The Greatest Trick

Since I haven’t been to the cinema this week, I thought I’d post my original reviews of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I have slightly modified them to include thoughts on the extended editions, and made one or two other tweaks.

Whenever I see tabloid one-word reviews of The Lord of the Rings such as “Stunning”, “Magnificent” “Breathtaking” etc, the snob in me rises to the surface. These films are based on my favourite novel of all time. Mine, my very own! My precious! How dare they sum up JRR Tolkien’s classic trilogy in neat little sound bytes! I shan’t even attempt to. The Return of the King is quite beyond any superlative one can possibly think of. It is so overwhelming I couldn’t sleep after first watching it, probably because my adrenaline levels were so high. After the ludicrously high standard set by its predecessors, it seemed a tall order to top them; yet it does.

The story picks up exactly where The Two Towers left off, with Frodo and Sam off to Mordor (and possible betrayal) with Gollum. I should qualify that and say where the Two Towers film ended, not the novel. The second book goes considerably further, meaning the third film has a fair bit still to cover from part two. Hence, we finally get the stunningly scary battle with giant spider Shelob, as Frodo and Sam’s desperate journey goes from bad to worse. The former members of the Fellowship and their new allies join forces with the armies of Gondor to defend the city of Minas Tirith against a stupendously massive invasion from Mordor. Yet, as Gandalf puts it, all this is simply to distract the Dark Lord from Frodo’s quest.

There are too many great moments to pick a favourite from, but the terrifying appearance of the Nazgul at Minas Morgul would be one. Gandalf and Pippin’s epic ride to Minas Tirith another, and obviously the cataclysmic battle in Gondor with its catapults, oliphants, trolls, charging Rohirrim, armies of the Dead, and that truly amazing confrontation between Eowyn and the Witch King. In contrast to this, Frodo and Sam’s epic, painful crawl up Mount Doom is intensely moving, and the fiery climax where Frodo’s resolve finally cracks is every bit as supremely dramatic and unexpected as in the novel.

Once again, the entire cast contribute faultless performances. Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Frodo (Elijah Wood), Gandalf (Ian McKellen), and Sam (Sean Astin) would tie for man-of-the-match award. However, Eowyn (Mirando Otto) and Pippin (Billy Boyd) are also worthy of special mention. Pippin is my favourite character in the entire saga, by the way.

And again, the special effects and computer graphics are incredible in their detail and believability (especially the amazing battles, the monstrous Shelob and Andy Serkis’ Gollum). Howard Shore excels himself with his stunningly moving score, mixing both new and old music from the previous films. The cinematography is breathtaking, with New Zealand looking more beautiful and menacing than ever doubling for Middle Earth. The costumes, art direction, sound, editing, and every other conceivable detail is better than first-rate.

There are a few changes to the book, and those changes enhance the plot (for instance, the stunning beacon lighting sequence). On the whole though, this picture is closest of the three films to the novels. The screenplay perfectly captures the excitement, heroism, darkness, humour, tragedy, triumph and melancholy of the novel. Not since David Lean’s vivid 1946 adaptation of Charles Dickens Great Expectations has a book been so brilliantly realised on screen. Some critics have quibbled the film has too many endings. Shame on them. I for one am profoundly grateful the film, like the book, takes its time to wrap up and show exactly what ultimately happens to the characters we’ve come to know and love.

I realise Tolkien was not trying to write an allegory, but one can’t help seeing how his Christian faith influenced the story. The film opens with a brilliant flashback showing how Smeagol found the ring, then murdered for it, thus beginning his transformation into the grotesque Gollum. This whole sequence is eerily reminiscent of the Cain and Abel story. Also, there are characters that seem to represent the Holy Trinity. Frodo struggling up Mount Doom with the ring (symbolising all the evil and sin of the world) reflects Christ carrying the cross to Calvary. Gandalf, in his guidance and counsel resembles the Holy Spirit. Aragorn’s returning King is like God the Father in his glory, power and ultimate triumph. Also, the main themes of friendship, loyalty, sacrifice, temptation, immortality and the cost of good triumphing over evil are here taken to their ultimate conclusion.

Like the book, The Return of the King will thrill you and move you. It will make you laugh, cry, think, and ultimately break your heart. I guarantee there won’t be a dry eye in the house in the last scenes at the Grey Havens. To quote Gandalf’s final words, “I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are evil”.

So, which version to see? Theatrical cut or extended? Well, in the extended edition, Saruman’s demise opens the film, with Christopher Lee on top form as ever. It’s a fine addition, combining elements of the deleted penultimate chapter The Scouring of the Shire, along with what happened in the book originally.

