Recap of Ralph Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings

[LunarRaptor]

The Game Attempts-Part One

The film we will be covering was released 1978 and it covers roughly the first two-thirds of the book, in which the all of the events of The Fellowship of the Ring and part of The Two Towers are covered. The film ends immediately at the end of the Siege of Helm's Deep and before Frodo and Sam encounter Faramir or enter Shelob's Lair.
Before the film can be combed, the history behind its conception and Pre-Production must be covered. In the late 1950s, the Tolkien family had financial problems and the rights to make a movie out of the book were sold for a large sum.

It was around this time that Bakshi became acquainted with the work during his time at Terrytoons and thought it would make for an excellent animated TV series. However, the rights were out of his reach at the moment as others were trying to get a Lord of the Rings film off the ground at the moment. None of them ever left the planning stage of production (how fortunate or unfortunate is up to you) and the rights were eventually sold to United Artists Entertainment LCC. This task of making the film was handed over to Stanley Kubrick and John Boorman* to try to adapt it…as a single film…starring The Beatles as Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. This thankfully did not get made, either.

It was in the Mid-1970s, after Bakshi had achieved box office success that he approached the studio for the rights to make the film. He got them at the cost of $3 million. Bakshi's original proposition was to create a three-part animated adaptation, each film covering a volume. However, the deal was changed after one of the producers brought on board was fired. A new producer was brought in and had Bakshi redo the deal to two films.

During Pre-Production, the film was given a budget of $8 million (Boxofficemojo will say it's currently $4 million, but it keeps changing to be less and less. Take from that what you will.). Chris Conkling and book author Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn) were brought on board to write the screenplay, several college students (including a young Tim Burton) were hired on as animators, and Leonard Rosenman was hired to compose the music. Soon, with a limited budget, and a greatly condensed story, production was underway. The following is the result of Bakshi and company's attempt to adapt Tolkien's most beloved book. It ended up being two hours and eighteen minutes long and it covers all of The Fellowship of the Rings and the majority of The Two Towers.

Note: Bakshi actually met with Tolkien's sons and daughters to properly discuss how to make the film and promised them to stay as close to the films as possible. Keep this in mind at all times.

Originally, the entire film was supposed to be fully animated via rotoscoping. As explained before, rotoscoping is essentially Motion-Capture's traditional animation distant ancestor. Live-action actors and sequences are filmed then drawn over frame by frame. Due to limited budget, Bakshi soon ran out of money to make the film fully animated and made due with shooting the film at High Contrast to give it a more animated look. This was met with little success. The first signs of production decay are actually evident during the first scene of the film.

The opening scene is a narration about the history of the One Ring of Power. According to the film, the Rings of Power were first forged by elves and divided amongst the other races of Middle Earth. Then sometime afterwards the Dark Lord Sauron learned the secret of art of ring-making and made his own ring to conquer all the other rings. Within the first few minutes, it's shown that evidently reading the book and speaking with Tolkien's children is not enough to stay true to the book for Bakshi. This change has baffled several people who have seen it. Would it have taken longer to explain that Sauron, using trickery, fooled the elves into creating the Rings so that he could use the Master Ring to rule all the other ones? What was this change's purpose? Was it to make Sauron look pettier? Apparently, changing shape and tricking others into constructing the artifacts of their own doom just wasn't considered low enough.

Moving on, the opening scenes only get worse. The sequence is not animated. It is filmed behind a red window shade with live-action actors dressed in cheap costumes who perform like amateur stage actors with wooden swords throughout the scenes of the Ring making and battles. Stage lights shine behind the action so shadows on a red screen are all the audience can make out. If this was all it took to film an epic narrative, we'd all be doing it.

As for that battle scene, it appears as if about a dozen or so men are having a random fight somewhere, rather than the epic battle of The Last Alliance of men and elves that joined forces against Sauron. Which, according to the narration, by the way, "fell beneath [Sauron's] power". Also in this rendition, instead of facing Sauron head on and breaking his father's sword Narsil in the process of separating the Dark Lord from his Ring, Isildor is described as "a heroic shadow who slipped in" and cut the Ring from Sauron's hand while he wasn't looking. The action of this being done is even less impressive. The anonymous silhouette that was supposed to be Isildor weakly hits the other silhouette that was supposed to be Sauron with a sword that visibly wobbles while the latter clutches his hand as if his school teacher had just smacked his wrist with a ruler.
"Sauron Harold Darkside, have you been trying to conquer the world again?!"
"No, ma'am!"
Narsil, by the way, looks like it survived this, intact, yet is seen broken in later scenes. So, needless deviation number 3 in just three minutes.

Moving on, Sauron is so underplayed that he leaves no lasting impression. He's not intimidating or mysterious at all as portrayed in the books or the Jackson films. He's just some figure with a horned Viking helmet no more or less vague or mysterious than anyone else in this sequence. By the way, I think this is the very same helmet Boromir wears later.

As the rest of the narration continues on it is explained that because Isildor did not destroy the Ring, Sauron's spirit endeared and he went into hiding to recover his strength (though why it works this way is leftunexplained). Isildor was eventually ambushed by orcs near a river and the Ring lies forgotten and hidden there for two and a half thousand years.

The rest of the narration is word for word true to what happened in the books, though Gollum looks like the Grinch and sounds vaguely like Peter Ustinov for some reason.

After the opening narration, the audience is greeted with the first actual animation in the movie as of yet in the entire film, and it is actual animation.
For the next hour, the film actually follows the book reasonably well with a few noticeable discrepancies, which will be covered as they come along. For example, the filmmakers completely neglect to call Gandalf "Gandalf the Grey", and have him in bright blue. Also, the animation while present is hideous. The extra hobbits look like deformed garden gnomes, Frodo has an odd resemblance to Alvin the chipmunk with big 80s hair on his head, and Bilbo looks like he suffers from Down syndrome.

Cosmetics aside, the followings play out as they did in the books. Gandalf arrives in Hobbiton to celebrate the 111th Birthday of Bilbo, his old friend. Although it is greatly condensed, the filmmakers still managed to keep Bilbo's infamous speech and even manage a humorous moment with Mr. Proudfoot which would later be reflected in Jackson's take. However, as for the speech, instead of being played out endearingly and cleverly, it comes off drunken and almost incoherent. Bilbo tells the Hobbits at the party about how he "must" leave the Shire, though the audience is never told why. This gives one reason to surmise that Bakshi and company just assumed everyone who would see the film had already read the books AND had recently reread them or had a really good memory of everything that happens in the 1,000+ page book.

In the books, Bilbo's reasons for leaving the Shire were a combination of his adventurous side taking hold again and the Ring having an effect on him to try to use him to get back to its master. For the most part, though, his adventurous side is the main cause and he still succumbs to it when he leaves the Ring behind because of his growing boredom and weariness of the Shire via a "late"-life crisis ("I need a holiday, a long holiday…", Bilbo Baggins). He revisits the places of his younger days before settling down in Rivendell. All of this is completely left out in this film, leaving Bilbo without a real motive for doing any of the things he did at his 111th birthday party. Namely, slipping on the Ring and disappearing right in front of his relatives leaving poor Gandalf to take the blame for "spiriting him away". Which is what the other hobbits assumed happened in the book. We also never hear of this.

The other thing of note in this scene is that instead of merely disappearing, the action of putting on the Ring causes Bilbo to go up an in explosion of bright sparkles. In the book, Gandalf was responsible for the flashy part, but here it appears that the old wizard had no idea Bilbo would do this and is furious. Also, get used to overblown effects for magic like this, because every magical effect is like that in this film. I apologize in advance.

