I took three of the Four Horsemen (my stepsons) to see movies yesterday.
All three of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings movies. All in one day. Major butt numb-ery.
Like most children, I had heroes as I was growing up. Two of them were comic-book characters–Captain America (who always did the morally correct thing, even when it hurt) and the Batman (who essentially did the same thing).
The third was Professor J.R.R. Tolkien’s characters in LotR. I would visualize the scenes from the books every time I read them, which has been so often that I couldn’t possibly count them now. It made me sad to see that the Hobbit heroes weren’t recognized as such by their own people, especially Sam. (As Rick Emerson once remarked, “Samwise Gamgee never quite got the credit he deserved.”)
When the Jackson movies were announced, I so badly wanted them to be good, and faithful to the story, and not some badly-hacked Hollywood contrivance.
I was not disappointed.
Watching those movies again with me on Sunday, all of my children can now testify how I gasp in wonder at the Great Hall of Khazad-Dûm, celebrate just how well the Balrog 0f Moria was made, and shout in joy when Merry and Eowyn kill the Lord of the Nazgûl.
And I am always surprised by my tears as Frodo says goodbye to his friends and sails over the sea to Valinor and to rest.
You can bet your ass that I jumped up and cheered when Sam made his first appearance after he and Frodo were rescued from Mount Doom.
Frodo belongs in the same ranks as Beren and Luthien, and Tuor, and Fingolfin, but it was Sam that made it possible for Frodo to succeed.
I re-read the books back before the movies started coming out. Love JRRT’s prose style. But I can’t help but wonder why couldn’t the big eagles have just flown Frodo and the ring TO Mordor in the first place?