New footage also includes the Houses of Healing, and the subplot of Eowyn falling in love with Faramir, explanation about Gondor and the White Tree, plus more action and battle scenes which although not strictly necessary, are fun to see nonetheless. The new scene with Aragorn using the Palantir to challenge Sauron is also good.

If you want to pick nits, the Mouth of Sauron sequence doesn’t quite work because of the way the book is structured differently to the film. In the book, the reader does not know Frodo is alive whereas in the film the viewer does as the films been cutting back and forth between plotlines. Also, the Paths of the Dead sequence was better in the cinema version, as the surprise appearance of the Dead Army is no longer a surprise. That said, overall, the extended edition is better.

Simon Dillon, December 2003.

The second film in Peter Jackson’s epic adaptation of JRR Tolkien’s classic trilogy The Lord of the Rings is every bit as much a triumph as the first. Wisely eschewing the `previously-on-The Lord of the Rings’ type nonsense that so often wastes valuable screen time in such works, Jackson literally hurls you straight back into the plot, as Gandalf battles the Balrog in a stunning opening duel. Some have criticised this lack of a re-cap as being insensitive to those who haven’t read the book or seen the first film. However, I’ve no sympathy for anyone who’s not done at least one of those two. Anyone coming to The Two Towers with no previous knowledge would soon get hopelessly lost in any case.

The plot follows threes strands. First and foremost, it concerns Frodo and Sam’s journey to Mordor as they attempt to put and end to the Ring. They are guided by the Ring’s previous owner Gollum, a twisted, demented creature coming across like a schizophrenic drug addict. In the second plotline, Human Aragorn, Elf Legolas, and Dwarf Gimli search for the other Hobbits captured by Uruk-Hai in the previous installment. Along the way they enter the land of Rohan and help its beleaguered King Theoden fight Saruman’s evil army of Uruk-Hai. The third plot strand follows the plight of Hobbits Pippin and Merry (whom Aragorn and his companions seek) as they escape the Uruk-Hai and befriend the mysterious Ent Treebeard, a walking talking tree.

Given the extreme difficulty in adapting The Two Towers as a film, Peter Jackson has done an incredible job creating a coherent film. He wisely opted to end the film short of where the book ends (the latter chapters of the book will take place in the third film). Certain elements of the book he has tweaked (most notably the character of Faramir, Boromir’s brother) to, in my opinion, good effect.

Great scenes include the battle at Helms Deep, the triumphant, cheer-out-loud storming of Isengard by the Ents, and the beautiful love story between Aragorn and Arwen, particularly the melancholy “flash forward” as Arwen’s father Elrond warns her of the consequences of an immortal marrying a mortal. But best of all is Gollum’s conversation with himself – by turns hilarious, disturbing and tragic. It will no doubt go down in cinema history as an absolutely classic scene.

Performance wise, the high standard set by the first film continues. All the characters from the first film are just as good, if not better here. New characters Theoden (the splendid Bernard Hill), Eowyn (Mirando Otto) and Faramir (David Wenham) are all brilliantly brought to life. Worthy of special mention is the fantastic rendering of Gollum, without doubt the best CGI character ever created.

The special effects continue to stun. I always thought the army of Ents storming Isengard would be impossible to put on film - I was wrong. Also, the battle of Helms Deep is a triumph - a stunning battle which more than lives up to its counterpart in the book. The production design, editing, sound and cinematography are as impressive as ever.

Howard Shore’s score is nothing less than a work of genius in its own right. From the heroic Rohan theme to the melancholic and haunting Gollum’s song, this is an unparalleled work. Less immediately showy than Fellowship’s themes (some of which are briefly reprised here) this ultimately gets under one’s skin more than the music of the first film (no mean feat).

All in all, this is another triumph. Darker and more action packed than its predecessor, The Two Towers is a great continuation of a great story, and a wonderful, heroic epic. It’s weighty themes of immortality, betrayal, genocide, temptation and sacrifice and nicely balanced by a great sense of humour that runs throughout. Gimli provides a lot of laughs, and one line by Treebeard (surprisingly not in Tolkien’s book) offers a wonderfully bizarre but true observation - `I always like going south. Somehow it feels like going downhill.’ Quite.

It’s also worth noting that of the three films, The Two Towers most of all demands to be seen in its extended edition – particularly for a flashback involving Faramir. The cinema cut is obsolete in comparison. Do try and watch the extended version.