Bilbo reappears at Bag End to pick up his things, but before he can Gandalf also makes an appearance and begins badgering him on how dangerous using the Ring can be, all the while wagging his finger at the hobbit as if he were his mother.

In response to this, Bilbo throws a fit. He waves his arms around in the air as if he had gone into a seizure and claims that Gandalf just wants to get his hands on "his precious" and this is passed off as horrifying. Well, it is, but not for the reasons Bakshi intended.

Since the filmmakers omitted why Bilbo suddenly calling the Ring his "precious" is a bad thing it is to any audience member who is unfamiliar with Tolkien's works to guess why. In the books, this was to show that he was becoming obsessed and exhibiting the same symptoms Gollum had. The Jackson films even took this plot point a step further than the books by having Isildor do the same thing. "The Ring is 'precious' to me." –The memoires of Isildor from the Jackson adaptation of The Fellowship of the Ring.

Nevertheless, Gandalf shakes his fist roaring for Bilbo to not repeat that phrase. Bilbo quickly changes his tone, leaves the Ring behind as Gandalf suggests, and the scene fades to Bilbo waddling away from the Shire in a fashion similar to a penguin with a contented smile on his leads a donkey bearing his luggage along. Remember, although the filmmakers do not state this directly, but the Ring keeps its wearers from aging, so Bilbo in the same physical condition as he was when he faced Smaug.

Then the scene cuts to a wide shot of Hobbiton with the caption "seventeen years pass sleepily in the Shire", and the screen begins to fade between the four seasons of the year. Alright, simple enough, this would have been just fine. Alas, the powers that be then suddenly decided to jump cut through nine more seasons for 1 ½ seconds. Neurological seizures were probably abounded in the theater back in 1978. So, a caption that read, "17 years later", then simply fading to Frodo in Bag End just wouldn't have sufficed, huh, Bakshi and company?

Speaking of which, Frodo is sleeping in a chair when he awakened by someone knocking at the front door. He lazily stretches and answers it. Of course, it's Gandalf. Frodo does a little dance while he exclaims that he's happy to see the wizard. Gandalf states the painfully obvious for those still suffering from the seasonal jump cuts earlier and barges in without invitation.

He begins telling Frodo about how the Ring of Invisibility that Bilbo passed down to him might be the One Ring of Power. He sits down by the fireplace as he did in the book, and asks Frodo for the Ring. Frodo reluctantly hands it over and Gandalf takes the Ring into his hands whereas in the books he refused to even touch it. Then Gandalf asks him if he can see anything on it. Of course, it looks like a plain old Ring. So Gandalf casually throws it into the fireplace. Frodo is horrified and tries to retrieve it. Alright, a couple of things. The Ring of power has the ability to entice and corrupt it's bearers to the point where they become hopelessly addicted to it with little to no hope of breaking themselves of it. The more powerful the victim, the better, because then the Ring could use them get it's master's attention. As such, Gandalf is very well aware of the risk of even handling the Ring once. So, as you can imagine, he didn't exactly go around handling the blasted thingg with his bare hands a whole lot like they showcase him doing here.

As Frodo as an over-the-top reaction to the Ring being flung into the fireplace Gandalf tells him that he already desires the Ring too much, which Frodo denies. Gandalf then stands up and the lecture begins. Of course, his hands wave around, milking the giant cow, and his eyes bulge as he speaks. No, really. He also hilariously over-pronounces everything in ways that would make William Shatner and Sylvester McCoy jealous. Gandalf tells Frodo about Sauron, the Ring's effect on its users, and tells the young Hobbit that the responsibility of the Ring has fallen on his shoulders.

Gandalf then reaches into the fire with his bare hands and pulls the Ring out. He hands it back to Frodo who notes that it isn't even hot. Then Gandalf begins reciting the famous poem. He is clearly doing this from memory, because Frodo does not see the inscription on the Ring as none shows and declares it is the One Ring. Based on what? Because it stays cool in fire? Wouldn't all the Rings of Power do that? Yes, Bakshi and company introduced the plot point of throwing the Ring into the fire from the book and then failed to follow up on it. After being directly exposed to flame, the incantation on both the inside and outside of the Ring was supposed to become visible and the filmmakers completely skip and ignore this!

The scene gets worse as Gandalf madly gestures while reciting the poem as he practically chases poor Frodo around the room then ends his rant by spinning on one of his heels like a ballerina and as he says the words, "…and in the darkness bind them", suddenly stops, facing forward, and dramatically wraps his arms around himself. I've seen animated characters give very physical performances before, but I've never seen one who did an interpretative dance before. He then tells Frodo that Sauron has returned, he is looking for the Ring, and if he ever finds it, he will return to full power and conquer the world.

Next, instead of having Frodo and Gandalf discuss their plans quietly while sitting by the hobbit's fireplace like in the book and like two individuals trying to keep things under wraps would do, anyway, the Bakshi film moves the remainder of the scene outdoors so the two can loudly announce their secret plans to the entire neighborhood.
Here, Gandalf informs Frodo that Sauron has learned the name 'Baggins' via Gollum. Frodo of course makes his infamous claim about how Bilbo should have killed him, but the wizard makes his assertion about how "even the very wise cannot see all ends" and that Bilbo was moved by "pity and mercy" to spare Gollum. In this instance, the Bakshi Gandalf actually carried the line fairly well and one almost gets a sense of the real Gandalf here.

They decide that they must figure out what to do with the Ring, and Frodo immediately tries to give it to Gandalf who has a momentary spasm at the gesture, proclaiming that he can't take the Ring.

Following this display, Gandalf casually wanders over to a rustling bush and pulls out…Sam. First of all, one of the unfortunate results of having Gandalf and Frodo go for a walk in the middle of the night (it wasn't even night to begin with in the book, it was the middle of the day while the two sat at Frodo's fireplace), is that when Gandalf discovers Samwise eavesdropping, it is not under a window where Sam had the excuse of gardening. In the Bakshi film, they instead find him hiding out in a lone bush where Gandalf and Frodo just happened to be. Secondly, what was Sam doing even there? Or do I really want to know? Third, we are never told who Sam is. This is the first time the audience is introduced to him. That Sam is both Frodo's gardener and an old friend are not established. Yeah, a single sentence that could have been delivered over the course of five seconds was just too difficult for Bakshi to fit in. Anyone who hadn't read the books or had not done so recently would not know or might not remember at all. Last, this is where the film takes a turn for the worse.

Tolkien's Samwise Gamgee was a dynamic, honest, pure-hearted, strong-willed, courageous, and loyal character who is the embodiment of the best friend anyone, anywhere, could ever have. He overcomes his own shortcomings to support Frodo through hellfire and brimstone. He becomes an essential player in the grand scheme of things and the quest to destroy the Ring would have failed without him. By contrast, this Samwise Gamgee is a short, squat midget, even among hobbits, and he is an odious moron with a goofy sounding voice and a voice actor who either phones in his lines or carries on inanely. He's also been designated to comic relief in a Eisner-style "artistic" decision. If I remember correctly, Bakshi once said that he wouldn't leave Disney to be like Disney. Yet here he is, making the exact same choice one of the most reviled figures (Eisner) in animation would have in the same situation.
Also at absolutely no point does Sam ever play an important role in this movie or do anything useful.

Anyway, upon being pulled out of the bush (Ew!), Sam begins goose-stepping around babbling about he's afraid that Gandalf will turn him into "something unnatural". He isn't already? Frodo and Gandalf look on with indulgent smiles, telling the viewer that this is somehow supposed to be endearing. It is not.

