Raoul
01-12-2004, 12:26 AM
Lord Of The Rings, Return of the King@ Silvercity Richmond
by Raoul
“…Only in the fiery depths of Mordor can the Ring be destroyed…”
The voiceover at the beginning of the first movie was the foundation for my generation’s greatest on-screen epic. From the moment the lights went down and the action started to build, me and the rest of the television generation found ourselves hooked like ill fated catfish on a living, full motion version of the greatest story ever written. The action builds and spirals in neat little peaks throughout the entire trilogy, keeping the audience desperate and hungry for the next chapter at every turn. I’ve deep professional respect for the team of screenwriters who have created nearly 9 hours worth of film that can rivet a generation of over sugared attention deficit cases to their seats and keep them coming back for more. I’m sure that they in turn would give a nod to Tolkien, the original master of the piece – but the work of proper adaptation is delicate business, and they’ve done well.
The first two movies had me mesmerized. The aforementioned opening sequence provided enticing exposition and eerie foreshadowing that stuck with me and kept re-occurring in my mind as the plot developed.
The cheese factor in the dialogue was high, but I’m able to chalk that up to being true to the book’s form. I guess people spoke like that in middle earth. It added to the feel of the hobbit characters to have them speak with soap opera style over-dramatization at times. The high point of the dialogue had to be the Gollum character, especially his schizophrenic discourse with himself. He is a testament to the talent of both the writers, the director and the animators. I’ve never seen an on screen animated character that well done. Nothing has instilled that kind of disturbing feeling in me since that Mystery Guy that Robert Blake played in the Lost Highway. Gollum is multi dimensional; despite the fear and loathing that I had for him, especially initially, I learned to pity him. After all, he’s just a hopeless junkie – doomed by fate.
So, after being glued to my chair with wide eyes by six hours of the best buildup in cinematic history, I lined up at Silver City Metropolis in Richmond for the final, climactic movie. No, my friends, it didn’t disappoint. The proverbial whipped cream and cherry on this monolith of a sundae delivered everything that I had come to expect. With the exception of one major plot hole that I care not to discuss, the script was beautiful. A rollercoaster ride of epic proportions as we follow a brave army, constantly getting into fights that they have no chance of winning on paper and surprising everyone. I’ve always liked the underdog. The two pre battle rallying speeches given by the Kings are unforgettable, the types of things that cinematic history is made of.
After that experience, I think that this child of the Attention Deficit generation might prefer horse chases to car chases on screen. I suppose a congratulation to the animal handlers is in order.
The plotline with the most gravity in Middle Earth is the final leg of the journey of three Halflings against all odds to save the world from evil itself. The drama between Sam, Frodo and Gollum is incredibly gripping and flows at the perfect rate. The conflict within the group exposes itself beautifully as deeply disturbing Gollum is violently hated by a heroically vigilant Sam Weiss Ganges and sympathized with by a distressed Frodo Baggins who understands the burden of carrying the preshissssssssss. People write textbooks about that kind of dynamic.
A packed house at Silver City Metropolis in Richmond was nearly out of their seats with their mouths hanging wide open as Frodo, at the edge of a rocky outcropping inside the tower of Sauron held The Ring – the mighty, mysteriously tantalizing Ring of Power – over the fires of Mordor, the only place where it could be destroyed. He struggled with his inner conflict over destroying that which had grown to become a vital part of him – The defining moment in the trilogy and a fine moment in acting. Members of the Academy were taking careful notes. I had lost all interest in my popcorn. The entire cinema was aghast with anticipation as the drama unfolded with digital clarity in crystal clear, eight channel digital sound.
Then, the screen went blank. The speakers were silent.
At first, I didn’t quite know what to think. Was this an avant guard film making technique by blockbuster director Peter Jackson? Had Frodo’s indecision doomed Middle Earth to perpetual darkness? No. The lights in the theatre came on. A perplexed Richmond crowd looked at each other and wondered. The projectionist’s booth was a flurry of activity.
This reporter was livid. I leapt out of my seat and my popcorn went flying everywhere. Did the projection man pick that moment to join the Ferry workers in a show of solidarity? Were the dark forces of Sauron at work in Silver City, ensuring that the ring never be destroyed and evil live on in our minds and spirits, forever lurking in the shadows?
Despite a lengthy, noisy diatribe and my best efforts to insight a riot, the Richmond Crowd remained docile although perturbed. It’s a good thing it hadn’t happened at the Colossus in Langley. Those Rednecks from The Valley would have had that screen shredded to ribbons in less time than it takes to run your average drag race.