Simon Dillon, December 2002.

JRR Tolkien’s staggering trilogy The Lord of the Rings is my favourite novel of all time. To call it the literary equivalent of the (original) Star Wars trilogy if anything undersells it, as much of Star Wars is inspired by it. When I heard Peter Jackson was going to make films of my `precious’ books I was nervous to say the least. How could he possibly succeed?

Then, in December 2001, I breathed an immense sigh of relief combined with an almighty gasp of delighted surprise. The first film in the trilogy not only lived up to expectations, it surpassed them. If anything, the film was better than the book. I say this simply because cinema is my preferred artistic medium. What Peter Jackson did was not merely film the book (as was the case with the first two Harry Potter films) but instead translated it into cinema. Jackson emphasised what was cinematically potent, reinvented a number of sequences and trimmed a few others with the apparent motto `show don’t tell’, which is of course what great cinema does.

The resultant adaptation of The Fellowship of the Ring is an unmitigated masterpiece. A dynamic, epic, beautiful and sweeping work that knocks the socks of anything in the fantasy genre since Star Wars in 1977. It is nothing less than criminal that it didn’t win the Oscar for best picture.

The deceptively simple plot can be summed up in one phrase: `evil ring must be destroyed’. For this to happen, representatives of all races in Middle Earth - Humans, Hobbits, Elves, Dwarfs etc - must unite against the forces of evil led by the Dark Lord Sauron who wants to regain the great Ring to rule and cover all the world in darkness.

The complicated backstory is brilliantly rendered in a splendid prologue outlining the history of the Ring and how it came to be in the hands of the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo’s nephew, Frodo, takes up the quest to destroy the Ring with the help of wizard Gandalf and a fellowship representing the other races in Middle Earth.

The ensuing adventure is so full of excitement, adventure, humour, irony, melancholy, terror and tragedy that it really is impossible to describe the emotions of the story in a few words. Although the plot deals specifically with the timeless theme of good versus evil, it also encompasses complex issues such as immortality, temptation, and growing up. There have been several misguided attempts at pinning Tolkien’s work down in allegorical terms, most recently to the post September 11th war against terrorism. To do this is to miss the point. Tolkien himself claimed his work was neither allegorical or topical. It was instead intended to be a `fake history’ or mythology for England and Europe, rooted deeply in his Christian beliefs.

My favourite moments include the beautiful idyllic rendering of the Shire, showing just what these characters will be fighting to protect. The cracking chase with the Black Riders is brilliantly adapted from page to screen, and the Mines of Moria, battle with the Balrog and “fall” of Gandalf provide a dramatic centrepiece few films can match. This is epic storytelling at its absolute best.

Jackson wisely deleted a number of things from Fellowship, including a chapter called the Old Forest where the hobbits encounter malevolent trees that come across like evil versions of the Ents, plus a character called Tom Bombadil, a bizarre hippy like character who sings to the evil trees to save Frodo et al. This section is largely irrelevant to the main plot (Bombadil is the one person in the entire saga unaffected by the ring for reasons that remain enigmatic at best), and whilst it works as an interesting digression in the novel, the film rightly kept the focus on the flight from the Black Riders. Another interesting (though again ultimately irrelevant) section cut from the book was a chapter where the hobbits encounter terrifying spectres called Barrow-Wights on a haunted moor.

The casting in the film is impeccable. Sir Ian McKellen simply is Gandalf, Elijah Wood excels as Frodo, Viggo Mortensen is superbly rugged as hushed-up-King Aragorn, Ian Holm makes a tragic and moving Bilbo, Sean Bean is wonderful as Boromir - a man gradually seduced by the evil of the Ring, and Christopher Lee is great as turncoat wizard Saruman to name just a few.

The cinematography is staggeringly beautiful, making great use of breathtaking New Zealand locations. The special effects and production design are groundbreaking. Editing and sound are both first-rate.

Finally, Howard Shore’s magnificent music score deserves a special mention, the best I’ve heard of its type this side of Star Wars. Not only does he manage to create a sweeping work similar to a full-blown opera, but he manages to incorporate Elvish poems and songs that were an frequent feature of the novel unable to be included elsewhere.

The extended edition of the film is an interesting alternative edit, with new bits and pieces which are all good (especially for fans of the book), but to be honest it doesn’t matter which version you see. The film’s staggering attention to detail, its unswerving conviction and its brisk pace (not a duff moment in its entire running time) make this quite simply one third of the greatest fantasy film ever made.

