I just saw Peter Jackson's movie "The Two Towers" (part two of his Lord of the Rings trilogy) and it is spectacular. I promised myself not to go into a total rave, but I have to say this is one of the best films I've seen. It's definitely not just for fantasy freaks, but at the same time it's everything we Tolkien-fans have always imagined and hoped for. But enough unqualified, unexplained praise. Some jumbled thoughts on the movie, from whatever I remember...
Walter's writeup is a pretty comprehensive run-through of the plot, as featured on the film (with the main differences pointed out). There are many omissions (I'd have loved to see more of the ents, and Saruman's dramatic transformation was all through right near the start of The Fellowship of the Ring). There are also one or two scenes added for "romantic interest" (but, hey, they work), or for colour (e.g. the Rohan village set upon by Saruman's wild men). To his credit though, Jackson knows good writing when he sees it, and sticks to it, rather than trying to outshine it. Most of the departures from the original make a lot of sense, when you're trying to fit the entire trilogy into a measly 9-10 hours; a few have to do with the different inter-cutting of separate strands of the tale, which actually pushes some material from one part (movie) to another. A whole lot of dialogue rang true to me; I haven't reread LOTR recently, but plenty of dialogue is either taken exactly from the book, or very lightly adapted. By the way, there's a fair bit of "foreign" (e.g. Elvish) dialogue, and it sounds just right! (My Elvish is rusty, but the subtitles help.)
But if it were just an opportunity to sprout Tolkienesque dialogue, 2T wouldn't be much of a movie (where's the added value?). Jackson goes beyond the cinematographic basis laid down in FotR, leaping across distance, time, and points of view to tell several simultaneous, interwoven stories: the epic story of Rohan's war, the adventure of Frodo's journey, the psychological merry-go-round of Gollum/Smeagol's conflict, Pippin and Merry's flight, and so on.
Masterful camerawork is the first tool in unifying these themes; the viewpoint soars away from the characters to take in the spectacular landscapes (sometimes smoothly pointing out the locale of other goings-on), or tracks the heroes from an intimate proximity. A long part right at the start is where Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are tracking the Uruk-hai who've taken Merry and Pippin. It's one long chase, and you'd think except for the flashing lights, it should turn out like any other cop-chases-robber scene (but looonger). But somehow it doesn't, perhaps because of the way the viewpoint sometimes jogs after the trio, and sometimes ahead, and even falls back a little to make fun of Gimli, when he can't keep up and has to make excuses. But the camera also pulls back seamlessly (cutlessly?) from the loping band, rising above the ground to give us the geographical context of their pursuit, and enabling the spectator to transfer his attention smoothly to the orcs force-marching just ahead. Or -- another way this transition is achieved -- our view cuts swiftly from the tracker to the tracked and back again, as Aragorn follows the tracks and traces of the hobbits' struggle and ultimate escape. With Frodo, the camera plays a whole other game: Frodo and Sam each get their own viewpoint, often crawling along the ground by them, stopping and starting and jumping right with them, or simply seeing what they see; and Gollum gets his camera-view too, best described as slithering, which masterfully bifurcates at the critical schizophrenic struggle between an endearing camera angle for obedient, friendly Smeagol, and a villain's closeup for treacherous Ring-obsessed Gollum.
Much of Tolkien's greatness lies in the individual story he tells for (almost) every single character, as well as the epic, "historic" tale; Jackson translates this individuality (with the help of some very fine acting) into a unique feel and texture for the coverage of every persona. Gimli's stoutness and (compensating?) competitiveness are poked gentle fun at, sometimes simply by the suggestion that we are eavesdropping on his silly excuses for poor horsemanship and slow pace, or on his kill-count, motivated mostly by an attempt to outshine Legolas. Aragorn is treated with the respect due to kings (well, you know...), and even the spectator is kept at a decent distance. We observe Aragorn from a distance, from behind, from the ranks, from inside Meduseld when he makes his dramatic entrance. The few intimate moments are mostly either from another person's point of view (notably Eowyn), or a treasured (flashback) glimpse of his parting with equally-noble Arwen. Gollum, probably at the other end of the dignity scale, narrates his own story (as he argues with himself the merits of obedience and friendship), and very nearly has his own movie (two movies?), intercut with the rest of the 2T events. The Smeagol-point-of-view scenes almost make you pity (and like?) the littler critter, whereas one or two of Sam's warnings (or of Gollum's secret outbursts) are enough to make you shiver and wish they'd do away with him already.
