Johnny Simmons

I’m well aware that Tolkien’s masterpiece was one book in many parts, and not three books in parts. I’m well aware, too, that Jackson’s own masterpiece though released over three years was shot at once. Yet, I can’t put it as one film on my top 100. It feels like a disservice to the talent involved, even as I realise that by dividing it takes up 15% of my top 20. I’m fine with that, though. The three films may be created simultaneously, but they’re not created equal.

Incidentally, The Two Towers is my favourite section of the novel and it ends up being my least favourite part of the actual film. But, all things being relative, it’s still a magnificent film nonetheless. It is in this instalment that Viggo Mortenson gives us his greatest incarnation of Aragorn. In a way, The Lord of the Rings focuses on three men. The first is centres on Gandalf, the second on Aragorn and the third on Frodo (accompanied by Samwise). Thus, The Two Towers like its protagonist is a man, fallibly human. Mortenson followed up on Aragorn with three excellent introspective portrayals in Eastern Promises, The Road and A History of Violence. True, Aragorn is more like one of the kings of our imaginations than a flawed man but Mortenson does enough to make us believe in the imperfections of this king-to-be while assuring us that he is infallible. I’ll forever hold a soft spot for Arwen (the Jackson creation more than the Tolkien one) so I never do become as emotionally invested in the would-be romance between Aragorn and Eowyn even if Miranda Otto is turning out an excellent performance. Is it that Aragorn forgets about his elfin love…obviously, no. His biggest fault (if he has one) is actually his strength. Aragorn is intent on playing the hero – always. Naturally, he cannot be everyone’s hero; but it is his penchant to come to the rescue of those who need it that makes his rapport with Eowyn so true – something Otto and Mortenson play perfectly.

But it’s not about Aragorn alone. It’s in The Two Towers that I become altogether too fond of Boyd and [ ]. I’d choose this pair over Frodo and Sam, and not because they’re more fun. The two are so often forgotten even though both (particularly Boyd) turn in excellent performances. It’s more than acting childlike, there’s an unruly naïveté about them that is altogether too infectious to ignore and they pull it off with aplomb. Thus their capture by the Orcs and then by Treabeard plays out as more than just the comic relief that it could have been. Of course, I remember the middle for the return of Gandalf – no longer Grey, now white. I know he’s coming back, but still the revelation of his return always makes me gasp just a little. He’s still out acting everyone around him, even if the villainous Christopher Lee is giving him a run for his money. If The Fellowship depends more on story and the The Return of the King more on visuals then The Two Towers depends on the acting. Andy Serkis’ maddening Gollum is at his creepiest here and Brad Dourif’s take on Wormtongue is excellent, even if he’s forgotten in the wake of so many crazier villains. More mention should be made of Bernard Hill's King Theoden. Just like the revelation of Gandalf the White the moment where he casts off Wormtongue is excellently played and so alluring. He and McKellen play well off each other and we believe that this is a great man who still could have been duped by a scoundrel like Wormtongue.

        

I will admit there are times I forgot how great The Two Towers is until I actually see it. It’s waiting for the inevitable showdown that will occur in the finale, but it’s more than merely a bridge. It has significance in its own right. The Two Towers falls at #15 on my list of favourites, so that of course means that the other two instalments fall higher. What moments do you recall vividly in this, the middle child of the trilogy?

If I had labelled this list “the most iconic” performances of the last decade, there’s a possibility that this could have found its way at the very top. The word iconic is not one that I use lightly, but when a mere image – a stick, a beard, a horse can signify so much and when a believed character is so potently created on screen it can’t help but become iconic, and though he’s not at the very top on the list of my favourites – he’s close.

    

I never was one to lump all three Lord of the Rings films together. Still, it does have its benefits – I’m never certain where one begins and one ends and sometimes I end up choosing one or the other on the strength of the story (Tolkien’s) more than on the strength of Jackson’s filmmaking – which is consistently strong throughout. Even if I’m to judge McKellen’s Gandalf sometimes I wonder if his arguments with Worm Tongue (The Two Towers) or those with Ian Holm (The Return of the King) aren’t all equal, sometimes superiror to his work in the first instalment. It is a quandary; I’ll single out his work in The Fellowship as the key even if his work in the other two is in no way less.

The essence of Gandalf – Tolkien’s creation and McKellen’s incarnation – is his trustworthiness. How does one create someone so amicable, the youngest child would not hesitate to approach but formidable enough that the greatest entities would doubt (if only momentarily) before crossing. It’s a bit of an incongruity perhaps, but it’s one that is not apparent when McKellen is at the helm. One thing I constantly appreciate about his Gandalf throughout is his subtlety even while painting a character than exists in such broad strokes. It’s the eternal difficulty of creating such a character; Gandalf is the emblematic fatherly figure, the wise one but McKellen’s Gandalf is neither too wise nor too paternal. The moment where I always get drawn to his brilliance occurs when Bilbo shows him that fateful ring. One can almost hear the very words forming in his head – he’s shocked, confused, aroused, and anxious all at once and that brief, but significant burst of anger always surprises me. Gandalf is written in broad strokes, but McKellen doesn’t play him likewise.

              

He is consistent though. Each member of the fellowship, all at the Council of Elrond, even – know of the danger that lies ahead, but sometimes it seems Gandalf alone truly realises the gravity of the journey ahead, or perhaps its McKellen alone with so little screen-time signifies how worried he is. His simple act of closing his eyes as Frodo volunteers to be the ring bearer is possibly the most significant sigh of the film; in fact all the moments of extremely subtle facial acting can be accounted to McKellen. I always am impressed by his talent, even those moments that could become clichéd or cyclical are never thus with him: like his irritated look at Pippin when he wakes the Orcs in the cave (a look that is mirrored in The Return of the King with that ball…).

              

One thing that continues to puzzle me is Gandalf’s exit in The Fellowship of the Rings. His final line – fly you fools – more than being a significant line always piques my interest. Certainly, Gandalf is not immortal or omniscient – perhaps it’s that wry look on McKellen’s face as he delivers the line, but I always think that Gandalf knew he’d be getting out of that cave, by hook or by crook. It’s a question I can debate forever; it can’t be proved - for obvious reasons. Nevertheless, it’s these provocative moments that I return to each time I see The Fellowship. Only few actors could boast of such moments. Unlike the majority, when we return to McKellen’s performance new things arise each time. His Gandalf is not just a literary character, but an iconic person.