Simon Dillon, December 2001.

Eastern Europe in a state of flux. US immigration controls tighter than they have ever been. Paranoia, suspicion and potential threats to security. Doesn’t sound like your average cross-cultural comedy, does it? Directed by Steven Spielberg, this lighter-than-air confection is a delight from beginning to end, with a remarkable deftness of touch which doesn’t leave you feeling smooshy and sentimental but simply satisfied, as is the main character.

Viktor Navorski is a visitor to New York from Krakhozia, a fictional Eastern European country which undergoes a military coup while he is in flight across the Atlantic. By the time he lands, his country is no longer recognised as valid by the UN and all entry visas have been revoked, rendering him an unacceptable anomaly. He can’t be sent home, as he has no home to go to, and he can’t be allowed into the US because his passport is invalid. So airport controller Dixon (Stanley Tucci) allows him to stay in the international transfer lounge until the situation is sorted. Little does either of them know that it will end up being a nine-month sorting-out period…

Tom Hanks went through an amazingly successful period in the mid-nineties with a run of astonishingly bad films - the two prime contenders being the so-PC-it-destroys-its-own-message Philadelphia and the ridiculous Forrest Gump, both of which earned him best actor Oscars, though the Academy only knows how. He has made it his job to play the ‘everyman’ to perfection, and people seem to love him for doing this. I have never understood why. The only roles I have really enjoyed of his are some of his early comedies (a good example being The Money Pit, a so-so movie with a great display of slapstick and comedic timing from Hanks, and of course Big, which really rocketed him into the big time and the crap movies) and films where he steps out of his “loveable nice guy” persona into something with a bit more meat on the role - Road to Perdition, The Green Mile or Catch Me If You Can for example. So I was a little concerned about The Terminal, knowing that it was a ’soft’ Spielberg. But what saves the film from descending into schmaltz is in fact Hanks’ performance, and the fact that he has to portray someone very linguistically limited for most of the proceedings. Navorski is still more or less an everyman, but such a fish-out-of-water too, and Hanks rediscovers some of his comedy talents in the portrayal of this lost guy, stuck in the system.

Sadly, Catherine Zeta-Jones as the love interest can’t match him for watchability in the least bit. Frankly, I doubt if she could match the watchability of a motionless wooden stick. While Navorski makes marvellous efforts to secure his entry into the US, bring together two co-workers in the airport (such a sweet sub-plot), get himself a job, learn English and impress Zeta-Jones’ air hostess, she minces around unconvincingly trying to sort out her own stupidity. You’re fighting a losing battle, woman! You’re played by Catherine Zeta-Jones, therefore doomed to dumbness for eternity! Why she was cast in the role is beyond me, but then I don’t really know why I even know the woman’s name, bearing in mind her “talent”.

The rest of the ensemble around Hanks is well-assembled and keeps the proceedings light, especially the Indian cleaner who delights in causing passengers to slip on his wet patches just to brighten his day, who is also convinced that Navorski is a spy. Tucci as the airport controller has an interesting journey though the movie, and is an effective foil: another everyman, but on the other side of the bureaucratic process. In terms of content there is very little to cause offense, with the exception of a bit of swearing, to my memory. Largely recommended.

We have to apologise to anybody who was unfortunate enough to have seen the image that got dropped into our Charlie and the Chocolate Factory review. We have no idea how it got there, obviously, but judging by the code, my best guess is that someone had configured a little programme that would dump their picture into anything that had ‘charlie’ and certain other words somewhere in the text. (So it doesn’t seem that we are more likely to be hacked in the future, if anyone was concerned.)

Thank you so much to Simon for letting us know.

These days, westerns are like buses. You’re waiting ages for one, then suddenly three turn up. If like me you’re a fan of the genre, this ought to be great news. Unfortunately, Brokeback Mountain wasn’t really a western (nor was it enjoyable), The Proposition was set in Australia so it shouldn’t count, but Tommy Lee Jones directorial debut The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is most definitely a proper western, albeit one set in the present.

When ranch hand Pete Perkins discovers his Mexican friend Melquiades Estrada has been shot and left in a shallow grave near the border, he sets about investigating who perpetrated the crime. However, the local sheriff is indifferent, and buries the Mexican in an inaccurately marked grave since he was a “wetback” (illegal immigrant). Despite this, eventually Pete discovers the identity of the killer; a border patrolman named Mike Norton who the other border police are covering up for. Furious at the authorities turning a blind eye, Pete takes the law into his own hands, exhuming his friend for a journey to Mexico where he asked to be buried, should he ever die in the US. Pete also kidnaps Mike and forces him to take the journey with him.

