Flak Magazine: Review of The Two Towers, 12-27-02

The Two Towers is a departure from the award-winning formula of The Fellowship of the Ring, yet is by far the more magnificent movie. It succeeds on the two requisite criteria for a trilogy's successful middle movie — it carries along a compelling story while it establishes a sturdy third chapter — and it does it in such slam-dunk fashion that audiences will return to immerse themselves in the War of the Ring.

The whole flow is a departure from Fellowship, which tracked Tolkien's ninesome across plains and through caves until they were dispersed. Towers flips between three storylines — genocide, tree-hugging and the Ring quest — like a kid who just discovered the "previous channel" button. Each strain is propelled nicely across the three-hour film, but the sum is that each character's screen time is cut down to an hour at best — and even less if you're the suddenly elusive Gandalf.

The most compelling strain is Aragorn's, which introduces Theoden, King of Rohan, to the fray. Aragorn (Viggo Mortenson) and Theoden (Bernard Hill) are glued together at the hip to acclimate the audience to the idea of Aragorn as a king-to-be, rightful heir of Gondor. And nothing less than the future of mankind rests on his shoulders once Saruman dispatches 10,000 Uruk-Hai beasts to wipe out the 300 humans barricaded in Helm's Deep. Yes, a big battle ensues, and yes, it is a marvel, but the movie's reliance on cross-cutting doesn't let up even here, insisting that we flip out of breathtaking sequences and into less interesting storylines, like Merry and Pippin gaily hanging from the branches of Treebeard (yes, a giant walking tree, with a beard).

This is unsettling if you remember that line from the prologue of Fellowship — "There will come a time when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all." That sentiment has faded, as this is by far a more human-centric film focused on Aragorn's ascension, while Frodo and Sam end up almost exactly where they started. The structure is contrary to the saga's real drama: If Aragorn fails, humankind will be wiped out, but if Frodo and Sam don't take care of business, all reaches of life are doomed. What really matters is Frodo's success, not Aragorn's, and Towers doesn't make us suitably nervous about our hobbits' quest.

Concerning the Frodo train: Jar Jar Binks, Sully, and the Final Fantasy squad can all find their way to the back seat. Gollum, the former ringbearer and Frodo and Sam's guide to Mordor, is computer-rendered from head to hilt (based on a physical performance by Andy Serkis), and the character is both technologically and dramatically impressive. Gollum "performs" wonderfully, evoking precisely the pathos Tolkien intended for this creature. He's been warped (both mentally and physically) from harboring the ring for hundreds of years, and he bares his e-soul in a stunning soliloquy early in the journey. This creature, the most vital component to the most important quest in thousands of years, is split down the middle into separate personas: Gollum, taken with the same ring-lust that ensnared Boromir and Bilbo, and Smeagol, the inocuous fellow who came upon the Ring. The monologue is these two halves raging back and forth in the dead of night, demonstrating that the world's hopes may be built on a severely cracked foundation. It's a point you're sold on (and scared by) only because the Gollum CGI has been so magnificently executed.

While the story of the trilogy is rooted in mythology and lore, Towers presents many images that beg for modern context. Some may try to read far too far into this installment as social commentary, especially in the case of the Ents, tree people who talk as laboriously as they walk. Tolkien himself noted that he "cordially dislike[s] allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence." Still, Tolkien leaves a lot of allegorical-looking stuff lying around: trees fighting industry, Gollum-as-society, the Ring itself — all pleading for interpretation. It should also be noted that audiences are again becoming enthralled with the War of the Ring during a time of war — the film is being released concurrent with the war on terrorism (that's even evoked in the film's title); the book was conceived at the onset of World War II and had a surge in popularity among Vietnam-era counterculture types. That all of this is allegedly coincidence speaks volumes about the depth of this story. It has never (not now as a film, not before as a book) needed anything but its own two feet as support.

This age of Tolkien-heads will bemoan the film's inclusions (Aragorn's swim, Frodo's trip to Osgiliath, anything with Arwen) more than its exclusions (Shelob, Shelob, Shelob), but this isn't a horrible sin to commit. Fellowship should have prepared readers for the fact that Jackson steers this ship and can divide the story however he pleases. He has championed the cause of making movie magic out of the trilogy, and he is doing it well. Besides, for as long as we know that for as long as the threat of Mordor persists, the specter of The Return of the King keeps looking better and better.

— Andy Stilp (andy.stilp at gmail dot com)