Fantasy fen tend to be divided into two camps: those who love Tolkien and those who aren't able to trudge through his admittedly description-dense pages. Peter Jackson had the unenviable task of creating a movie trilogy that would satisfy the first group without alienating the second. To say he has succeeded admirably is an understatement.
The Fellowship of the Ring is a fantasy movie for those who never go to fantasy movies. It transcends genre by focusing on the characters and their relationships while still retaining the mystique of the magic that surrounds them. What is truly astounding, however, is that Mr. Jackson has also managed to preserve the pervasive sense of melancholy interwoven throughout all three books of The Lord of the Rings.
In my earlier articles, I reserved judgment on some of the casting, not because I doubted the talents of the chosen but because in at least one case -- the selection of Viggo Mortenson as Aragorn -- I questioned whether a man not yet thirty could carry off to the satisfaction of the fen the role of a man described as appearing to be in his forties. After watching him, however, I bow to the superior wisdom of Mr. Jackson and his casting director. Mr. Mortenson is a powerful actor able to convey the experience and nobility that are what truly characterize Aragorn.
As Frodo, Elijah Wood is, as always, superb. However, my favorite Hobbit has always been Sam Gamgee, and I was utterly delighted with Sean Astin's portrayal. His Samwise is every bit as stubbornly loyal and unapologetically dedicated to the safety of his "master" as Professor Tolkien made him.
As for the production itself, not only did those three hours pass effortlessly but I could have stayed for another three just for the pleasure of it. For the rest of the day, scenes and images would arise in my mind's eye bearing all the emotional impact they had when I saw them the first time. If there is such a thing, I had The Fellowship of the Ring withdrawal symptoms.
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