shivohum
Keeper of the Quotes
- Joined
- Jun 21, 2001
- Posts
- 903
- Likes
- 12
Laborious. That's the word that best describes this second installment
of The Lord of the Rings movies. Endless tracts of filmed land and
sky, reams and endless reams of computer-generated special effects,
and a seemingly endless three hour length can't save this movie's
flashy exterior from its hollow mushy core. Yes, there are brief
special moments, hints of a magical movie that might have been, but
their greatest importance is in holding out some hope for the final
piece of the trilogy.
The second chapter begins with the battle of Gandalf against the
Balrog, and immediately the suspension of disbelief is broken. The
problems with this scene illustrate many of the problems that plague
the movie as a whole.
First, even more so than in the previous film, the Balrog is too much
bark and not enough bite. It flails left and right, roars, spouts
flames, and whips its tail. Yawn. Where's the monstrosity in the
monster? There's something in the computer animation that smooths the
terror out of what ought to be terrifying and renders it a mere
mechanical contraption. Get your
hissing-spitting-fire-breathing-what-not, 25% off today only.
Ironically, in attempting to show a "realistic" looking creature via
CGI, the movie caricatures its subject, whereas even a
carefully-wrought hand-drawn cartoon might have conveyed more of that
nightmarish quality that is the Balrog's true essence. One problem is
that the movie reveals too much. What is displayed on the screen is
circumscribed by it, and, as anyone who's watched a good horror movie
knows, only what is unknown can command true fear. Or, as GI Joe puts
it, "knowing is half the battle." Unfortunately, this tell-all
tendency afflicts all the monsters and villains in the movie.
Second, Gandalf hardly uses any of his powers. Why not? Isn't he
an arch- wizard? If Jackson is going to show the battle, he should
show Gandalf as doing a little more than what a mere physical
fighter might have accomplished.
Third, I don't think the backgrounds are really as richly detailed
and diverse as required. Gandalf and the Balrog are supposed to
battling in the deepest dungeons and the highest peaks, but that
specificity is lost in the background's homogeneity. There's
nothing striking, nothing sharp about the background scenery.
It's too broad, too blunt. A little more stylization would have been
welcome.
Gandalf finishes off the Balrog and enters another blasé scene of
redemption, where what ought to be a subtle and inspiring resurrection
somehow degenerates into a CGI slide show on astronomy.
Other plot lines now advance. Frodo and Sam meet Gollum, an actually
neat addition to the ensemble. Gollum is played reasonably well and
has a certain charm, if the dual personalities are smeared on a little
too thickly. By the way, Sean Astin did a good job butchering Sam's
character. Rarely have I seen actors play characters with such little
conviction. It must have taken real talent to make those lines sound
so mundane. The oh-so-googly-eyed melodramatic friendship between
Frodo and Sam does not help.
Meanwhile, there is unrest in Rohan. Wormtongue, a royal advisor who
practically drips with visible evil, as of course all evil advisors do
(that was sarcastic, folks), acts as Saruman's agent in poisoning the
king's mind. He banishes a loyal warrior and his troops for suggesting
that Rohan must attack Saruman and his roving bands of orcs openly.
Wormtongue reminds me of Snape from the Harry Potter movies. Snape fit
in his movie, though, while Wormtongue comes across as, like
everything else, woefully overdone. Oh, wait. Maybe he is in the right
movie.
Merry and Peppin escape from the band of orcs that capture them and
run into Fangorn forest. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli follow them
there, where Gandalf, who recently became a spokesperson for Tide,
reappears and informs them of the Rohan situation. Their help is
needed there. So they set off, and leave the hobbits to the Ents.
The Ents are another bright spot in the movie. Because of or in spite
of the CGI – I don't know which – something of the true grandeur and
dignity of these colossal beings is conveyed. Treebeard is probably
the role played most in consonance with the spirit of the books.
Gandalf and the gang reach Rohan, and the White Wizard sets the king
free of Wormtongue and Saruman's influence. This is another ludicrous
scene, where Gandalf's exorcism devolves into waving his staff around
wildly as if at some invisible beast, and knocking the king's
possessed body around telekinetically. Must magic be so tiringly
blatant? Can't Gandalf merely look the King in the eyes, and maybe
speak a word or two?
The king finally understands Saruman's threat and moves to Helm's Deep
to stave off the new army that is coming to "destroy his people." This
is stated over and over again in a grim and determined voice for the
benefit of amnesiac, or perhaps understandably napping, moviegoers.