The unexpected intermission lasted about three minutes, then the movie finished in its entirety. Nonetheless, the experience was ruined. Nine hours of film over three years to have the major climax interrupted by technical difficulties. Silver City owes me some answers.
by Raoul
“…Only in the fiery depths of Mordor can the Ring be destroyed…”
The voiceover at the beginning of the first movie was the foundation for my generation’s greatest on-screen epic. From the moment the lights went down and the action started to build, me and the rest of the television generation found ourselves hooked like ill fated catfish on a living, full motion version of the greatest story ever written. The action builds and spirals in neat little peaks throughout the entire trilogy, keeping the audience desperate and hungry for the next chapter at every turn. I’ve deep professional respect for the team of screenwriters who have created nearly 9 hours worth of film that can rivet a generation of over sugared attention deficit cases to their seats and keep them coming back for more. I’m sure that they in turn would give a nod to Tolkien, the original master of the piece – but the work of proper adaptation is delicate business, and they’ve done well.
The first two movies had me mesmerized. The aforementioned opening sequence provided enticing exposition and eerie foreshadowing that stuck with me and kept re-occurring in my mind as the plot developed.
The cheese factor in the dialogue was high, but I’m able to chalk that up to being true to the book’s form. I guess people spoke like that in middle earth. It added to the feel of the hobbit characters to have them speak with soap opera style over-dramatization at times. The high point of the dialogue had to be the Gollum character, especially his schizophrenic discourse with himself. He is a testament to the talent of both the writers, the director and the animators. I’ve never seen an on screen animated character that well done. Nothing has instilled that kind of disturbing feeling in me since that Mystery Guy that Robert Blake played in the Lost Highway. Gollum is multi dimensional; despite the fear and loathing that I had for him, especially initially, I learned to pity him. After all, he’s just a hopeless junkie – doomed by fate.
So, after being glued to my chair with wide eyes by six hours of the best buildup in cinematic history, I lined up at Silver City Metropolis in Richmond for the final, climactic movie. No, my friends, it didn’t disappoint. The proverbial whipped cream and cherry on this monolith of a sundae delivered everything that I had come to expect. With the exception of one major plot hole that I care not to discuss, the script was beautiful. A rollercoaster ride of epic proportions as we follow a brave army, constantly getting into fights that they have no chance of winning on paper and surprising everyone. I’ve always liked the underdog. The two pre battle rallying speeches given by the Kings are unforgettable, the types of things that cinematic history is made of.
After that experience, I think that this child of the Attention Deficit generation might prefer horse chases to car chases on screen. I suppose a congratulation to the animal handlers is in order.
The plotline with the most gravity in Middle Earth is the final leg of the journey of three Halflings against all odds to save the world from evil itself. The drama between Sam, Frodo and Gollum is incredibly gripping and flows at the perfect rate. The conflict within the group exposes itself beautifully as deeply disturbing Gollum is violently hated by a heroically vigilant Sam Weiss Ganges and sympathized with by a distressed Frodo Baggins who understands the burden of carrying the preshissssssssss. People write textbooks about that kind of dynamic.
A packed house at Silver City Metropolis in Richmond was nearly out of their seats with their mouths hanging wide open as Frodo, at the edge of a rocky outcropping inside the tower of Sauron held The Ring – the mighty, mysteriously tantalizing Ring of Power – over the fires of Mordor, the only place where it could be destroyed. He struggled with his inner conflict over destroying that which had grown to become a vital part of him – The defining moment in the trilogy and a fine moment in acting. Members of the Academy were taking careful notes. I had lost all interest in my popcorn. The entire cinema was aghast with anticipation as the drama unfolded with digital clarity in crystal clear, eight channel digital sound.
Then, the screen went blank. The speakers were silent.
At first, I didn’t quite know what to think. Was this an avant guard film making technique by blockbuster director Peter Jackson? Had Frodo’s indecision doomed Middle Earth to perpetual darkness? No. The lights in the theatre came on. A perplexed Richmond crowd looked at each other and wondered. The projectionist’s booth was a flurry of activity.
This reporter was livid. I leapt out of my seat and my popcorn went flying everywhere. Did the projection man pick that moment to join the Ferry workers in a show of solidarity? Were the dark forces of Sauron at work in Silver City, ensuring that the ring never be destroyed and evil live on in our minds and spirits, forever lurking in the shadows?
Despite a lengthy, noisy diatribe and my best efforts to insight a riot, the Richmond Crowd remained docile although perturbed. It’s a good thing it hadn’t happened at the Colossus in Langley. Those Rednecks from The Valley would have had that screen shredded to ribbons in less time than it takes to run your average drag race.
The unexpected intermission lasted about three minutes, then the movie finished in its entirety. Nonetheless, the experience was ruined. Nine hours of film over three years to have the major climax interrupted by technical difficulties. Silver City owes me some answers.