Then Sam utters the line that has sparked many a "Sam the Mind-Reader" joke in several reviews of this film: "Well, I heard a deal that I didn't rightly understand, about an enemy and rings, and about elves, sir!" A cookie to anyone who spots the gaping hole in the writing here. At no point in their conversation did Frodo or Gandalf mention elves. Either this was the result of poor editing in which the parts of the conversation concerning elves from the book were actually recorded, then ended up on the cutting room floor, or someone made an equally huge mistake during the writing process. No matter what happened behind the scenes, this is a blatant display of ill-care for the project and many have stated how that they couldn't believe Bakshi, the writers, the editors, the producers, and anyone else who saw the film during screenings let slip by them.

Sam exclaims that he'd "love to go see elves", and unfortunately, Gandalf takes this cue to send him along with Frodo on his journey. Of all the times Bakshi picked to stick to the books, it was the time most audiences wished he hadn't. Take note that the Bakshi Sam's behavior exhibits a far more perverse reason for wanting to see the elves than many have been comfortable with as opposed to the Tolkien Sam's innocent wonderment towards them.

At this point, Gandalf announces that he must go and consult the head of his order…Aruman. In the books, the Head of the Order of Wizards was named Saruman. To explain this, test audiences were confused by the names Sauron and Saruman. So, the producers made Bakshi change the White Wizard's name via removing the 'S', part of the time. Unfortunately, as many have pointed out Bakshi was not consistent with this change and the characters revert to calling him Saruman the other half of the time.

Gandalf takes his leave after giving Frodo instructions to meet him at the Prancing Pony Inn in Bree. After the wizard leaves Samwise does a little chicken dance and struts way like a wind-up toy loudly raving about he's going to go "see the elves" with a tone reminiscent of Lenny from Of Mice and Men.

Next, cut to Gandalf's journey to Isengard, or at least cut to an animation of Gandalf riding around on his horse pasted in front of a poorly done Matte painting. Gandalf marches into (s)Aruman's tower and begins attempting to order the head of the order of wizards around. As for (S)Aruman, as it has been noticed by most viewers, he has the appearance of an Evil Santa Claus dressed in red robes with huge 70s hair and a voice about as smooth and charismatic as Yosemite Sam's. Yet he is still referred to "(S)Aruman the White" for whatever reason. Also, remember, in the books, Saruman had an enchanting voice that could persuade many over to his side.

(S)Aruman, who will be called Santaman from this point hence, says nothing for most of this scene, but when he does, he manages to out ham Gandalf at every turn. Then, after revealing that he has changed alliances, he raises his arms in the air, opens his robe at Gandalf (!), and gray/blue wizard and the audience are assaulted with an overblown light-show. This display of all manner of flashing lights and other weird things must have been inspired by a drug trip the filmmakers went on during production. Subtly, thy name is Bakshi.

The walls begin to fade, although the floor stays exactly the same, and suddenly the two are on the roof. Santaman walks off (to where?), leaving Gandalf just staying frozen in position for whatever reason and his prisoner roars the traitor's name as full volume. Santaman laughs evilly and the camera pans out to reveal how huge the tower is in comparison to Gandalf. Also, there's a giant disco ball encompassing the entire sky. It's out of focus, but to anyone who has ever seen an old John Travolta movie, there's no mistaking one when you see it.

Now, the scene is not clear about this, but Santaman put Gandalf up there to trap him and force him to switch sides as well. Also, in the books, Gandalf's staff was taken from him to give him a handicap in escaping as a wizard's power is channeled or at least enhanced through his staff. Gandalf's staff remains firmly in his grasp throughout this scene.

Fade back to the hobbits, Frodo and Sam. They are already leaving the Shire for Bree under the deception of Frodo moving to a home in Bywater, and have been joined by Merry and Pippin. The problem, though, is that we never learn which one is which for many scenes to come.

The viewer is taken through a montage of their travels, including one point where one of them has a guitar (?!) and the other three are merrily dancing to the music. By music, I mean tuneless "tra-la-la".

There's also some dialogue passed between them about how they need to use the name "Underhill" when referring to Frodo. However, before they can talk too much more, they hear something coming towards them on the road and they hide under some tree roots protruding out from the side of the steep hill that neighbors the road. This sequence is mirrored later in the Jackson version, which took a few cues from Bakshi's rendition.

As for the approaching visitor, it is of course one of the Nazgul, referred to as the Black Riders at this point in the saga. Now, where to begin? First of all, the rider is not wearing black. The rider is wearing brownish-gray. Secondly, instead of the swift and merciless killing machines they were in the books, this thing moves like one would expect a zombie or retiree to. It also makes a terrible wailing sound. No. Not a terrifying wailing sound, just a terrible one. The wraith leaves without checking the area properly. Jackson's version had a remedy for this. Merry distracts the wraith via throwing his pack and once it quickly rushes over to the source of the noise the hobbits make a break for it. Here, it's a wonder that version's Sauron was ever able to make 'The Last Alliance fall beneath his power' at all.

Once the 'danger' is gone, Frodo and his cousins have an argument. Anyone who has read the books knows that Merry, Pippin, Samwise, and a fourth hobbit named Fatty were all part of a conspiracy to uncover the truth about Bilbo and his disappearing act when the old hobbit once put the ring on while Merry was watching unnoticed. Bakshi actually keeps this detail but it comes out right here in the woods for any random passerby to overhear, instead of in the privacy of Frodo's 'new home', like in the books. Actually, come to think of it, it's no wonder Sauron was ever to threat to this Middle Earth. Everyone here is an idiot.

Frodo is angry at Sam and his cousins for spying, initially, before giving in after they declare that they'll stick with Frodo all the way (oh, joy.). Then they once again begin discussing their plans out in the open, just in case there were a few people who hadn't listened in yet.

The film skips over Farmer Maggot, the Old Forest, Old Man Willow, Tom Bombadil, and the Barrow Wights, so the hobbits are in Bree upon the very next scene. Although during their time at Farmer Maggot's, the hobbits learn that the Black Riders are searching for them, most of these chapters have absolutely nothing to do with the primary plot. Dropping the events in this part of the book is actually an understable deviation, one that would also be mirrored in later renditions.

Now, at the Prancing Pony, the next hint of just what a small budget Bakshi was working with is shown. There are a grand total of six animated characters in this scene, the four hobbits, Aragorn, and Butterbur the bartender. The rest…the rest are live-action actors with a visible effect put over them to try to make them look more like illustrations. This attempt, however, fails miserably. Oh, well, at least Aragorn still sits rather inconspicuously in the corner smoking his pipe like one would expect of a ranger. We also catch hint of some other characters from the books who whisper to each other as if they suspect who the hobbits really are. In the books, these three were Tom Ferny and his two cohorts who slipped off to contact the wraiths.

As per the books, Merry decides to go for a stroll in which he encounters the wraiths. Before he leaves he loudly reminds Frodo and the others to keep the secret. You know, just in case any of the other patrons of the Prancing Pony couldn't hear them. Wall banger much?

I also only know this is Merry because I read the books. If the film is anything to go on here, it could be either Merry or Pippin.

Moving on, Frodo soon finds himself at the center of attention and is called to sing a song. Unlike in the book in which he was inspired to do so to halt Pippin when his tongue was getting a little too loose, here Frodo just kind of does it. At least it's the same song from the books, though. Also, if you ever get a chance to watch this film, (and I wouldn't) closely observe the people who clap and cheer to Frodo's song. One of them is a midget dressed like John Wayne sitting next to what looks like Ronnie Dio dressed as a pirate.

