2001, Polo movies, a love grew. ‘The Rings of Power’ now holds my Tolkien-nerd heart
What’s a movie memory in your life? One that transports you back to the theater, the exact seat you were in, when you watched it? That rekindles the emotion that shot through you at the precise moment you saw a specific scene on the big screen?
One of my movie memories, probably the deepest ingrained, is watching the end of “The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings” in 2001. That’s the first of the trilogy.
I’m at the Movies at Polo, better known as Polo movies, in northeast Columbia with my best friend and his dad. We’re three rows from the back near the stairs. On the screen, two little guys, Frodo and Sam, are standing on a cliff looking toward a red horizon broken by an impenetrable wall of jagged mountains. They’re going in that direction, toward doom or victory. They’re going to take on a great evil. I believe they’ll prevail, but at what cost? I want to see and feel them overcome the darkness. I’m consumed by anticipation for their next steps. They will beat the bad guy in this movie.
The credits roll. I’m shocked and horrified. I’m left with a feeling of disappointment and betrayal by these moviemakers matched only by wonder and thrill for the next film. I have never wanted to see a sequel this much in my life. I am enamored with the possibilities of this new world I now know as Middle Earth.
At 13 years old, I had some vague knowledge of J. R. R. Tolkien’s books. I had read “The Hobbit” for a class at Summit Parkway Middle School, mostly writing it off as a school assignment I didn’t care to do. It was a respite from the agonies of learning when the teacher played the Rankin/Bass animated film in class.
Since “The Fellowship of the Rings” film came out, I’ve watched the trio probably more than two dozen times. I’ve read “The Hobbit” three times and “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy twice. I can proudly say that last year I finished Tolkien’s posthumously published epic “The Silmarillion” and understood most of it. “The Silmarillion” is the barricade that blocks casual Tolkien fans from breaking through and becoming deep fans. It’s a dense book that’s more like medieval literature than a modern novel. But I broke through, and now I regularly watch YouTube channels and listen to podcasts with names like “Nerd of the Rings” and “The Silm Film Project.”
I was transported back to the thrill of the theater at the end of Fellowship last week while awaiting the debut of “The Rings of Power,” Amazon’s show adaptation of parts of Tolkien’s work. It has made headlines over the last year for being the most expensive show ever made at about $1 billion and drawing parallels and contrasts in possibilities to HBO’s “Game of Thrones.”
I celebrated the release of “The Rings of Power” with a large pizza and drank Coca-Cola like a neglected 8-year-old finally getting to have his birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. I’ve watched the two-episode debut of “The Rings of Power” three times, and if I get any more hyped for the next episode, my heart will explode.
I’m not sure that I want a complete answer, but I keep asking myself: “Why do I love this world Tolkien created so much? What grasp does it have on me?”
No doubt nostalgia is tied up in my affinity for Middle Earth. The Rings film trilogy came out at just the right time to creep into the developing folds of my brain and to forever be associated with specific emotions.
Middle Earth’s heroes and villains have been with me for 20 years now. They’re friends at this point. But more than friends, they’re characters I can strive to resemble.
I want to be Frodo or Sam or Aragorn, Gandolf, Pippin, Mary, Gimli, Eowyn, Galadriel or any of the heroes in Tolkien’s world. I want to slay Orcs, fight Ring Wraiths, visit the elves of Rivendell, ride with the Rohirrim or shout from the walls of Gondor. I want look over a cliff and know that the road is perilous, my way forward narrow, but that I can overcome the evil forces in my path.
In a simpler sense, Middle Earth gives me somewhere to go when sitting on my couch is all I can afford.
As one quite famous Hobbit said, “It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.”
This story was originally published September 8, 2022 at 11:10 AM.