Something Positive I Learned from “The Lord of the Rings”

WHO SHOULD READ THIS: 1) people who love Lord of the Rings 2) people who hate Lord of the Rings but have seen them and 3) people who have no intention of watching Lord of the Rings and don’t care about being mildly confused.

WHO SHOULD NOT READ THIS: Anyone that intends to watch Lord of the Rings and doesn’t want to be spoiled.

In my previous blog post I made a statement regarding my retirement from film critiquing. This remains true. What I’ll be writing on this blog will instead be emotional, philosophical, spiritual, and every other -al reaction to a film. I might throw in some other experiences too, not just movies/TV/video games. Anytime I learn anything positive that I feel is worth sharing, I’ll write about it. The posts will largely feature films and TV, of course, because at their best they are the means by which some of the deepest thinkers of our generation communicate their experiences to us as viewers.

At no point will I be commenting on the quality of a film and if I do, please tell me. Seriously. Now then: this post is of course regarding what are possibly my favorite films of all time. The reason they’re my favorite is actually a good starting point for this blog: I have an emotional attachment to them. All accolades aside, my enjoyment of the films is largely related to the age I was when they were released (13–15). Nothing can ever replace the fandom I felt at those stages of my life and that’s the way I like it. That’s what makes them special. So instead of defending Return of the King’s 75 1/2 endings, here are some of the positive things I’ve learned from the series. I carry so many of these ideas with me and I hope at least a few other people do too.

“The Pity of Bilbo May Rule the Fate of Many”

It was the cast commentary that revealed this particular bit of profundity to me. Elijah Wood mentions that he likes how Frodo was saved not by one choice, but by the choices he had made along the way. After 3 films’ worth of Frodo journeying to destroy the Ring of Power, he decides that he wants to keep the Ring after all. All seems lost, until Gollum (whose obsession with the Ring was far greater) wrestles the ring away from him and plunges into the fires of Mount Doom with his “precious.” On its surface, this may seem like canned drama that’s intended to extend the suspense of the sequence. But it’s a far more applicable and amazing thing than that.

Frodo carried that Ring through many hardships and it deteriorated him slowly over time. He resisted the Ring’s power for far longer than any other character could have, but at the very end he gave in to its influence. If our lives were like this, if one mistake could tank us for good, then we’d all fall into the metaphorical fires of Mount Doom. Unfortunately, sometimes singular choices are made that can have catastrophic consequences in our lives. However, most of the choices that we torture ourselves over are the ones just bad enough to remember: yelling at a spouse/friend, giving in to an addiction, etc. Possibly even more damaging are the choices we hold against others. We start to see them for what we deem to be their poor choices instead of seeing the totality of their choices.

This is where Frodo’s journey is so powerful to me. His uncle, Bilbo, hadn’t killed Gollum because he felt sorry for the pathetic creature. Frodo had also spared Gollum’s life because he thought that if he reached out to him in kindness, they could work together. Through a series of events beyond their control (as often happens in life) they are at odds with each other and end up fighting over the Ring. But because Frodo had reached out in kindness and because Bilbo had utilized mercy: Gollum, a character who only cared for himself, died in a Baggins’ place instead of at a Baggins’ hand.

In viewing our own lives, or the lives of others, we should view totality instead outlier moments. For 99% of the running time of 3 long movies, Frodo carried a burden far more effectively than you or I would. Are we to judge him for one moment of failure? We may not all carry something so catastrophic as WMD jewelry, but we all bear burdens. And those burdens cause us to stumble and fall on occasion. But what often saves us are the good choices we made along the way: friends like Samwise that we make who are there for us when we need them. Trouble isn’t the only thing that comes around, charity does too. Even people like Gollum who end up being our enemies, sometimes help us when we show them kindness. Perhaps if more characters in the world of Middle Earth had treated Gollum the way Frodo did, he wouldn’t have been such an enemy.

“Put Aside the Ranger, Become Who You Were Born to Be”

One of the most important arcs of the trilogy is Aragorn transforming from a rogue-ish loner into the King who unites all of humanity. The change is gradual, but in the end: Aragorn became who he always was. Some might ask, who wouldn’t want to be King?

To counter that, I direct you to the words of Coldplay: “Just a puppet on a lonely string, oh who would ever want to be King?” Being a leader is a burden. It doesn’t matter if you’re the President of the United States or the night manager at a McDonald’s in Podunk, Indiana. Being in a position to lead others by example is daunting to say the least. But some people just have leadership within them, whether they like it or not. It’s a talent, of sorts, in the sense that talents are usually things we have from birth but require honing.

In fact, all talents can be good or bad. Aragorn let his fear of the “failure that flowed in his veins” force him to run away and shirk all responsibility. Better to ignore one’s duties than to fail at completing them.