Meanwhile, back with Merry on his stroll, the Raingwraiths sneak up on him and burp blue mist in his face, causing him to lose consciousness and then they just wonder off. More amazingly, they don't kill Merry or just stab him to turn him into a Wraith. In the books, they put Merry under the fear which paralyzes mortals in the Nazgul's presence right when they were probably about to search or interrogate him when they were caught by one of Butterbur's employees, Bob. They quickly ran off to avoid their presence being exposed. It would seem Bakshi just stuck this in here for bragging rights that he kept all the scenes from the book. No never mind that these scenes all had to serve some kind of purpose.

Back in the tavern, everyone is still dancing and cheering to Frodo's table dance, when he suddenly trips, falls over, and disappears via slipping the Ring on. This little scene makes sense, because Frodo, like in the books, was playing with the Ring in his pocket (in fact, he is visibly doing this while dancing here) and it accidentally slipped onto his finger when he fell.

However, instead of slinking away to reappear while no one is looking, as per the books, Frodo stupidly reappears while everyone is still watching. Our hero, ladies and gentlemen. Butterbur orders the hobbits upstairs to their room, and they comply. Anyone who has read the books will know Aragorn accompanies them.
Also, the hobbits have heavy pounding footsteps while walking down the hallway. As opposed to, you know the quick and quiet hobbits from the books.

Once they enter their room, they find that they have a guest waiting for them, Aragorn. Aragorn, thus far, has gotten the worse of the deal here. While some people attempt to advocate his appearance here by saying things "What would you expect from a guy who roughs in the wilderness all the time. He isn't going to be a pretty boy like Mortensen." Actually, he would be. Aragorn isn't just your typical ranger roughing it in the wood. He was raised by the elves, has a little elvish blood in him, and is of the high human race of the Numenoreans. No, there is no excuse for Aragorn to still not look handsome and almost beautiful as Tolkien states he is. Of course, people who advocate Bakshi was backing up Bakshi, not Tolkien, the person they should be defending. In this film, though, Aragorn looks like the half-bit superhero Apache Chief, from the Superfriends, in a sleeveless tunic and a mini-skirt with a dark drown cape and yellow boots. Unfortunately, we also catch a peak or two of what he's wearing under the skirt a couple of times. Fan disservice panty shots? He is voiced by John Hurt, whom you would know as the guy who got his chest-burst in the original Alien, Hellboy's adoptive father, and as The Elephant Man.

Unfortunately, the one thing Bakshi chose to stick to from the books is that Aragorn runs around with the broken sword, but no other weapon. This worked in Tolkien's original work, but here, it just looks ridiculous. Jackson's version also took care of this by giving Aragorn as full sword. Another problem with Aragorn's sword here is that Bakshi never explains its importance, nor is Gondor even given identity. I repeat it didn't even look like Narsil even broke in the opening narration when it cut the Ring from Sauron's hand.

In the book, Aragorn's sword Narsil belonged to Isildor, the King of Gondor, who was the man who cut the Ring from Sauron's hand. The sword was broken in the encounter. It is the heirloom of Isildor's bloodline and is passed down to his heir's. Aragorn is the only living descendant of the line as of the present, though. Gondor is the kingdom of the Numenors who have since then fallen from grace and are in need of their king, but only after Sauron is defeated can Aragorn be their king because Sauron will raze Gondor to the ground before he'll see their king returned to the throne. He's kind of a jerk that way.

Back to the film, the first thing Aragorn does is start lecturing the hobbits on their mistakes. This is very, VERY justified as Bakshi was portrayed all the hobbits as having not even half the intelligence they did from the books. The problem is that he makes Aragorn come across as a prick while he does this. While he's still lecturing them, Butterbur comes in with Merry, who was sedated earlier, and Aragorn yells at him (Butterbur), too. Samwise doesn't think they should trust Aragorn. You know, when the idiot starts making sense, the end must truly be near.

In response to this, Aragorn declares himself a friend to Gandalf. Take note that the letter Gandalf sent them in the books detailing who would come to meet them in Bree if he himself could not is left out altogether. So, long story short, Aragorn has absolutely no proof that he ever even met Gandalf and the hobbits are left with only his 'charismatic' personality to go on. However, the hobbits still decide to trust him. The Jackson film also had this problem, but they justified it by making the situation tense enough that the hobbits just didn't have a choice in the matter.

Later, the wraiths enter Bree and somehow teleport into the hobbits' room. The beds appear to be occupied, so they begin stabbing the lumps under the sheets. Of course, the beds turn out to be empty and the wraiths tear the room apart before throwing off their robes (?!) and revealing their true forms, which should actually be invisible to the naked eye. The whole reason for the robes was to give them corporeal form so that they could journey across the land to search for the Ring. They could not act otherwise.

Cut to the room Aragorn moved the hobbits to the thwart the wraiths' attack. They are safe and sound while the wraiths think that the hobbits have taken to the woods again, and leave town to find them. For once, Bakshi actually stuck to the books in a way that was both understandable and it doable without explanation. Savor it while you can.

The following day, Aragorn and the foursome leave Bree and make their way to Rivendell. Cue another montage of travel and one confusing scene in which they visibly see the wraiths chasing them, but nothing comes of this (?).

At the end of the traveling sequence, the scene fades to Aragorn telling the hobbits the moving love story of Beren and Luthien a couple that mirrors Aragorn and Arwen. Or would, had Arwen the elf maiden actually been featured in this version at all. While he tells them the story, Frodo and Sam snuggle up and get a little too friendly with each other. This is potentially the source of all the "Frodo and Sam are gay" theories. They are all dead wrong, of course, as Sam ends up with about fifteen children that he has with Rosie Cotton (another love interest not featured in this movie) and Frodo is mostly asexual in the books aside from a handful of times he was smitten by the elven beauty of Arwen and Galadriel.

Fortunately, the moment is interrupted before anything too unnatural can happen (this is not a dig at homosexuals. It's just that the thought of anyone getting it on with this Sam is a horrible image I am endlessly glad the wraiths rescued us from), when the group is attacked by the wraiths. The ringwraiths approach looking transparent and brown for some reason. Frodo is tempted to put the Ring and does so. Of course, the wraiths find him quickly because he did so and he is soon stabbed in the shoulder. On an interesting note, the one who stabbed him grabs him as he falls and sets him down on the ground tenderly. Ever the gentlemen!

Aragorn pounces at the wraiths all the while waving two flaming sticks in the air, scaring them off. Another thing not explained by Bakshi: the ringwraiths fear fire and those who wield it.

On Frodo's shoulder wound: Anyone who has read the books will know that the blade was enchanted with dark magics that will turn Frodo into a wraith before long and that he must be rushed to Rivendell for treatment. Fortunately, Bakshi is uncharacteristically clear about this.

Soon after this attack, the group is met on the road by another horseback visitor. Unlike in the books, it is not Glorfindel. Jackson's version has the same deviation, but they, at least, made it work. Here, Bakshi just simply displaces another one of Tolkien's characters for the sake of saving time and not having to introduce anymore new characters than necessary.

The rider is this rendition is Legolas, who is reduced from being the Prince of the Mirkwood elves to being Elrond's servant. His clothes look suspiciously identical to Luke Skywalker's wardrobe from the majority of the first Star Wars film. Legolas also has a flat face with a big nose that sticks out, and big Bambi eyes. He's also voiced by Anthony Daniels, who played C3-P0 in all the Star Wars films. Needless to say, this is the worse Legolas EVER!

Samwise is very enthusiastic about finally being able to see an elf up close. He grins widely, showing the audience the worse teeth since Steve Bescemi. Then giggles like a girl while hopping around excitedly like a child. The horrors never cease, do they, Bakshi?

