting character into a beloved character leaves an impact on me (I’m very into acting and the process that goes into it), and there wasn’t anything in Towers that felt comparable to me.
Everything else in Towers is great, though — I can’t fault it for anything except missing Sean Bean (and also? That death scene may be the best death scene ever, so what can come after it?). I really do like most of the changes they made fort his installment. For me, Faramir’s interest in the ring and his capture of the hobbits always felt too casual, not... important enough, I think. By bumping up the temptation he feels over finding out about the ring, it makes the danger of man’s possession of the ring so much more palpable, and it makes what happened to Boromir of even greater consequence. It also ennobles his sacrifice. A co-worker who went the first time with me was livid over the trip to Osgiliath, but I actually liked it; I felt it made the threat of the war far more dangerous, affecting, and scary. At times, when something like a battle on the scale of Helm’s Deep isn’t happening, the threat and the danger can seem very far away, very unthreatening; what was happening at Osgiliath was something the audience could see and feel, and we’re more connected to the suffering. I realize book fans hate this kind of departure, but movies can’t be literal interpretations of books, and this, for me, worked to bring into the foreground stuff that has been pushed too far into the background as exposition.
Part of the reason I’m not a fan of the books is that I felt there was a great story, but the telling of it was often plodding and dull. I know that’s heresy to many, but the style never engaged me enough to become a fan, and the dialog has always caused me pain to read. What I felt Peter Jackson and co. did was to take those outstanding, incredible elements of the stories, pick out parts that felt cinematic, or reshape the more cinematic elements that were buried under exposition, and bring them to life in a way that a person like myself, with only passing interest in the story, can be thrilled by. I’ve always had a soft spot for Gollum, for instance, because he seems to represent (like Boromir, in some ways) the truest tragedy of this ring’s power when it is in the hands of the ordinary person, so they wouldn’t have to work hard for me to be interested in that story. And yet, they went far above and beyond to create an incredibly powerful character there by focusing on many of the most cinematic qualities of the character.
But they were also able to take elements that either didn’t exist, or existed in a passive structure, and zap them to life. Faramir’s temptation, his interactions with Frodo, are incredibly powerful because what was latent and understated becomes overt and dangerous, becomes much more movie-like, and even a non-book audience can understand what’s happening. I don’t know that there’s any way to make book and non-book fans happy. If too much backstory knowledge is relied upon, you’ll lose the people like my sister, who can barely keep any of the characters straight and who called me up before the movie to demand I explain everything to her ahead of time, since the last movie left her feeling confused that she was missing something. If not enough attention is paid to the book, though, you alienate a huge audience with deeply felt beliefs.
I’ve noticed that some of my friends who are huge fans of the books actually love the movies almost as much, if not more than, the books because they are very, very film-oriented (working in the industry or film scholars, what have you). They seem to be able to mesh their knowledge of what makes a work cinematic, with their respect for the fiction, as well. And I think that’s a hard thing to do. As a non-fan of the books, but one who’s read them a couple times now, I’ve found that after seeing the movies, my experience of the books is of the movies — which makes no sense, I realize. What I mean is, I had little invested in the books beyond my love of Aragorn (who, because I read them first as a pre-adolescent girl, left me with an impossible picture of how heroic and wonderful a man could be, and they’ve all been disappointing since — Capt. Wentworth and Aragorn have a lot to answer for, if you ask me), I forget a lot of the details of the story, and my experience after each movie becomes my entire experience of The Lord of the Rings. And oddly, I don’t mind so much because I feel that Jackson and his merry band have done a remarkable job of translating the most cinematic elements of prose into something alive visually and aurally. And fortunately, my book-loony friends have felt that way too; my co-worker’s dismay is the only sour note I’ve really heard, beyond some fen’s LJs.
There was so much to love here — watching Viggo, who I’ve had to often sit through awful things for (GI Jane, A Perfect Murder) or scrounge hard to get little gems (A Walk on the Moon), become a full-fledged Movie Star right before my eyes. The man is impossibly hot. He could not be any hotter. Or seeing the incredible development of Legolas into this warrior prince, and seeing Orlando Bloom come into his own as an actor; not to mention the delightful relationship with Gimli. The lovely touches of humanness such as Aragorn kicking the helmet and screaming, or Eowyn’s giggling over Gimli. The incredible effects, from the small, like Theodin’s transformation, to the large, like Helm’s Deep. Watching Merry and Pippin grow into strong people, Merry especially taking on leaderly qualities. Shadowfax. Gandalf the White. And Sam and Frodo — the love and support unlike anything else on film.
I love all these things about it. But there was still something under it all I couldn’t pin down until I watched that Fellowship commentary track, and finally pegged it — I really did miss that man Sean. A weird, shallow thing to gripe about, and my only gripe, really, but there it is.
