General / Off-Topic Tomatoes, sausages, nice crispy bacon...
- Thread starter glynie
- Start date
Errrrrr, odd question 
I love LOTR
I love LOTR
Errrrrr, odd question
I love LOTR
It is a very odd question.
As to the film, it takes Hollywood to completely mess things up.
Apologies to Flash Baggins and others who may have enjoyed the film. Hollywood has a tradition of messing up interpretations of classic literature. But even it its standards, the LOTR movies were bad.
http://www.councilofelrond.com/subject/and-some-nice-crispy-bacon/
Good then, that they were made in New Zealand and Peter Jackson got free reigns to make an impressive trilogy and an transferred the story and the world of middle earth masterfully from book to screen.
Last edited:
/
I'll add you to that list.
Pleased you enjoyed the film.
May I ask what aspects you particularly enjoyed?
Do you think it was plausible to portray the hobbits as children?
Or Frodo as a paranoid neurotic?
Strider/Aragorn as if he had just walked out of a hairdresser?
Also, how do you feel about the decision to miss out on the conclusion?
Could the problem have been that Jackson wasn't very good, emphasised by the re imaging of The Hobbit movies by Guillermo del Toro?
I voted bacon here's why :
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/...st-thing-of-all-time-says-bacon-2013030761993
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/...st-thing-of-all-time-says-bacon-2013030761993
This is an excert from Lord of the Rings. The chapter, Scouring the Shire, perhaps the single most important chapter in the whole story.
Here, Sam has followed, accompanied, encouraged, dragged and protected Frodo, Past the enemy, into its very stronghold and to Mount Doom.
Now he is back, to find the Hobbits of the shire have kowtowed to Bill Feney's ruffians, secretly working for Saron.
Frodo, by this time, is utterly exhausted and has no will left to fight.
Before joining Merry and Pippen, to face down the ruffians and free the Shire, Sam goes to see his girlfriend:
Here, Sam has followed, accompanied, encouraged, dragged and protected Frodo, Past the enemy, into its very stronghold and to Mount Doom.
Now he is back, to find the Hobbits of the shire have kowtowed to Bill Feney's ruffians, secretly working for Saron.
Frodo, by this time, is utterly exhausted and has no will left to fight.
Before joining Merry and Pippen, to face down the ruffians and free the Shire, Sam goes to see his girlfriend:
Cirith Ungol
But it was too late. At that moment the rock quivered and trembled beneath them. The great rumbling noise, louder than ever before, rolled in the ground and echoed in the mountains. Then with searing suddenness there came a red flash. Far beyond the eastern mountains it leapt into the sky and splashed the lowering clouds with crimson. In that valley of shadow and cold deathly light it seemed unbearably violent and fierce. Peaks of stone and ridges like notched knives sprang up in the staring black against the uprusheing flame in Gorgoroth. Then there came a crack of thunder.
And Minas Morgul answered. There was a flare of livid lightnings: forks of blue flame sprang from the tower and from the encircling hills into the sullen clouds. The earth groaned and out of the city there came a cry. Mingled with harsh high voices as of birds of prey beyond the range of hearing. The hobbits wheeled round towards it, and cast themselves down, holding their hands against their ears.
As the terrible cry ended, falling back through a sickening wail of silence, Frodo raised his head. Across the narrow valley, now almost on a level with their eyes, the walls of the evil city stood, and its cavernous gate, shaped like and open mouth with gleaming teeth, was gaping wide. Out of the gate and army came.
All that host was clad in sable, dark as the night. Against the wan walls and luminous pavement of the road, Frodo could see them, small black figures in rank upon rank, marching swiftly and silently, passing outwards in and endless stream. Before them was a great cavarly of horsemen moving like ordered shadows, and at their head was one greater than all the rest: a Rider, all black, save that on his hooded head he had a helm like a crown that flickered with a perilous light. Now he was drawing near the bridge below, and Frodo's staring eyes followed him, unable to wink or withdraw. Surely this was the Lord of the Nine Riders returned to earth to lead his ghastly host to battle? Here, yes here indeed was the haggard king whose cold hand had smitten down the ring-bearer with his deadly knife. The old wound throbbed with pain and a great chill spread towards Frodo's heart.
Even as these thoughts pierced him with dread and held him bound with a spell, the Rider halted suddenly, right before the entrance to the bridge, and behind him all the host stood still. There was a pause and a dead silence. Maybe it was the Ring that called to the Wraith Lord, and for a moment, he was troubled, sensing some other power in the valley, This way and that turned the dark head helmed and crowned with its unseen eyes. Frodo waited, like a bird at the approaching of a snake, unable to move. As he waited, he felt more urgent than ever before, the command that he should put on the Ring. But great as the pressure was, he felt no inclination now to yield to it. He knew that the Ring would only betray him, and that he had not, even if he put it on, the power to face the Morgul-King - not yet. There was no longer any answer to that command in his own will, dismayed by terror though it was, and he felt only the beating upon him of a great power from outside. It took his hand, and as Frodo watched with his mind, not willing it but in suspense (as if he looked in some old story far away),it moved the hand inch by inch toward the chain on his neck. Then his own will stirred; slowly it forced the hand back and set it to another thing, a thing hidden near his breast. Cold and hard it seemed as his grip closed upon it: the phial of Galadriel, so long treasured, and almost forgotten till that hour. As he touched it, for a while, all thought of the Ring was banished from his mind. He sighed and bent his head.