After some talk about the wound inflicted on Frodo from the Morgol blade the group arrives at a riverbank. Here, they are attacked by the wraiths once again, and the background becomes live-action clouds colored purple, for some reason. Frodo is bid to go ahead on horseback and the infamous chase scene from the books begins. Not before Aragorn gets tripped up by the wraiths after he proclaims that he will try to slow them down, though. This is not the last moment of complete incompetence on this Aragorn's part, I am afraid.

Frodo finally arrives at the border of Rivendell after a long and confusing chase scene in which his horse seems to die and be resurrected. Yes, really. The wraiths bid him to go to back to Mordor with them, but Frodo pathetically resists, pulling out his sword and waving it around in the air like an old man might wave a cane at children playing on his lawn.

The wraiths, all nine of them now gathered at the riverbank, start to head towards Frodo when they're overtaken by Elrond's tidal wave that takes the form of horses. Frodo passes out.

to be continued...

After notes:

John Boorman, when he couldn't adapt The Lord of the Rings, instead made a film titled Zardoz, which starred a bikini-clad Sean Connery, giant floating heads which spit guns, and an opening speech about how "the penis is evil, but the gun is good". The film was of the 'I am not making this up' variety, so say the least. Check it out, its insanity will not fail to disappoint.

[LunarRaptor]

The Game Attempts-Part Two:

We being our next scene with Frodo waking up in a bed in Rivendell. Gandalf is sitting by his bedside, as per the books and other adaptations, but here, it comes off as really creepy. It's almost as if Gandalf were looming over Frodo as he has a nightmare. Finally, Frodo shoots straight up in bed, yelling, "No! Never!"

Then, much to the audience's chagrin, instead of light-heartedly chiding Frodo on how thoroughly he botched his venture before moving onto other topics of discussion as in the original work, Gandalf begins lecturing him again. Oh, and what Bakshi-Gandalf lecture would be complete if he weren't pacing back and forth around the room with his arms flapping like a bird trying to take off into the sky? He's kind of like a child on espresso here. Frodo watches this with a pained expression, mirroring the audience’s own.

After being as condescending as possible once more, Gandalf tells Frodo about his encounter with Evil Santaman, then leans over and tells Frodo to rest. I won't comment on this because it sticks with what's written in the text this time, although in the flashback the Lord of the Eagles looks like a sparrow. Then, Frodo turns away from Gandalf and looks directly at the audience with tortured eyes, as if begging us to rescue him.

Fade to a short and pointless scene in which Frodo and Bilbo reunite. Bilbo asks to see his ring one more time, and Frodo complies. The scene is mostly based directly on what Tolkien wrote, but it takes Frodo's temptation to hit his uncle to the extreme by actually having Frodo pull back his fist in preparation to do just that (!?). Also, Bilbo's newly reemerged temptation of the Ring is portrayed so horribly that one cannot take it seriously. Unlike the moment in which Ian Holm's Bilbo from Jackson's trilogy turns downright feral for an instant, which scared millions in the audience everywhere, the effect is just not there.

Fade to the Council of Elrond and the dinner that was held the night before combined into one scene. Not necessarily a bad choice of deviation, but it is done so abruptly that any audience members out of loop will feel something is missing. Now, Tolkien knew how important it was to make sure his readers were up to date with the current events of Middle Earth, so the first part of the council was just putting together the pieces of the world’s puzzle to properly establish what Sauron was up to. Of course, no film could ever deliver this, and it has thus been shortened in all other versions.

Tring Sauron's recent movements was done via testimonies given by all the races’ representatives invited to the council who came from all over Middle-Earth. After figuring out that Sauron is both making moves to find the Ring and launch his assault on Middle-earth, they discuss what to do with the Ring, and then chose the people who will carry out the course of action they decide upon. Tolkien took thirty-two pages in what was essentially a whole chapter out of his work to do this. Jackson's version is roughly six-ten minutes long, forgoes on the information sharing and focuses more on deciding what to do with the Ring and getting the group together.

Bakshi's…is three and a half minutes and forgoes on just about everything aside from picking the Fellowship members. There is no discussion. Elrond, the Half-Elf Lord of Rivendell calls all the shots without question with the exception of Boromir's. Take notice that the Council is the only scene in which Boromir's infatuation with the Ring will be prevalent for the longest time. This flaw for which the character is so famous does not reemerge until much, much later, whereas in the book, this was an on-going thing with Boromir.

Bakshi-Elrond tells the council what they will do with the Ring and he picks who will do it. He did chose the Fellowship members in the books, but it doesn't change that the Ring's fate was first discussed by the entire council, instead of one holding absolute control. Isn't that the kind of mentality what they were battling against?

It is understandable why such a long scene would be shortened and refined into a shorter scene, but The Council of Elrond is a mile stone and a crossroads which lays down the foundations of the rest of the plot for approximately 800 or so more pages. Any filmmaker would have to properly pace himself to do this right. Bakshi…does not. He rushes the scene and practically thrusts the Fellowship right into the mountain range where they were stopped by a storm at breakneck speed without even stopping to properly explain why they need to go Mount Doom to destroy the Ring. By rushing this scene, Bakshi created a disjointed mess that he failed to pick up.

By the way, the Ring can only be destroyed in the pits of doom from which it was made because that pit is the only one that boils hotly enough to destroy it. The pit is located in Mount Doom, which as at the exact geographical center of Sauron's territory. There, I explained it in about 50 fifty that took about a minute to say. Bakshi’s really couldn’t take another minute that get that across?

The scene in which Bilbo gives Frodo the mithril vest and String is included, but is very short and ineffective, though textually true to the book.
The scene in which Elrond picks who will be the Fellowship is skipped over and done in narration which is spoken over the nine trying to make their way past the Moria mountain range.

Now, about Elrond, Gimli, and Boromir: Elrond bears a striking resemblance to old timey actor John Carradine with a dash of Kevin Nealon thrown in. One look at him and its likely no one will ever complain about Hugo Weaving getting miscast ever again.

As for Boromir, well… He's a Viking in this adaptation. Not only that, but he appears to be wearing the very same helmet Sauron was in the opening narration. As people who have read the books will know, Boromir is from the line of the Stewarts of Gondor and also of the line of Numenoreans. They mind the kingdom while the kings are away. So Gondor's Stewarts have been ruling for a very long time (for over 3,000 years, actually). Boromir is the elder son of the current Stewart, Denethur. Of course, this connection to Aragorn, Isildor's Heir to Gondor's throne, is never established. Another thing the audience will notice is that he is also without pants, and he's nobility! Hate to see the state of the common man's attire in Gondor...

Now, last and certainly least, Gimli, who has not even been introduced formally in the film as of yet. Although he is called a dwarf, he is actually a merely a normal sized human who is a little on the short side, wears plain clothing as opposed to the original's battle armor, and his beard hangs unkempt from his face. Nope, not braided and well-taken care of the way the pride of joy of a dwarf's appearance would be in Tolkien's books.

Back to the film, after the failed attempted to cross over the mountains, the Fellowship stops to discuss what they should do next. Gandalf and Aragorn are viciously arguing about which direction that they should take. Aragorn wants to go to the Gap of Rohan and Gandalf wants to go to Moria.

Throughout the fight, they do not treat each other very friendly, although Aragorn and Gandalf had a great respect for each other in the book. Also the disagreements between the two were kept at mere respectful recommendations on each other's part. Here in Bakshi's film, the whole Fellowship just acts abrasively towards each other.

In the end, Frodo ends up having to decide, although he votes knowing nothing about either way, unlike in the books when the pros and cons of each direction were calmly laid out by all parties involved. For those haven't read the books or are without recent memory, here they are: The Gap of Rohan was thought to be safer road, overall, by Aragorn, because it doesn't take venturing parties through goblin and Balrog infested caves. What's a Balrog? They are ancient demons of smoke and flame that are essentially of equal power and rank as Sauron, the main villain of the story. That's all.

