Showing posts with label Jackson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jackson. Show all posts

Saturday, July 19, 2008

"The beacons are lit!"

Now all roads were running together to the East to meet the coming of war and the onset of the Shadow.
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
"The beacons are lit! The beacons of Minas Tirith! Gondor calls for aid!"

Aragorn son of Arathorn stands panting as Théoden and his council look up to hear his news. There is a brief pause - what will Théoden King do? Will he honour his people's commitment, to fight and die in battle for allies who are distant both in miles and in friendship? A pause, and then:

"And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim!"

To purists, Peter Jackson's version of The Lord of the Rings is full of omissions and changes, most of which - to purists - are considered to be for the worse. For myself, I consider Jackson's work to be a brilliant attempt to adapt the unadaptable, and as such his compromises with the original material are made in the best interests of his vision of the work. Whatever your opinion, it's hard to deny that Jackson took the best swing at the ball that he possibly could, and the results have a visual impact that is undeniable.

In the original text, the lighting of the beacons and the summoning of allies to Minas Tirith as the hand of Sauron begins to close upon it is a relatively minor event, accompanied by foreshadowing comments about Denethor's ability to "read somewhat of the future" and "at times search even the mind of the Enemy".

 
 

In the movie version, Gandalf arranges for the beacons to be lit through trickery, and we see a long line of flickering signals, bursting into flame one after another, marching across the mountains to Rohan where Aragorn sits. The speed and immediacy with which the beacons light is obviously a narrative tool, allowing a quick transition from Minas Tirith to Rohan.

But imagine for a moment the realities of such a situation. Imagine the watch at the beacons, men who have been all but exiled to mountain peaks hundreds of miles from their homes, doomed to know nothing of the events that have prompted the lighting of the message fires. Freezing, probably close to starvation on whatever meagre rations have been transported to their posts on the peaks of the mountains, sentenced to an unknown period of sentry-go, and yet, when the moment arrives, remaining faithful and vigilant, acting almost instantly to perform their duty and initiate a war which will be resolved for good or ill long before they would be able to busk themselves and make their long weary way to the field of battle.

And when all is said and done, one can only wonder if such men would be honoured or forgotten.
- Sid