Shallow, I guess. But he’s one of my favorite actors, and seeing him with two other favorite actors (Viggo Mortensen and Ian McKellan) was just a dream come true, not to mention that he looked gorgeous in that dirty hair and beard and I always kind of liked the underlying slightly slashy vibe between him and Aragorn. He turned what was for me a really detestable character, an annoying character, into one I loved for his failings, his torment, his sacrifice for redemption, all of it. He really was representative of the most human of things — temptation, will to power, honesty, strength, courage. In the book, he just annoyed me with his stolid lumpishness, the stick up his ass, and always going around blowing that damn horn. In the movie, he was transformed both by the generosity of the scriptwriters and by Sean Bean’s incredible performance — not to mention the performances of the other actors around him, particularly Elijah Wood and Viggo.
I know Faramir is an incredibly popular character, more so then Boromir, in the books, but I have to admit, it’s really Sean’s performance that turned me into a far bigger Boromir fan than I ever thought possible, and Faramir just doesn’t hold the same interest. Watching the extended DVD version with the cast commentary this past weekend, I finally realized that that was what I found lacking about TTT — my boy wasn’t in it! And I missed him. I do feel shallow and kinda pathetic about it, but there it is. Watching a beloved actor turn a less than interesting character into a beloved character leaves an impact on me (I’m very into acting and the process that goes into it), and there wasn’t anything in Towers that felt comparable to me.
Everything else in Towers is great, though — I can’t fault it for anything except missing Sean Bean (and also? That death scene may be the best death scene ever, so what can come after it?). I really do like most of the changes they made fort his installment. For me, Faramir’s interest in the ring and his capture of the hobbits always felt too casual, not... important enough, I think. By bumping up the temptation he feels over finding out about the ring, it makes the danger of man’s possession of the ring so much more palpable, and it makes what happened to Boromir of even greater consequence. It also ennobles his sacrifice. A co-worker who went the first time with me was livid over the trip to Osgiliath, but I actually liked it; I felt it made the threat of the war far more dangerous, affecting, and scary. At times, when something like a battle on the scale of Helm’s Deep isn’t happening, the threat and the danger can seem very far away, very unthreatening; what was happening at Osgiliath was something the audience could see and feel, and we’re more connected to the suffering. I realize book fans hate this kind of departure, but movies can’t be literal interpretations of books, and this, for me, worked to bring into the foreground stuff that has been pushed too far into the background as exposition.
Part of the reason I’m not a fan of the books is that I felt there was a great story, but the telling of it was often plodding and dull. I know that’s heresy to many, but the style never engaged me enough to become a fan, and the dialog has always caused me pain to read. What I felt Peter Jackson and co. did was to take those outstanding, incredible elements of the stories, pick out parts that felt cinematic, or reshape the more cinematic elements that were buried under exposition, and bring them to life in a way that a person like myself, with only passing interest in the story, can be thrilled by. I’ve always had a soft spot for Gollum, for instance, because he seems to represent (like Boromir, in some ways) the truest tragedy of this ring’s power when it is in the hands of the ordinary person, so they wouldn’t have to work hard for me to be interested in that story. And yet, they went far above and beyond to create an incredibly powerful character there by focusing on many of the most cinematic qualities of the character.
But they were also able to take elements that either didn’t exist, or existed in a passive structure, and zap them to life. Faramir’s temptation, his interactions with Frodo, are incredibly powerful because what was latent and understated becomes overt and dangerous, becomes much more movie-like, and even a non-book audience can understand what’s happening. I don’t know that there’s any way to make book and non-book fans happy. If too much backstory knowledge is relied upon, you’ll lose the people like my sister, who can barely keep any of the characters straight and who called me up before the movie to demand I explain everything to her ahead of time, since the last movie left her feeling confused that she was missing something. If not enough attention is paid to the book, though, you alienate a huge audience with deeply felt beliefs.
I’ve noticed that some of my friends who are huge fans of the books actually love the movies almost as much, if not more than, the books because they are very, very film-oriented (working in the industry or film scholars, what have you). They seem to be able to mesh their knowledge of what makes a work cinematic, with their respect for the fiction, as well. And I think that’s a hard thing to do. As a non-fan of the books, but one who’s read them a couple times now, I’ve found that after seeing the movies, my experience of the books is of the movies — which makes no sense, I realize. What I mean is, I had little invested in the books beyond my love of Aragorn (who, because I read them first as a pre-adolescent girl, left me with an impossible picture of how heroic and wonderful a man could be, and they’ve all been disappointing since — Capt. Wentworth and Aragorn have a lot to answer for, if you ask me), I forget a lot of the details of the story, and my experience after each movie becomes my entire experience of The Lord of the Rings. And oddly, I don’t mind so much because I feel that Jackson and his merry band have done a remarkable job of translating the most cinematic elements of prose into something alive visually and aurally. And fortunately, my book-loony friends have felt that way too; my co-worker’s dismay is the only sour note I’ve really heard, beyond some fen’s LJs.