However, the Gap of Rohan would take them dangerously close to Isengard, where Evil Santaman lives. This is where the Mines of Moria come in. They are far from Saruman's sights, but they take venturing parties through goblin and Balrog infested caves. It's very much a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. This is also why they were trying to pass over the mountains which housed the Mines of Moria so they wouldn't have to take either of those roads. However, they were stopped by the blizzard which was actually powered by the malevalent spirit of the mountain, itself. Of course, none of this information is coherently explained at all by this film.

Anyway, Frodo votes on Moria and the course is set. Yes, Frodo is flying blind, entirely dependent of Gandalf's wisdom, and he doesn't bother to ask what they're in for like in the books.
By the way, they didn't actually know that it was a Balrog, specifically, in Moria, but they know something dark slept in the depths of Moria before entering. Aragorn was able to confirm this as he'd actually been there once before, and hence why he didn't want to go back. The orcs helped with that decision, but he still saw something else other than them down there on his first visit that gave him the creeps.

Cut to the entrance to Moria. The group is sitting around the entrance, and Gandalf is standing in front of the sealed door trying to open it. Here Legolas and Gimli momentarily bicker about the door's purpose and actually manage to give the audience a little background on it. Only one problem, Legolas complains about how silly the door is, although it was made by elves. Yes, Bakshi did not even bother to keep up the research concerning the current scene. Oh well, at least the audience is actually clued in on the basics this scene around.

Frodo comments on how the lake frightens him. Actually, in the books, it was just a feeling of unease, which was shared by the rest of the fellowship. Boromir stupidly throws a rock at the lake in the original version of the scene, which is likely the cause of a later effect. Here, no one throws anything at the water. Heck, we’re not even given any reason to uneasy of the lake.

Meanwhile on Gandalf's end he is busily repeating the same word over and over again, trying to open the door. Boromir, channeling the audience, thinks that the wizard is useless. Cue Gandalf figuring out that the word is 'mellon', the elvish word for 'friend'. The doors open and the group starts to enter. Oh Bakshi, you card!

The film does not mention this (man, that is starting to become a real reoccurring problem here), but above the door is a riddle written in elvish, "Speak 'Friend', and enter." This throws anybody trying to come through this entrance after it's been sealed off if they don't know the password, or just don't know elvish to even read the riddle. Also, the riddle is engraved with a special material that only reflects moonlight, so you must arrive on a clear lit night. Lastly, the riddle is obviously a play on words for those who have been reading this, read the books, or seen the Jackson films.

And anyone who have seen the Jackson films and/or read the books, know what's coming. The Cthulhu or Kraken-esque Watcher in the water grabs Frodo by the foot and lifts him into the air. Frodo screams for Gandalf's help, and everyone who isn't a wizard rushes to help Frodo via graphically (too graphically for the mere PG rating this film got) slicing off the creature's tentacles.

Take notice that Aragorn's sword is no longer broken. The film does not explain this (sigh), but in the books when it was decided that Aragorn would accompany as a member of the fellowship, his heirloom sword would be reforged so he would have it when he went to the capital city of Gondor, Minas Tirath, to reclaim his throne. Yes, once again, any real detail of Aragorn's backstory, which is not at all important to the main plot, is left out entirely.

Anyway, the group rescues Frodo from the thing's clutches and they run into the Mine entrance. The Watcher then closes the doors behind them. It also did this in the books, but Tolkien's description actually succeeded in making that action sound menacing and malicious. When it's shown, it just looks like the Watcher is a grumpy doorman who was going through Frodo's pockets for some I.D. Not only that, but somehow the tentacles reach in as if from around the corner on both sides like there were two watchers doing this. Yes, logic be damned!

The Jackson films also had an answer for door-closing problem: the Watcher instead tries to bring down the whole cave on top of the offending intruders by tearing the hell out of the roof above the Fellowship's heads as they ran into the mines, thus trapping them inside behind a pile of rubble.

Back to the film, the Fellowship is now inside of Moria, the crowning achieve of dwarven architecture, the pentacle of their skill, and the remains of the ultimate dwarven kingdom's palace. So, how did Bakshi deliver this? Simple, it doesn’t.
Moria in this film doesn't look like a palace at all. Instead, it looks like the lair of Dracula or something, because they are frightening stone gargoyles and hideous faces carved into the walls. This place was supposed to showcase the dwarf's abilities are builders and it was supposed to be beautiful. The film also neglects to the mention that one Bilbo's companions and a father figure to Gimli, Balin, had entered the mines with a band of dwarves many years before to try to reclaim them. However, the outside world had lost contact with them after a certain point. This is of particular note, considering that Balin is one of the more favored characters from The Hobbit. This also really strange considering this is one time they could have made some passing mention of this character without much information behind him, since the animated adaptation of The Hobbit was released in 1977, just the year before.

Gandalf, as in the books, is using his staff is a light to show them the way. Cue yet another montage of them traveling. Eventually, they stop to sleep for what they guess is the night.

Frodo awakens to find two glowing eyes watching him in the dark. It is, of course, Gollum. This begs the question: how did he find them? Well, in the books, he was already in the mountains on his mad quest to recover the Ring and overheard the struggle. He lucked out, big time.

In the next scene the fellowship comes to the guardroom, where they decide to spend the night (again). The only thing of note in this scene is that Pippin drops a rock down a well in the middle of the room, and Gandalf gives him a stern talking to about this. The dialogue is identical to the book's but Gandalf just comes off as insane as he waves his arms around in the air like he swatting flies. He stops when they hear a quiet tapping coming from the bottom of the well. The film never explains this, but that's a Moria orc alerting its companions that they have "visitors".

After some more scenes of the Fellowship journeying through Moria, they finally come to the Tomb of Balin, although the Tomb is left out altogether. Instead, they only find the Journal of Balin, which chronicled the dwarfs' venture to retake the mountain. Of course, they were eventually overtaken by the orcs and were all slaughtered. In the books, there is a renewed urgency to exit the caves that comes of this, but here, it carries on the same monotonous pace that the film has been stuck in ever since the group entered Moria.

Then suddenly, what should happen but a huge horde of terrifying orcs come charging into the room where the Fellowship is! Actually, there only about six or seven of them to the Fellowship's nine. They are also live-action actors in really bad costumes. Basically, they wear the same kind of helmet that Boromir does, dress in raggedy clothes, and have poorly inserted red eyes and green, glowing teeth (?!).

For reasons that further make the scene beyond suspension of belief, the group acts as if they are mortal danger, despite not even being outnumbered. In the books they were actually were attacked by a huge horde of terrifying and quick footed orcs. The fight carries out with the fellowship actually having trouble dealing with the orcs. It only gets worse from there on to the end of the scene. In a sequence which Bakshi must was taken directly from a football movie, a lone and slow-moving orc runs at Frodo, overpowers Aragorn and Boromir, and then throws a spear at Frodo. However, Frodo's wearing the already established mithril vest, and survives, as per the book. However, in the book, the orc was actually an orc captain who swiftly dodged Aragorn and Boromir's first attacks before specifically throwing the spear at Frodo before being dispatched.

The group dispatches the orc and makes a break for it. Suddenly, they are pursued by ten orcs now, although it's obvious that it's the same three-five actors imposed into the scene two or three times over. In the books, they were pursued by a sizable mob which would overpower and utterly destroy them if they tried to fight them. Also, the audience is not let in on where the Fellowship is specifically escaping to, other than the exit. In the books, it's quite plainly explained that they are running to a narrow bridge which is just before the exit on the other side.