Tommy Lee Jones directs with an effective leisurely simplicity very much in the style of Clint Eastwood. Legendary cinematographer Chris Menges does a terrific job shooting beautiful border locations, and Guillermo Arriaga’s screenplay is as excellent as his previous work on the likes of Amores Perros. The performances are good, especially from Barry Pepper (the religious sharpshooter from Saving Private Ryan) as Mike Norton. January Jones (from Love Actually) also lends fine support as his neglected wife, Lou Ann. But man-of-the-match obviously goes to Tommy Lee Jones, both as an actor and director, and his subtle, understated turn as Pete Perkins provides the enigmatic heart of this unusually good picture.

This is very much a film of two halves. The first is told with multiple flashbacks, showing the different points of view on the murder, plus explaining the backgrounds of Melquiades and Mike. Melquiades had left his wife and children in Mexico for reasons unknown, whereupon Pete hired him and their unlikely friendship developed. On the other hand, Mike came to the town with his young, pretty, fish-out-of-water wife, having been assigned to border patrol. At first he is brutal, stand-offish, and thoroughly unpleasant, even though the shooting of Melquiades turns out to be accidental.

However, in the second half of the film, Mike’s character gradually changes, as he realises the nature of what he has done and comes to regret it. This is a story of redemption, and the film’s message seems to be that whist all of the characters are flawed, none of them are beyond salvation. From a Christian standpoint the film is a powerful, hopeful meditation on repentance and forgiveness containing several vivid images which illustrate these points. One sequence where Mike tries to escape from Pete on their journey to Mexico is particularly interesting. Pete simply lets him run away, knowing that because he is on horseback, he cannot escape. Several amusing shots show Mike desperately running and Pete calming trailing behind on his horse a few feet away. Eventually Mike gives up. This is a superb picture of the futility of running away from God, who will always hold all of us to account for what we have done.

However, the positive Christian messages are negated somewhat by the depictions of adultery in the first half of the film. Incidental to the plot is that almost every character is having affairs, many of them openly with their spouses simply not caring. To be fair, this adultery is a plot device that illustrates the compromised and indifferent attitudes of the sleepy border town. But having Pete participate in them saps audience belief in his moral integrity with regard to his insistence that his friend be properly buried. During the story he says he “doesn’t want to offend” God, but later tries to convince his lover Rachel (who he knows has affairs with other men besides him), to run away with him to Mexico. Of course you could argue that this simply makes him a complex, flawed character, but it also makes him a hypocrite and undermines the moral message of the film.

That aside, there is a little violence, plenty of swearing, and – as previously alluded to –sexual content that will put some Christians off despite the overall positive message. It’s also not a film for everyone; some will find it slow, and possibly confusing in the first half. However, if you stick with it, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada is an immensely dramatic, thoughtful, darkly funny, poignant and rewarding experience.

Simon Dillon, April 2006.

Winner of this year’s Best Foreign film at the Oscars, Tsotsi is a simple but potent tale of redemption set in South Africa.

Johannesburg petty criminal Tsotsi shoots a woman in a carjacking and drives away with her vehicle, only to find a baby boy in the backseat. Bizarrely, he forms an attachment to the child and attempts to look after it. At times such attempts are painful to watch, such as one excruciating sequence where he tries to change a nappy using newspaper. Nevertheless, bonding with the baby causes him to realise what he has become, and gradually, he begins to rediscover his humanity. Meanwhile, the police are hot on his tail which sets the scene for an inevitable but redemptive and moving finale.

Although Tsotsi is a repellent thug (the word Tsotsi literally means thug), flashbacks tell you his real name, and show his AIDS afflicted mother and abusive father, nicely fleshing out his background. One image of him living in a section of pipe having run away from home is particularly stark, and these moments give the film an unusual haunting power.

A terrific central performance by Presley Chweneyagae holds the film together, and writer/director Gavin Hood makes great use of South African locations, particularly the poverty stricken township where Tsotsi resides. Speaking of which, I particularly liked the way the film demonstrated that he is responsible for his actions regardless of his background, as many of the other characters in his neighbourhood (such as a local mother he press gangs into wet nursing) lead comparatively happy, law-abiding lives. The film is sentimental, but in a good way, without being mawkish. There is also some violence, and a good deal of swearing, but all of which seemed justified by context. Overall, a small gem of a film, well worth checking out.

Simon Dillon, April 2006.