Whether a talent or a responsibility is a gift or a curse often depends on the viewpoint of the involved person. My late grandmother used to work extremely hard at preparing meals for us when we visited and had done the same for most of her life with regards to her immediate family. She was an amazing cook. Breakfast, dinner, dessert, heck: she even brewed coffee better than anyone else I’ve ever met. She would have been justified in considering her talent to be a curse on some days. Our visits would mean hours of working in the hot kitchen, tons of prep time/shopping, and serving as her own harshest critic. But that was never the vibe I got from her. She was overjoyed to see how much we loved her cooking and how we’d beg her for as many leftovers as we could carry back to Maryland. The smile on her face was proof that she looked at what many would consider a burden as an opportunity to bring joy to those she loved.

I myself, to the surprise of no one, have the gift of communication. I often utilize this gift far more frequently and loudly than many of my friends and co-workers would prefer, but that’s not what burdens me. I often have random people chat me up out of nowhere. Friends come to me for advice a lot. Even my family sometimes relies on me to be a diplomatic presence. At a certain point in my life, I felt the weight of these responsibilities. I started to hyperbolically view myself as a bit like Atlas, holding up the world but with no support of his own.

In recent months, I’ve realized that being able to communicate with people is only a burden if you make it one. Sometimes random people on the street just need someone to talk to. It’s a blessing to be able to speak with them comfortably and immediately form a rapport. It’s a blessing to help my friends/family and know that they can rely on me. If I’m discouraged, I can always encourage others. If I’m sad, I can always try to bring happiness to someone else. It’s tough to do those things for others if they don’t feel like talking to you. So the burden is gone and Atlas is just a story. I don’t have a replacement story because not everything needs a metaphor.

“How About Side by Side with a Friend?”

There are many powerful themes throughout this trilogy of films: the reclamation of nature over technology, faith winning out over despair, and all forms of love strengthening the connections between the main characters and carrying them to victory.

My favorite of these loving relationships is perhaps the most simplistic one: the blossoming friendship of Legolas and Gimli. Obviously, Frodo and Sam have the greatest bromance of all time. But they were always friends. Not only did Legolas and Gimli dislike each other personally at first, their species had an entire shared mutual dislike for generations.

This dislike eventually becomes friendly competition: wherein they compare kill counts of their orc enemies. They’re still adversarial on some level but they’re on the same team and share a mutual respect. Then the big moment comes when they are unsure if they will survive the final battle:

“I never thought I’d die side by side with an elf!”

“Well what about side by side with a friend?”

“(Pause) Aye, I could do that.”

When all seems lost, the two former enemies concede that they care for each other. You may call this cheesy but I find that most things we label as cheesy are often profound. Perhaps some of us just aren’t ready to live our lives in a way where cheesy sentiments are accepted. I once lived in a bitter world such as that, and to that world I shall never return.

The key point in this relationship is that there’s no specific thing that makes them care about each other. I love that! Neither took an arrow for the other or risked their life for the other or even shared food with the other as far as we know. They never had a heart-to-heart conversation. They never bonded over a shared affinity (aside from orc killin’).

All they had to do was spend time with each other. All it took was sharing an experience. Instead of seeing each other as a money-grubbing dwarf and a stuck-up prideful elf, they saw each other as individuals.

Though there are unfortunately many areas of our country and our world that discriminate based on gender, skin color, sexual orientation, etc., many of our prejudices are more simple than that. I have often judged others based on the way they speak, or their interests, or their vocations. And yet, when I spend time with them: those prejudices melt away. There are bad people in the world but most people are just stumbling along the same as me and you, trying their best with the situation they’re given. Only when we open ourselves up to spending time with them are we able to see them for their qualities and not their on-paper attributes.

“When the Sun Shines It’ll Shine out the Clearer”

I will close here on my favorite quote from the whole trilogy because it speaks for itself. “In the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass.” These are words of wisdom that are simple to comprehend and difficult to apply. Whenever something is bothering me deeply, I remember that it will never bother me as much as it is in that initial moment. Not if I don’t let it.

I felt this was the perfect sentiment to end this post on, because it exemplifies why I find movies so powerful. We’re so often moved by what we see and hear and then go about our lives as usual. But I encourage you to look deeper than that. To remember that the people writing these uplifting messages into films are doing so for a reason. And the negative ones are being written by people as lost as you feel on occasion, not by an omniscient being. If the positive message that you watch/read/hear touches you in some profound way, then hold onto that. Don’t dwell on the shadow, on the dark choices. That’s the way of Gollum, who chose obsession over progression.

If you don’t have a Samwise, then maybe you can be Samwise to someone else. Everyone makes bad choices from time to time but they only keep you down if you neglect the good choices you’ve made. And not everyone is meant to be a leader, but Aragorn understood that “even the smallest person can change the course of the future” when he led his kingdom to bow to the Hobbits: the smallest in stature and biggest in courage.

A King is a political figure. A leader is anyone who helps others and encourages them to be the best versions of themselves.