Also take note of one orc that looks exactly like cousin It from The Adams Family in some upcoming close-ups and a wide shot of the orcs.

Suddenly, there's a loud roaring sound. At first, savvy audience members will wonder if the Fellowship is being attacked by a troll now, because the orcs and trolls are the only creatures native to Moria which have the ability to vocalize. However, this is unfortunately not the case. The loud creature they are hearing is the Balrog, the before mentioned fire demon of equal power to Sauron. The thing that was also a part of the reason the dwarves were wiped out. It had been sleeping under the mountain for a very long time, when the dwarves' mining woke it up. Sounds very intimidating, doesn't it? One would think that even Bakshi couldn't botch such a sure thing. …Then it appears.
In the books, the Balrog is described as a great cloud of smoke and fire with the form of a man which could not be clearly seen in the middle of it, other than its fiery eyes. This left a lot to the imagination and the creature was all the more frightening to the reader that way. That, and it carried a flaming sword and a flaming whip in its hands. It also did not make any sound. It also moved with frightening speed which inspired the Fellowship to run for all their worth away from it.

The menace of the Balrog is its mystery. It goes something like this. Let's say, that there is a frightening urban tale about a man named Bob in your neighborhood known for his evil deeds, but no one knows what he looks like and no one wants to go visit him. But they say he lives in an abandoned house where nasty things tend to happen. Unfortunately, in order to achieve your goal, you have to pass through his property. The menace of the Balrog is a lot like that, only magnified several times over. It is that fear of the unknown that gets to the reader and it's a stroke of genius on Tolkien's part that he utilized it the way he did.

In Bakshi's film, however…well, it has big red and black wings like a Monarche Butterfly, the head of a papier-mâché lion, feet that look like black fluffy bedtime slippers, it growls and carries on like an orc in heat, and moves extremely slowly. Also, the Balrog in Tolkien's original book could not fly. Here, it can, which makes an event which is about to come to pass very confusing. Also, the orcs disappear into thin air somewhere between the frames when the Balrog somehow scared them off.

The Fellowship runs the rest of the way to the bridge with the Balrog trailing about a mile behind them. In the book, they couldn't seem to get across the bridge quickly enough, as Gandalf has to stop and turn to face the Balrog just to stop it from following them right across. Here, Gandalf has to stop and wait for the blasted thing to catch up to them! The other heroes try to get Gandalf to come with them, or at least help him, despite the lack of haste or intensity in this situation. Gandalf bids them to go on with him, because they cannot aid him against this foe. In the books, Gandalf taking the stand against the evil demonic monster was a heart-warming, suspenseful, frightening, and gripping moment all at once. It worked because the Balrog had been hyped up enough and well-enough that the reader actually feared for Gandalf the Wizard's life. Here, thanks to the poor rendering of the Balrog, the poor acting of Gandalf's voice actor, and the bad pacing of the scene all around, the emotions that should have swept over the viewer had the experience been anything like the book are just not there.

Back to the film, the Fellowship clears out, having been moved by Gandalf's words (somehow), leaving the wizard to have his infamous stand-off with the Balrog. He utters his famous "You shall not pass" line, which sounded great coming from Ian McKellan, but not so much from this guy. Then he and the Balrog actually duke it out on the narrow bridge for a bit and Gandalf's sword is actually destroyed, which did not happen in the books and the sword still reemerges intact later in the film. This was probably done to demonstrate how powerful the Balrog was, but it doesn't really work, considering that Gandalf can apparently just repair the damn sword! Finally, Gandalf uses his magic to break the bridge and send the Balrog plummeting down into the pit below. As the Balrog falls down a space big enough for it spread its wings and fly, it instead snares Gandalf by his feet and pulls him down with it. The Fellowship rush to the edge of the pit, but Gandalf orders them to retreat.

In the books, there was no swordplay between Gandalf and the Balrog. Gandalf knew he could not fight the Balrog under such conditions, and instead lured it out onto the bridge before breaking it, sending the wingless and flightless creature down into the depths below. Yes, Gandalf's brilliant strategy is downplayed to a last minute act of desperation in Bakshi's film. The Balrog did snare Gandalf by the leg with its whip in the book, though.
The Jackson films also gave their Balrog wings, but they made up for it before having the fall space be narrow enough that the thing really couldn't get them spread before picking up too much momentum to use them.

About Gandalf's death: in the original work, this was a sudden death of a character who was already beloved by readers everywhere because of his presence in The Hobbit early in Fellowship. Usually, character deaths up to the time of The Lord of the Rings's release were treated the same as Shakespeare's character deaths, which were usually accompanied by long goodbyes and the soon-to-be diseased making his final peace with the world. Here, the loss of Gandalf was sudden and ruthless. He was there, and then he was gone. Just like that. Kind of like what could happen to a fellow soldier on the battlefield. This moment of brilliant piece of storytelling was done through Tolkien channeling his own emotions wrought by losing friends on the battlefield. The end on the field of battle does not come with flowery goodbyes, but at the violent, terrible and sudden end of a person you had forged a bond with.

In the Bakshi film, the audience can only look on with apathy, as no bond between viewer and Gandalf was forged. An unfortunate thing to happen, but it was mostly Bakshi's fault. The film is just too short. In fact, the film had gone on for precisely one hour and five minutes by this point. In this time, none of Gandalf's personality was allowed to shine through while he was delivering the bulk of the important dialogue. Three volumes. Three films, Bakshi.

Aragorn now takes up the charge of leadership and orders the group out of the mines. From there, they head to Lothlorien. The journey there starts of fine, but then the group begins complaining and arguing again. I hate you, Bakshi-Fellowship. I hate every one of you.

[LunarRaptor]

The Game Attempts-Part 3:

Eventually, the decide to get moving again, and then the scene cuts right to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel skipping over the whole sequence when the Fellowship was captured by Haldir (that elf who gets the drop of them in the Jackson films right when Gimli is bragging about how finely tuned his senses are, for those unfamiliar with the original book), then led along blind-folded to the home of the Lothlorien elves. In Bakshi's film, it's like they just walked right in without need for invitation. Yeah… Bakshi’s understanding of the Lothlorien elves is…lacking.

Immediately when the characters open their mouths, there's yet another problem. Bakshi and company screwed up the pronunciation of Celeborn's name. It is Kell-e-born. Here, it's pronounced "Sell-a-born". There is no excuse for this! The pronunciation of his name is the very first note of Appendix E! Yes, how to pronounce every name and the information of each and every character is right there in the manual found at the end of Return of the King, the manual that Bakshi should have been using while making this film!

Moving on, Galadriel already knows of Gandalf's demise at the Balrog's hands and mourns his death. Savvy audience members, however, mourn for the loss of his character development. Also in this scene, the audience is assaulted by more drug-trip inspired graphics, as Lothlorien's architecture is decorated with fairy-lighting and is made up of oil-paintings that look like they were done by school children.

Following this scene, after the Fellowship has been invited to stay a while, the elves begin to sing their Lamentation of Gandalf, which actually sounds like a light-hearted song sung by smurfs. Evidently, Gandalf's passing did not warrant a truly sad tune in the Bakshiverse. This song plays over the Fellowship members enjoying themselves in Lothlorien. For example, Aragorn and Boromir practice their sword-fighting, Legolas showing Gimli how to fire an arrow ("Heh, heh, sucker! When I master this art, you better start runnin' ya pancy elf!").