There was so much to love here — watching Viggo, who I’ve had to often sit through awful things for (GI Jane, A Perfect Murder) or scrounge hard to get little gems (A Walk on the Moon), become a full-fledged Movie Star right before my eyes. The man is impossibly hot. He could not be any hotter. Or seeing the incredible development of Legolas into this warrior prince, and seeing Orlando Bloom come into his own as an actor; not to mention the delightful relationship with Gimli. The lovely touches of humanness such as Aragorn kicking the helmet and screaming, or Eowyn’s giggling over Gimli. The incredible effects, from the small, like Theodin’s transformation, to the large, like Helm’s Deep. Watching Merry and Pippin grow into strong people, Merry especially taking on leaderly qualities. Shadowfax. Gandalf the White. And Sam and Frodo — the love and support unlike anything else on film.
I love all these things about it. But there was still something under it all I couldn’t pin down until I watched that Fellowship commentary track, and finally pegged it — I really did miss that man Sean. A weird, shallow thing to gripe about, and my only gripe, really, but there it is.
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no subject
Date: 2003-01-02 03:55 pm (UTC)That scene was one of the most powerful in the movie, topping Gandalf's death scene even (which I loved spectacularly for the reactions of the other characters). The first time I saw it I was too overhwlemed by the film as a whole to react beyond yet another "Whoa." But the second time around the film affected me much more emotionally, and I found myself crying a bit in the theater when Boromir died.
I feel that Jackson and his merry band have done a remarkable job of translating the most cinematic elements of prose into something alive visually and orally.
I feel exactly the same about it. LotR, both movies together (as really its just 2/3 of a single movie we're seeing) are to me the best book-to-film adaptation I've ever seen. Count me as one of the book-loony people who adore the movies. I know some stuff was changed, but I can't help my love for these films, becqause they're everything I love about the books. My only complaint (and I really had none with the first movie) is that they made a bit of a goof out of Gimli, who was a serious, capable warrior. But I can see how they could do that, because they need comic relief and they portray Legolas in too dramatic a light most of the time to make fun of him, and Aragorn's the Hero so he's off-limits.
I read the books over a long time, finishing the RotK in 10th grade, 3 years ago. I haven't picked it up since then. So I went into each film with this expectation, but with enough of the details blurry in my mind that I wouldn't be tempted to nitpick. And now I'm glad, because for most things (like the Ents, my favorite!) I sat down in the theater not knowing *what* it was I wnated, but knowing I'd be able to tell instantly if what they did was wrong. But it wasn't, it was wonderful. And the things I did remember as different, the changes (like Faramir) didn't bother me as much because it'd been three years since I read it.
For my love of the movies, I like to quote the review at http://www.aintitcool.com/display.cgi?id=14060:
"I love these films. Not in that idle sort of, “Oh, I just loved it,” kind of way, but in that deep marrow of the bones type of love. Aching love, needy love, that roll around with a smile on your face, can’t wait to see it, be near it, just be close to it kind of obsessive love."
:)
I have the same kind of love for Buffy/Spike stuff.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-03 03:03 pm (UTC)I think, judging from what I've heard, you're not alone in that, but almost everyone I know who initially felt that way got easily talked into the whole "it relieves what's essentially a very grim, relentless movie otherwise" position. And I must say I'm quite good at talking people into that position. ;-) At first I was afraid, when my friends who went to the midnight showing told me about it, but I found I really did enjoy it, especially the "you could have picked a better position" part. I *hate* the dwarf-tossing jokes in both movies because they're so anachronistic, but... I dunno, I think I've just resigned myself to this picture of Gimli, and I do like the other humorous aspects of him -- which in lesser hands than John Rhys-Davies, could have been so bad.
"I love these films. Not in that idle sort of, “Oh, I just loved it,” kind of way, but in that deep marrow of the bones type of love. Aching love, needy love, that roll around with a smile on your face, can’t wait to see it, be near it, just be close to it kind of obsessive love."
Oh yeah! That's definitely it -- it really is just this incredible, intense devotion I feel for these things. That's why I was marginally suprised, I think, to realize that I didn't feel quite so... insane over this one. I don't know, anyway, if it's possible to achieve that same level of crazedness as I had for the first one - some of that's got to dissipate.
Re:
Date: 2003-01-03 04:37 pm (UTC)What am I goign to do then, huh? Buffy will be over. LotR will be over.
WHAT WILL I OBSESS ABOUT?!?!!