Then there's a big battle at Helm's Deep. There are some moments of
cheer near the end, something of the will to "dream the impossible
dream," which is very much in Tolkien's spirit. It's at least
partially blunted, however, by the deafening roar of the long, tedious
battle scenes preceding it. Again, the CGI generated armies, though
"impressive," are not emotionally involving. The orcs look and act
like little plastic toys come to life, devoid of individuality and the
lusty savageness of the beast. It would be a good parody if it weren't
so serious. More of the Balrog syndrome. Some other stuff happens to
Frodo and then the movie ends its wearisome reign on what strains to
be a tantalizing note.
The Two Towers' main problem is that it tries too hard. It strives to
recreate Tolkien's world word-for-word, to show what it considers to
be the proper outward appearance. As a result, it fails to recognize
the value of the unseen, that it is what is not shown that creates
real awe. The movie shouts when a whisper would be far more effective.
It fills in the gaps with slippery plasticky CGI.
Everything is hammy, overacted, overdialogued, over-everythinged.
Maybe this is simply out of contempt for the audience and so is a
"feature," not a bug. In any case, this most certainly fatally flaws
even its vaunted recreation of Tolkien's world, since that world is
rooted in a mystery, depth, and subtlety that this movie does not
comprehend.
The lack of delicacy also manifests in the characters' lack of
personality and depth. Frodo and Sam emote far too much. Gimli is a
buffoon, and Legolas substitutes elven mystery and dignity for the
image of a comradely sharpshooter. The townspeople of Rohan look and
sound like extras smeared with makeup, told to look as if they had
signs on them reading "I'm scared," or "I'm sad." This goes doubly for
the saccharine children.
The lack of a tender touch is a problem from the first movie carried
into the second, and it's disappointing, though unsurprising, to see
that it hasn't been addressed. I think it's sad that so many viewers
excuse this by pointing to the movie's genre. Why expect realistic
characters in a fantasy, they ask? Such people remind me of others who
think vegetarians must be people who only eat salads. A fantasy is
like any other story in that the human element is its core, and
represents its essential compelling aspect.
The Two Towers just pulsates with the raw effort of its creation. It
pleads pathetically to be taken seriously as a proper reenactment of
its source material. This is precisely what a tale of mystery and
magic should not do. It should gaze boldly in its own direction, for
only it is only from the corner of one's eye that one can see the
faintest stars.
Pros
Can be majestic at moments. Better than first movie.
Cons
Hamfisted acting, cinematography, dialogue, characters, and most
everything else.
of The Lord of the Rings movies. Endless tracts of filmed land and
sky, reams and endless reams of computer-generated special effects,
and a seemingly endless three hour length can't save this movie's
flashy exterior from its hollow mushy core. Yes, there are brief
special moments, hints of a magical movie that might have been, but
their greatest importance is in holding out some hope for the final
piece of the trilogy.
The second chapter begins with the battle of Gandalf against the
Balrog, and immediately the suspension of disbelief is broken. The
problems with this scene illustrate many of the problems that plague
the movie as a whole.
First, even more so than in the previous film, the Balrog is too much
bark and not enough bite. It flails left and right, roars, spouts
flames, and whips its tail. Yawn. Where's the monstrosity in the
monster? There's something in the computer animation that smooths the
terror out of what ought to be terrifying and renders it a mere
mechanical contraption. Get your
hissing-spitting-fire-breathing-what-not, 25% off today only.
Ironically, in attempting to show a "realistic" looking creature via
CGI, the movie caricatures its subject, whereas even a
carefully-wrought hand-drawn cartoon might have conveyed more of that
nightmarish quality that is the Balrog's true essence. One problem is
that the movie reveals too much. What is displayed on the screen is
circumscribed by it, and, as anyone who's watched a good horror movie
knows, only what is unknown can command true fear. Or, as GI Joe puts
it, "knowing is half the battle." Unfortunately, this tell-all
tendency afflicts all the monsters and villains in the movie.
Second, Gandalf hardly uses any of his powers. Why not? Isn't he
an arch- wizard? If Jackson is going to show the battle, he should
show Gandalf as doing a little more than what a mere physical
fighter might have accomplished.
Third, I don't think the backgrounds are really as richly detailed
and diverse as required. Gandalf and the Balrog are supposed to
battling in the deepest dungeons and the highest peaks, but that
specificity is lost in the background's homogeneity. There's
nothing striking, nothing sharp about the background scenery.
It's too broad, too blunt. A little more stylization would have been
welcome.
Gandalf finishes off the Balrog and enters another blasé scene of
redemption, where what ought to be a subtle and inspiring resurrection
somehow degenerates into a CGI slide show on astronomy.