The computerised effects are sensational, but they also present a refreshing change: the effects serve the telling of the tale, rather than vice versa. Jackson does not display his best effects (like some Hollywood makers I could mention) to say "look how clever we are", or "see how big my SGI is". Rather, he has a story to tell, and a very clear image to create, and all else is subordinated to this cause. Perhaps working from a classic made it easier to keep this goal in mind. An amazing process conjured up a truly believable Gollum (computer graphics laid over the image of a specially-suited actor), but the result is muted, not overdone. Even the magic we see is mostly low on special effects (which is what makes it really powerful, isn't it?) and sometimes seems to be just an extension of standard combat choreography. The various monsters are beautifully (horrifically) detailed, and for once I can't say their realisation is understated. But the details are still there to serve a purpose. The Nazgul's steed is plain terrifying, and seeing the Uruk-hai roll off Saruman's assembly-line, all covered in congealed slime, gives you just the right feel about Isengard's new "Industrial Complex". And, of course, some special effects are just there to make the whole "fantasy thing" roll smoothly along: the Ents are wonderful (but why so much smaller than the trees?), and the wargs, apparently entirely digital but very real and fierce-looking, seem poised to leave the screen and extend the carnage to the rest of the cinema. The creators apparently constructed complete cities -- towns, to be honest -- "on location" (such as Edoras), and fortifications (especially Helm's Deep, which was built on set and in miniature. Yet the filmmakers never went overboard: the "cities" aren't huge and sprawling, or incredibly complex, but rather match Tolkien's modest scale (where a force a thousand strong is considered huge). (Frankly, I couldn't believe they'd built all that; I thought it must all be brilliant computer graphics, but Avalyn set me straight.)
Of course, 2T is an adventure. Other things, too, but first and foremost an adventure. All of the trilogy is, naturally, but 2T is composed chiefly of two of the most typical adventure schemes: Chase, and Battle. Tolkien's take on epic adventure seems to be that the individual heroes always shine through the fray and fracas. The chase is heroic, and the individual heroes stand out easily; the great battle is epic, and is depicted, or choreographed, as such. The battle is huge, and the whirling action everywhere must have had the entire cinema on the edges of their seats. But at the same time, ingeniously, we glimpse our individual heroes again and again, even hearing them above the din of war. Aragorn is a vital focus of attention, as is -- of course -- Gandalf, when he reappears in the nick of time. When Eomer waved his fist and shouted "Forward Eorlingas", ready to lead the returning Riders of Rohan to succor his beleaguered king and countrymen, two guys sitting in front of me actually returned the salute. As for Frodo, the unlikeliest and most important of the lot, his heroism is delightfully understated. He comes across as a mild, thoughtful, rather naive lad; yet our occasional direct experience of his darkening inner world (the nightmare right at the start, the repeating Ring-craving, the closer and closer Nazgul encounters) portray his real burden as an almost completely internal matter.
When all's said and done, what it boils down to is this. 2T is a great classic, faithfully converted to film, with the important goal of telling a good story. The technique (of actors, editors, SFX, director) is good, because they're all superior craftsmen, but also because the technique is made to serve this goal. The idea of finding an interesting, exciting plot, and giving it cinematic substance, is sadly a rare one nowadays, which fact has led many critics and commentators to explain LotR's popularity as an artefact of current events (notably the War on Terror) or a new consumerist escapism, or whatever. But the true appeal to longtime Tolkien fans and non-fans is the simple, true thrill of a good yarn.
I can't wait for RotK.