The Griffin or the Agate

So just whom exactly am I writing this review for? If you're a fan, even just a teeny-weeny little bit of a fan, you've already seen The Two Towers at least once. If you're not a fan at all, or if your one of those people like my mother who wander around saying, "Why would I want to go see all that weird crap?" then you're not going to spend the bucks to catch it in the theater. Perhaps I'm just writing it to amuse myself. Or to fill up space because I have nothing else to review right now (he said, choosing not to look over his shoulder at the stack of books waiting for his perusal and/or dispersion to the other reviewers.)
In any case, The Two Towers exceeded lofty expectations. How good was it? I just happen to have right here, at my disposal, a fine way to illustrate the film's quality. I attended a noontime showing on Christmas Eve day (yeah, so, it's taken me a while to get around to this. You want speedier reviews, you come hang my crown moldings), figuring the theater would be relatively empty. Wrong assumption. As the place began to fill with scores of families, their little children clutching super-sized Cokes and Sour Patch Kids, I dropped my head into my hands and rubbed at my brow. I figured fifteen, maybe twenty minutes in kids would be tearing up and down the aisles, turning around in their seats, asking in a very loud voice "DADDY, WHY DOES THE LADY WITH THE HORSEY-FACE HAVE POINTY EARS? HUH? HUH?" and, of course, kicking in with the crying. The other night I watched a young couple walk into a 10:30 pm showing of an R-rated movie with a seven-year-old. They were content to let the kid yowl until someone started pelting them with Dots, after which Daddy, with theatrical sighs, took the kid into the hallway. Hooray for proper parenting.
Anyway, my snotty premonitions were proved to be groundless. For three hours I didn't hear so much as a peep out of any of the rugrats beyond the oohs and ahs that were elicited by the film. The Two Towers held a horde of children in utter thrall for over three hours. What better case could I pitch than that? Indeed it is a good flick, a very damn good one, with Jackson doing a masterful job of bringing Tolkien's somewhat stolid prose to glorious life. Don't start on me, Tolkienites or whatever you want to call yourselves. The man had incredible vision, created amazing worlds and races, but as a writer he was fairly clunky. Perhaps most impressive is the humanization of Gollum, a CGI-human hybrid with moon eyes and multiple personality disorder. What, Middle Earth didn't have shrinks? The film tracks the three very separate storylines - Frodo, Samwise and Gollum journeying to Mount Doom; Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli getting caught up in all sorts of excitement; and Merry and Pippin hanging out with some heavy lumber. The Battle at Helm's Deep is stunning, a CGI masterpiece that seethes and rolls. The film is, well, it's just good, that's the best way to say it, I suppose. Between the films of this soon-to-be-completed trilogy (and how much do you love Jackson now for shooting them all at once so you can have one a year?) and those of Harry Potter we can proclaim ourselves fantasy fans without having to face snickers and "you mean, like, sexual fantasies?" Go ahead. Get on line now for The Return of the King. December's not that far away. §

Official Movie Site