Other plot lines now advance. Frodo and Sam meet Gollum, an actually
neat addition to the ensemble. Gollum is played reasonably well and
has a certain charm, if the dual personalities are smeared on a little
too thickly. By the way, Sean Astin did a good job butchering Sam's
character. Rarely have I seen actors play characters with such little
conviction. It must have taken real talent to make those lines sound
so mundane. The oh-so-googly-eyed melodramatic friendship between
Frodo and Sam does not help.
Meanwhile, there is unrest in Rohan. Wormtongue, a royal advisor who
practically drips with visible evil, as of course all evil advisors do
(that was sarcastic, folks), acts as Saruman's agent in poisoning the
king's mind. He banishes a loyal warrior and his troops for suggesting
that Rohan must attack Saruman and his roving bands of orcs openly.
Wormtongue reminds me of Snape from the Harry Potter movies. Snape fit
in his movie, though, while Wormtongue comes across as, like
everything else, woefully overdone. Oh, wait. Maybe he is in the right
movie.
Merry and Peppin escape from the band of orcs that capture them and
run into Fangorn forest. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli follow them
there, where Gandalf, who recently became a spokesperson for Tide,
reappears and informs them of the Rohan situation. Their help is
needed there. So they set off, and leave the hobbits to the Ents.
The Ents are another bright spot in the movie. Because of or in spite
of the CGI – I don't know which – something of the true grandeur and
dignity of these colossal beings is conveyed. Treebeard is probably
the role played most in consonance with the spirit of the books.
Gandalf and the gang reach Rohan, and the White Wizard sets the king
free of Wormtongue and Saruman's influence. This is another ludicrous
scene, where Gandalf's exorcism devolves into waving his staff around
wildly as if at some invisible beast, and knocking the king's
possessed body around telekinetically. Must magic be so tiringly
blatant? Can't Gandalf merely look the King in the eyes, and maybe
speak a word or two?
The king finally understands Saruman's threat and moves to Helm's Deep
to stave off the new army that is coming to "destroy his people." This
is stated over and over again in a grim and determined voice for the
benefit of amnesiac, or perhaps understandably napping, moviegoers.
Then there's a big battle at Helm's Deep. There are some moments of
cheer near the end, something of the will to "dream the impossible
dream," which is very much in Tolkien's spirit. It's at least
partially blunted, however, by the deafening roar of the long, tedious
battle scenes preceding it. Again, the CGI generated armies, though
"impressive," are not emotionally involving. The orcs look and act
like little plastic toys come to life, devoid of individuality and the
lusty savageness of the beast. It would be a good parody if it weren't
so serious. More of the Balrog syndrome. Some other stuff happens to
Frodo and then the movie ends its wearisome reign on what strains to
be a tantalizing note.
The Two Towers' main problem is that it tries too hard. It strives to
recreate Tolkien's world word-for-word, to show what it considers to
be the proper outward appearance. As a result, it fails to recognize
the value of the unseen, that it is what is not shown that creates
real awe. The movie shouts when a whisper would be far more effective.
It fills in the gaps with slippery plasticky CGI.
Everything is hammy, overacted, overdialogued, over-everythinged.
Maybe this is simply out of contempt for the audience and so is a
"feature," not a bug. In any case, this most certainly fatally flaws
even its vaunted recreation of Tolkien's world, since that world is
rooted in a mystery, depth, and subtlety that this movie does not
comprehend.
The lack of delicacy also manifests in the characters' lack of
personality and depth. Frodo and Sam emote far too much. Gimli is a
buffoon, and Legolas substitutes elven mystery and dignity for the
image of a comradely sharpshooter. The townspeople of Rohan look and
sound like extras smeared with makeup, told to look as if they had
signs on them reading "I'm scared," or "I'm sad." This goes doubly for
the saccharine children.
The lack of a tender touch is a problem from the first movie carried
into the second, and it's disappointing, though unsurprising, to see
that it hasn't been addressed. I think it's sad that so many viewers
excuse this by pointing to the movie's genre. Why expect realistic
characters in a fantasy, they ask? Such people remind me of others who
think vegetarians must be people who only eat salads. A fantasy is
like any other story in that the human element is its core, and
represents its essential compelling aspect.
The Two Towers just pulsates with the raw effort of its creation. It
pleads pathetically to be taken seriously as a proper reenactment of
its source material. This is precisely what a tale of mystery and
magic should not do. It should gaze boldly in its own direction, for
only it is only from the corner of one's eye that one can see the
faintest stars.
Pros
Can be majestic at moments. Better than first movie.
Cons
Hamfisted acting, cinematography, dialogue, characters, and most
everything else.