#935, Friday, January 16, 2004

ARTS + FEATURES

'Rings' trilogy ends in triumph
By Kenneth Turan
LOS ANGELES TIMES
SPT

It took one ring to rule them all, and now there's one film to end it all,
to bring to a close the cinematic epic of our time, the one by which all
others will be judged. "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King" has
finally arrived.

Powerfully imagined two times over, first by the matchless fantasy mind of
J.R.R. Tolkien and then by the bravura filmmaking of director Peter Jackson
and a cast and crew that reached 2,400 souls, "The Return of the King" is a
fitting climax to a story about the quest to rescue the world from evil
that has had us profoundly in its grip from the start.

Like anything restlessly and eagerly anticipated, "Return" will inevitably
be quibbled with. At three hours and 20 minutes, it is both formidably long
and unsure where it ought to end. The film's critical human moments include
some of the strongest of the trilogy, but because "Return" by definition
has to showcase battles that will literally end all battles, the brevity of
those character beats at times threatens the critical human thread with
unraveling.

That doesn't happen, which is a tribute not only to this film but to the
deep emotional connection with its numerous characters we've stored up and
carry with us. In its belief that this story has meaning as well as
excitement, "Return," written by Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Jackson,
has made its made-up world as completely real on the psychological level as
its up-to-the-moment visual effects have on the physical.

Not only have we spent hour after involving hour with these characters, but
the actors who play them (and to whom they will likely be forever linked)
have put in so much time with them - literally years - that they've to an
unusual degree actually lived these parts.

To look at the faces of Elijah Wood as Frodo and Sean Astin as Sam, Ian
McKellen as Gandalf and Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn, is to see the signs of
triumphs and disappointments that only the genuine passage of time can
create. As Jackson himself has said, "the moment you film a close-up of Ian
McKellen, you don't want to cut to a wide shot anymore because Ian is so
compelling."

While it can be easier to come up with a persuasive physical reality than a
psychological one, that shouldn't detract from how much success the "Rings"
team, led by production designer Grant Major and cinematographer Andrew
Lesnie, has had in doing so here. This film's crowning achievement is
white-stoned Minas Tirith, the kingdom of Gondor's seven-level city of
kings that, in a smooth combination of miniatures and built sets, looks
like a flabbergasting cross between an Italian hill town and a wedding cake.

Yet for all of this, it is as characteristic of "Return" as its
predecessors that some of its most memorable moments are its simplest. The
presenting of a newly forged sword to a key hero, the lighting of a series
of signal fires to warn the neighboring kingdom of Rohan that Gondor is
under attack, are successful precisely because they bring a kind of magical
directness to the proceedings.

Similarly, "Return" begins with a scene of two young men fishing that is
almost deceptive in its artlessness. For one of the men is Smeagol, and
this flashback to how he comes to possess the ring and how that object's
corrosive power gradually devolves him into the sniveling Gollum is a
timely reminder of the ring's ability to bend the minds of every creature.

More than the previous films, "Return of the King" has a sinister end of
days feeling about it, a doomsday sensibility as the very skies seem to
darken and it becomes clear that the climactic battle between the forces of
good and the Dark Lord Sauron, he of the fiery, all-seeing eye, is only a
matter of time.

As Gandalf, that master of the epigram, puts it, "things are now in motion
that cannot be undone."

The best hope of a positive outcome - the quest of the hobbits Frodo and
Sam to destroy the malevolent ring in the fires of Mount Doom - is, the
wizard is forced to admit, "just a fool's hope."

Even Gandalf doesn't really know what we soon find out: Things are going
badly for this duo and their treacherous guide Gollum, a creature
schizophrenically divided between his desire to do good and his
pathological desire to possess the ring once again. Frodo, his mind
weakened by the weight of carrying the ring, is increasingly not himself
and prey to Gollum' s insidious, Iago-like posturings. Thanks to the input
of Andy Serkis, the creature lives up to the director's claim that he's
"probably the most actor-driven digital creature that has ever been used in
a film."

One of the most satisfying aspects of "Return" is that some of the actors
we've seen the most of do especially well here. McKellen makes the most of
Gandalf's moments, Viggo Mortensen increasingly becomes the epitome of
heroic grace, and Astin brings the kind of dignity and quiet strength to
Sam increasingly called for by the role.

With so many involving things on offer, it's understandable that although
"Return" opts to do without the book's closing section detailing battles
around the Shire, it still extends longer than it should. For filmmakers
and viewers alike, a world this vivid is next to impossible to leave. As a
model for how to bring substance, authenticity and insight to the biggest
of adventure yarns, this trilogy will not soon, if ever, find its equal.