What about side by side with a friend?
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)
When I embarked on this latest rewatch, I was worried that
the three Lord of the Rings films would not stand on their own
merits – that they would lack distinct tones or structure. If you’ve read my
previous two essays, you know that fear was swept away deep into a hobbit hole. Fellowship
of the Ring was a slapstick horror, while Two Towers was
a staid historical war epic. So what is Return of the King? Well,
imagine you’re having some stew at Bag End – and Bilbo adds just the perfect
amount of each prior film to the pot: a bit of campy horror…a splash of
historical drama…followed by a dash of Peter Jackson’s next film: my
beloved King Kong.
The most surprising aspect of Return of the King isn’t
its multiple (and completely earned) endings – it’s the number of gnarly
beasties on screen. We’ve got subspecies of trolls, Nazgûl fell beasts, big
spiders, giant rhinos, and kaiju-sized elephants! Hell, even my enemy Gollum
looks better this time around. The artists and designers at Wētā Workshop were
so talented at creating monsters, that it’s no wonder that Jackson's next
project boiled down to “let’s just fill an island with these bastards.” I’m
sure I’ll write more about King Kong another day, but beyond
the structural and storytelling similarities, these zoologically-minded films
use their creatures to embrace the excitement of fantasy and the camaraderie of
facing the unimaginable.
Picking up in the aftermath of Two Towers, Return
of the King uses its 250-minute runtime to recount the final days of the
Third Age. Characters we love are reunited, separated by sudden oaths (Pippin
what are you doin’, man) or desperate strategy, only to be reunited at the end
of the world. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas (Viggo Mortensen, John Rhys-Davies,
and Orlando Bloom) seek a hail-mary weapon within the haunted mountains. Pippin
and Gandalf (Billy Boyd and Ian McKellen) head to Minas Tirith on the eve of
war, while Merry (Dominic Monaghan) becomes an esquire of Rohan. Finally, Frodo
and Sam (Elijah Wood and Sean Astin) make their final ascent toward Mount
Doom.
Talking with friends about the trilogy over the last few
months, it feels like Return of the King generally holds a
lesser place in the hearts of fans. Perhaps it’s the extreme length, or the
natural burden of being the conclusion, but it’s often reduced to being “the
one with all the battles” or “the one for the bros.” The former is partially true
– in addition to a handful of smaller skirmishes, ROTK boasts
the Battle of Osgiliath, the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and the
Battle of the Black Gate. However, on this rewatch, I found them to be
invigorating! I wrote at length about my problems with Two Towers last
time, but even a sequence as critically adored as Helm’s Deep left me cold with
its drab historical-fiction tone. The orcs may as well be another army of
humans – just with a more mud-based ideology. In contrast, the beast-heavy
warfare of ROTK lets its fantasy flag fly. Now, I’m not purely
pro-monster – this year hasn’t quite devolved me into someone who watches Monarch:
Legacy of Monsters – but Jackson’s direction and Wētā Workshop’s creature
design allow for the beasts of Middle-earth to bring forth that je ne
sais quoi juice I talked about in my Fellowship essay.
By shooting the Nazgûl fell beasts from below like horrendous carrion birds, or
using a handheld camera while a nightmarish troll chases civilians through a
narrow city street, Jackson not only establishes a respect for the series’
fantasy roots, but a bottom-of-the-food chain fear that brings to mind the
much-loved horror elements of the first film. Even the god-like
Mûmakil, elephants the size of Godzilla, should be silly – but Jackson’s Attack
on Titan introduction of them on the horizon (paired with Bernard
Hill’s look of “you gotta be fuckin’ me”) drops my heart into my guts. One of
my favorite scenes in the film happens quite early, as Gollum leads Frodo and
Sam past the maw of Minas Morgul. Jackson shoots this sequence like an
expressionist horror, with leering gargoyles wagging their tongues from neon
green bastions, and the Witch King of Angmar erupting from its peak like
Chernabog from Night on Bald Mountain. As touched on in my first
essay, this reliance on horror imagery opens up ROTK’s
bleeding-heart-earnestness to the audience, while also grounding these CGI
beasties in fear rather than pure spectacle.
In the shadow of this tidal wave of monsters, ROTK finds
its heart among the little people of Middle-earth – and I’m not just talkin’
Tooks. Side characters are given spotlights even outside the bounds of extended
edition scenes, reminding us of why we love these old friends (and new). For
example, the opening hour gifts the audience multiple scenes of characters just
hanging outside for a smoke or reveling in drink. Legolas and Gimli have often
had the short shrift throughout the trilogy–reduced to pure comedic relief or
just shouting out wild exposition on horseback. They’re not exactly gifted
monologues, but Legolas’s smoke break with Aragorn is a welcome chat among
friends, and Gimli crooning over “little hairy women” like a drunk Orson Welles
is a pure serotonin rush. Minor characters introduced in Two Towers like
Éowyn (Miranda Otto) or Faramir (David Wenham) are able to shake off the
stuffiness of the second entry and find their own footing – often via proximity
to Merry or Pippen. Merry and Pippen were already my favorite characters of the
trilogy, but their heart-wrenching separation after Pippen’s peek into the
Palantir widens the scope to explore the last two human civilizations’ march toward
doom. I have a soft spot for Faramir’s tale, as his band of Gondorion Rangers
feel like a faction ripped straight from D&D or any other fantasy RPG. As
well, the tragedy of his brother Boromir’s death introduces the Steward of
Schlubs. If there was a Geiger counter for schlubiness, Denethor (John Noble),
the Steward of Gondor, would light up like Chernobyl. Bundled in filthy white
coats, Denethor is cold inside and out – shriveled and cracked upon his stunted
throne. Aside from his legendary tomato-eating skills, Denethor serves as the
human antagonist – a grief-ridden figurehead whose cruelty teaches Pippen to
swear his loyalty to people rather than faded
institutions.
That loyalty and love is what allows our heroes to survive
such terrifying odds. Éowyn, the ferocious shield-maiden of Rohan, was saddled
with a non-starter of a romance plotline in Two Towers. Separated
from Aragorn, she can put away any modesty or unrequited pining and become the
warrior she was meant to be. Before her duel with the Witch King (arguably the
sickest fight in the entire trilogy), Éowyn wanders the lonely camps of Rohan’s
army with Merry – ruminating on the certain death that awaits. “I know I can’t
save Middle-earth,” says Merry, “I just want to help my friends.” The thing is,
those are the exact same thing. Sam and Frodo’s journey is the ultimate
testament to this – by staying true to one another, they’re able to save the
world. In my first essay on Fellowship, I marveled at how simple
and captivating Jackson and his team made this fantasy world seem compared to
the countless others that waste into obscurity. At the end of this journey,
it’s pretty simple to see why. It’s why people in your D&D group remember
the inside jokes and not the names of whatever kingdoms you made up. It’s why
there are five endings dedicated to reuniting the fellowship. It’s why at the
Battle of the Black Gate, when Aragorn charges into the darkness of death, his
rallying cry isn’t “for Gondor.”
It’s for Frodo.
That’s the end of Schlub Madness! Thank you for reading
these pieces (yes, you!) Whether you’ve been here since the beginning, or are
just stopping through, it means the world to me! Obviously, it was not ideal
for March Madness to last until October, but I’m proud to share these essays on
such a titanic franchise.
Looking ahead, expect another essay around November, as
well as an update on what to expect in 2025 (merch??)
The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is
streaming on HBO MAX and is available to rent on most streaming platforms.
Special thanks to Austin Smoldt-Sáenz, Elena Bruess,
Joshua De Lanoit, Claire Rogers, and Max Seifert.
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