At that moment, the Wraith-king turned and spurred his horse and rode across the bridge, and all his dark host followed him. Maybe the Elven hoods defied his unseen eyes, and the mind of his small enemy, being strengthened, had turned aside his thought. But he was in haste. Already the hour had struck, and at his great Master's bidding he must march to war into the west.
Soon he had passed like a shadow into a shadow, down the winding road, and behind him still the black ranks crossed the bridge. So great and army had never issued from that vale since the days of Isildur's might; no host so fell and strong in arms had yet assailed the fords of Anduin; and yet it was but one and not the greatest of the hosts that Mordor now sent forth.
But it was too late. At that moment the rock quivered and trembled beneath them. The great rumbling noise, louder than ever before, rolled in the ground and echoed in the mountains. Then with searing suddenness there came a red flash. Far beyond the eastern mountains it leapt into the sky and splashed the lowering clouds with crimson. In that valley of shadow and cold deathly light it seemed unbearably violent and fierce. Peaks of stone and ridges like notched knives sprang up in the staring black against the uprusheing flame in Gorgoroth. Then there came a crack of thunder.
And Minas Morgul answered. There was a flare of livid lightnings: forks of blue flame sprang from the tower and from the encircling hills into the sullen clouds. The earth groaned and out of the city there came a cry. Mingled with harsh high voices as of birds of prey beyond the range of hearing. The hobbits wheeled round towards it, and cast themselves down, holding their hands against their ears.
As the terrible cry ended, falling back through a sickening wail of silence, Frodo raised his head. Across the narrow valley, now almost on a level with their eyes, the walls of the evil city stood, and its cavernous gate, shaped like and open mouth with gleaming teeth, was gaping wide. Out of the gate and army came.
All that host was clad in sable, dark as the night. Against the wan walls and luminous pavement of the road, Frodo could see them, small black figures in rank upon rank, marching swiftly and silently, passing outwards in and endless stream. Before them was a great cavarly of horsemen moving like ordered shadows, and at their head was one greater than all the rest: a Rider, all black, save that on his hooded head he had a helm like a crown that flickered with a perilous light. Now he was drawing near the bridge below, and Frodo's staring eyes followed him, unable to wink or withdraw. Surely this was the Lord of the Nine Riders returned to earth to lead his ghastly host to battle? Here, yes here indeed was the haggard king whose cold hand had smitten down the ring-bearer with his deadly knife. The old wound throbbed with pain and a great chill spread towards Frodo's heart.
Even as these thoughts pierced him with dread and held him bound with a spell, the Rider halted suddenly, right before the entrance to the bridge, and behind him all the host stood still. There was a pause and a dead silence. Maybe it was the Ring that called to the Wraith Lord, and for a moment, he was troubled, sensing some other power in the valley, This way and that turned the dark head helmed and crowned with its unseen eyes. Frodo waited, like a bird at the approaching of a snake, unable to move. As he waited, he felt more urgent than ever before, the command that he should put on the Ring. But great as the pressure was, he felt no inclination now to yield to it. He knew that the Ring would only betray him, and that he had not, even if he put it on, the power to face the Morgul-King - not yet. There was no longer any answer to that command in his own will, dismayed by terror though it was, and he felt only the beating upon him of a great power from outside. It took his hand, and as Frodo watched with his mind, not willing it but in suspense (as if he looked in some old story far away),it moved the hand inch by inch toward the chain on his neck. Then his own will stirred; slowly it forced the hand back and set it to another thing, a thing hidden near his breast. Cold and hard it seemed as his grip closed upon it: the phial of Galadriel, so long treasured, and almost forgotten till that hour. As he touched it, for a while, all thought of the Ring was banished from his mind. He sighed and bent his head.
At that moment, the Wraith-king turned and spurred his horse and rode across the bridge, and all his dark host followed him. Maybe the Elven hoods defied his unseen eyes, and the mind of his small enemy, being strengthened, had turned aside his thought. But he was in haste. Already the hour had struck, and at his great Master's bidding he must march to war into the west.
Soon he had passed like a shadow into a shadow, down the winding road, and behind him still the black ranks crossed the bridge. So great and army had never issued from that vale since the days of Isildur's might; no host so fell and strong in arms had yet assailed the fords of Anduin; and yet it was but one and not the greatest of the hosts that Mordor now sent forth.
Sausages.
I am a LoTR literature purist. Just don't ever get me started on the crimes included in the films.
However, if you can find them, there are some edits of the films that do undo a lot of those crimes and, I think, even someone who has never read or never intends to read the books would appreciate the more consistent narrative and character balance. JRR did know what he was doing and Peter Jackson didn't have to ruin it. I have watched those edits and I wouldn't have believed it was possible with just a few genius edits to make those films fairly representative of the books.
However, if you can find them, there are some edits of the films that do undo a lot of those crimes and, I think, even someone who has never read or never intends to read the books would appreciate the more consistent narrative and character balance. JRR did know what he was doing and Peter Jackson didn't have to ruin it. I have watched those edits and I wouldn't have believed it was possible with just a few genius edits to make those films fairly representative of the books.