WWPJD?
Arwen Not Appearing In This Book
Everything I learned about revision I learned from…
…listening to the Writer/Directory commentary on The Lord of the Rings films with Peter Jackson and his writing partners Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens.
I’ve begun my annual reread of THE LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien (I think that ranks up there as one of the geekiest statements I have ever made). Tolkien forms a large part of my childhood as my dad used to read the books to me before I went to bed. To those who criticize Tolkien as being “dense”, “dry”, and “unreadable” I say Read them aloud. Or find a recording of Tolkien himself reading the books. There is a lovely, oral-storytelling quality to his fiction, well-suited to curling up at the foot of an armchair before a roaring fire on a stormy night. To people who say Tolkien can’t write, well, please to be reading “The Bridge of Khazad-Dum” chapter and tell me that the entire chapter didn’t keep you up at night with the creepy-crawlies.
His prose is evocative and lovely, but I will own that his narrative pacing could use some significant work. Infodumps, strange characters popping up for some deus ex machina before disappearing altogether, entire segments where the characters actually do nothing, etc. I try to get people to listen to THE LORD OF THE RINGS as much as possible because Tolkien is part of a dying breed of writers who are more closely tied to an oral tradition than this generation’s authors (please see: Philip Pullman and Lloyd Alexander).
Our concept of “what makes a good story” has evolved over the past century. Novels have become tighter, more streamlined, and for every thread introduced, we want to see a satisfying and emotional conclusion. Casts of characters have shrunk and a sense of epic has been injected even into the mundane.
I have both the theatrical and extended editions of The Lord of the Rings films. Narratively speaking, I think the theatrical releases are better: they’re much tighter, more focused, and all excess bloat has been trimmed. As a huge Tolkien fan, every little inclusion in the extended editions is cherished and squeed over, but objectively speaking, I think the theatrical cuts are better. Why? I will demonstrate with the cunning use of cartoon speech bubbles (nods to Maggie Stiefvater for the idea).
Where JJ Went WTF in The Fellowship of the Ring
Not Glorfindel
Excluding the exclusion (heh) of Tom Bombadil, the moment that made me WTF in the first film was the replacement of Glorfindel with Arwen. Not to bag on Arwen, but I admittedly have a bit of a bias against her. She appears once in THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING in “Many Meetings” and no mention is made of her relationship with Aragorn. None. Their deathless love is summed up thusly:
Frodo halted for a moment, looking back. Elrond was in his chair and the fire was on his face like summer-light upon the trees. Near him sat Lady Arwen. To his surprise Frodo saw that Aragorn stood beside her; his dark cloak was thrown back, and he seemed to be clad in elven-mail, and a star stone on his breast. They spoke together, and then suddenly it seemed to Frodo that Arwen turned towards him, and the light of her eyes fell on him from afar and pierced his heart.
When Éowyn is introduced in THE TWO TOWERS, I fully expected her to be the romantic interest. (Never mind that Tolkien actually wrote Aragorn and Éowyn marrying in an initial draft—but I won’t go there.) Imagine my surprise when Arwen reappears to claim Aragorn’s heart, having pwned Éowyn’s skill with weapons with her amazing sewing! (Why yes, I’m still bitter, can you tell?)
But here was a smart bit of film fudging on Jackson’s part. Glorfindel appears in “Flight to the Ford” to speed Frodo onto Lord Elrond’s to be healed from the Nazgûl-blade poison. Deus ex machina, only to disappear again. Knowing chances to endear the audience to Arwen were limited, Jackson trimmed an extraneous character and inserted someone more important. By introducing the romantic element early, we aren’t blindsided by the surprise sewing attacks later.
Rule No. 45: If thou dost include the lovemaking, yea verily thus, thou shalt include sufficient character interaction so that the audience may care. If not, please to excise the romantic element entirely, kthx.
Where JJ Went WTF in The Two Towers
Where was he when the Westfold fell?
Odd as this may sound, I think The Two Towers is the best film of the three, even though it is the most different from the books and is a connecting leg in a trilogy. Why?
Because contained in this one film is one huge build-up and one huge payoff. This story is overshadowed by the Battle of Helm’s Deep because, let’s face it, the hobbits are off wandering in Fangorn Forest or the Dead Marshes and being boring.
The moment Éomer is exiled in the film is when I turned to my friend Vendë and went, “Bguh?” Because Éomer is at the Battle of Helm’s Deep along with the others. He was never banished from Théoden King’s court. So why do this?
Because the characters must struggle against the lowest point of their despair before facing the terror anyway. The Two Towers is in many ways a traditional war movie: a scrappy, depleted bunch of unqualified soldiers stand against a horde of thousands in order to protect those they love. If only they could just hold out until the cavalry arrives! (The cavalry in this case being the Rohirrim riders led by Éomer.) The scrappier, the less-suited, the more underdog-ish, the better. This makes the inevitable triumph much more satisfying. The inclusion of the Elves (another absolute WTF moment) at Helm’s Deep only reinforces their underdog status: even with the help of an elite fighting force, they are hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched. (It also recalls the Last Alliance, etc. but that’s unimportant for this blog post.)
Jackson said in the commentary of this film that he had hours and hours of footage of the battle, but in the end, primarily used shots of his principals fighting. Every time the camera cut away from them to focus on other characters, he realised he kept wondering what Aragorn/Legolas/Gimli were doing. In the end, he put aside those hours of footage to focus on what was more important and more interesting. I admire his ability to ruthlessly cut things and wish I could do the same with my own work.
Rule No. 27: The stakes must necessarily be high for the climax to be emotionally satisfying. No pain, no gain.
Where JJ Went WTF in The Return of the King
WHAT. THE. HELL.
But perhaps the biggest screen betrayal for me was the moment Frodo sends Sam away at the Stairs of Cirith Ungol. What? What?! The other changes to the story were relatively minor, as neither Arwen nor Éomer could be considered a “main” character. But Sam? Sam is the heart of the books! What is this?
It took a little longer for me to become reconciled to this, but I am now able to see why this serves the story better. In the previous movie, the writers introduced the idea of Gollum coming between the friendship of Frodo and Sam, threatening to separate the two. Frodo’s growing paranoia and Sam’s distrust of Sméagol have strained their relationship to the breaking point, following the path of their character arcs to their logical conclusion. Frodo must enter Shelob’s cave alone and face utter despair. Sam must find the courage to carry on without his master (something he has to face at the end of the books). It is the nadir of emotional development for both characters, which only heightens the ultimate triumph at the Cracks of Doom. Not only are they now fighting to destroy the Ring, each step they take is a conscious decision they make for each other.
Also—although this is only pertinent to the film adaptation—if Frodo can send Sam away, then anything can happen. Holy cow! There is no steadfast rock for me to cling to! Sam is the story’s emotional center: whenever he feels happy or anxious or sad, we feel the same. Letting Sam go also makes us emotionally adrift, and therefore more anxious to see how things will get made right. God, Jackson is kind of a genius. (I knew this already, of course.)
Rule No. 1: Make your audience anxious about the outcome because they’re emotionally invested in the characters. It prevents them from putting the book down and finding something better.
Editing someone else’s work is much easier than editing your own. It’s Jackson’s ability to ruthlessly examine his and how it services story that makes him a great storyteller. Gaah.