The audience is also presented a scene of Samwise picking a bunch of flowers. He starts picking off the rose peddles of one of them in a "She loves me, she loves me not" fashion. More disturbingly, since Rosy Cotton was been excluded entirely, that Samwise is a horrible abomination in this film, and the tender moment between Frodo and Sam earlier, one can only assume he's doing this over Frodo's feelings. Then he suddenly throws the flowers he picked up into the air for absolutely no reason. I could only shake my head at this.

Then bringing up the rear in this horrible montage is an utterly absurd shot of Boromir sharpening his sword on a rock. They're called whetstones, but one can assume they haven't heard of those in Gondor yet, since they also don’t seem to know what pants, breeches, or leggings are, either. By contrast, behind the scenes of Jackson's trilogy, Viggo Mortensen (Aragorn) actually requested a whetstone and various other tools to make Aragorn's appearance of a nature-hardened ranger more convincing. Suck on that, Bakshi.

Fading away from the nauseatingly bad smurf music and ridiculous lapses in sword caretaking research, the film shifts to the famous Mirror of Galadriel scene, in which Frodo and Sam see "things that were, things that are, and some things that have not yet come to pass". Only, one problem (and I am fully aware of how often I have said that), Bakshi apparently thought that the elves were hippies, because the mirror looks like it's full of dye, like the elves were going to make tie-dye T-Shirts later. This is followed by another discrepancy. What is shown in the mirror is supposed to be as clear as day as distinctly described in the books, but the mirror's surface stays exactly the same throughout the scene, and the hobbits describe what they see, instead of it just being shown to the viewer, like the books and Jackson's later adaptation did.

Then Frodo looks into the mirror once again, and sees a kaleidoscope effect in it. He reaches for it, but Galadriel yells at him not to and then states that the effect is the Eye of Sauron (What?!!). So, Bakshi could afford to create a kaleidoscope effect, but not to draw a cat's eye and then paste it into the scene? Or alternatively, he could have just snapped a picture of an actual cat's eye, and then inserted that, and it would still look better if only for actually being an eye of any sort.

She then announces that Sauron is looking for Frodo and that the Ringwraiths had to return to Mordor after being washed away by Elrond's defensive spell, but will return. In the books, Frodo already knew all of this as this piece of dialogue was presented much, much earlier. So they couldn't just have Gandalf mention this when he was by Frodo's bedside, which would be much more akin to the books? Instead they wait about an hour after the wraiths are gone to bring it up? Oh, the fact that anyone defends this film makes my head hurt.

Back to the film, Galalriel then holds up her hand and shows Frodo and Sam Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, and just like every other show of magic in this film, it is an overdone effect. The Ring actually begins shooting streams of rainbow colors that brings the Care Bear's "Care Bear stare" to one's mind. In the books, the Ring glows once. Then she continues to tell Frodo the obvious, that Sauron will use the Ring to destroy Lothlorien (yeah, I think Frodo caught the gist of that when he was first told that Sauron would "destroy and reform all of Middle Earth to suit his purposes"). So, Frodo offers her the Ring. Yeah, he did this in the book, too, but it was for more well-explained reasons.
Then Galadriel, instead of laughing pleasantly as per the books, laughs patronizingly, telling about how terrible she, a figure of power, would be with the Ring's power. She does so while spinning around like a performer in Swan Lake, before announcing that she passed the test. What test? Bakshi doesn't say, but the test was whether or not she could resist the Ring's effects.

Fade to a short scene of the Fellowship out on three boats before the film quickly cuts to them on the river bank, arguing (again), and this time about whether they will go Gondor or straight to Mordor. Nothing of too much note happens here, other than that the filmmakers skipped a ton.

In the books, Galadriel gave the Fellowship each a gift before leaving. Some of them were vital to the plot, later on. Jackson's trilogy also largely skipped over this, but Frodo at least still received the Veil of Galadriel, which will be used later. Also, Jackson's trilogy reinserted most of the gifts in the Extended Editions. Then there's the fact that the boat ride was actually quit lengthy and took them within Gondor's boundaries after the group passed between Argonath (those two huge statues they on either side of the river).

The group asks Frodo what he wants to do, and he answers that he wants an hour to think it over. For a second time, Bakshi sticks with the books in a clear way that actually works, because the audience has been let in on just enough to know that the Fellowship is, in fact, at a brink here.
Samwise also gets a rare moment of actually sounding like Samwise when he proclaims that he's going wherever Frodo is. Don't let that fool you, the film is actually about to get worse.

So, Frodo goes to think it over, and just about everyone knows what's coming. Boromir shows up, although by this time the audience will probably have forgotten that he even had an infatuation with the Ring to begin with, as any build up or development to this moment has been nonexistent, whereas people reading the original books or viewing Jackson's trilogy could practically see the time bomb that is Boromir slowly ticking down to this moment. He suggests to Frodo that they take the Ring to Minas Tirith, so that he could use it to defend his people. He then begins ranting about the great things he could do with it.

Frodo reminds him that the Ring will corrupt him and tells him that Gandalf and Elrond have refused to even touch the thing (which is blatantly untrue, considering that Gandalf had no problem handling it several times earlier in the film). Boromir scoffs this off and still demands the Ring, and then essentially attacks Frodo to get it when the hobbit refuses again.

Frodo slips it on and makes his escape. Boromir yells more curses, but then trips. This brings him out of his frenzy and he begs Frodo to come back.

This scene almost worked, but as stated, any build up or development towards this was forsaken and the whole thing just seems abrupt and out-of-place to viewers not familiar with Tolkien's story. Another problem was the pacing (again). It doesn't even build anything up while here, either. Not the climax of Boromir's madness and Frodo's escape, or even on the action taking place. The scene just kind of is. That is a really bad thing, because like the Council of Elrond, this is the scene that sets off a chain of events that dictates the rest of the story and takes it in a whole new direction that the reader honestly didn't completely see coming. This was supposed to be a very powerful moment, but instead of triumphant, like when the Fellowship got together, it was intended to invoke an entirely different set of emotions. Emotions like apprehension, fear, intensity, and perhaps a little despair in the knowledge that the side of good has just taken a hit. The reader was sucked right in by this in the book and couldn't wait to see what happens next to remedy this situation. What they don't know is things are actually about to get much, much worse. None of this is conveyed in this scene.

After Frodo disappears and does not come back, Boromir returns to the others and tells them what happened, though he leaves the part out where he tried outright to take the Ring from Frodo. Merry and Pippin run off, looking for Frodo, immediately. Aragorn orders Legolas and Gimli to start searching, too, and then he grabs Boromir, pulls the other man to his feet and demands he helps too, before running off with Samwise following him.

Samwise, however, is unable to keep up and bemoans that he'll never find Frodo in time just using his legs. He declares that he'll have to use his head, instead. Up to this point, Samwise had been portrayed as a complete idiot, so audience suspension of belief that he could think of such a thing is just not there. Had Bakshi just portrayed Samwise as he was in the books, this would not have been a problem. So Samwise runs back to the shore and he finds a boat heading into the water without anyone inside of it. Then Samwise goes the unimaginable. He jumps into the water and swims to the boat. In the book, Sam can't swim and is actually terrified to get into boats. Sam rushing into the river after the boat beyond where his feet could touch was supposed to show that he was even willing to get himself drowned to stick by Frodo’s side.

So Frodo and Sam have their well-known exchange about whether Frodo is going on alone, Sam wins the argument, and the two take off for Mordor, together. In this film, that sounds almost suggestive. Also, we see Gollum following them on the river before the scene ends.

Back with Merry and Pippin. Oh dear, Merry and Pippin. You would actually have to see the film to believe this one. The duo is currently tearing through the woods supposedly looking for Frodo loudly calling his name. Then…and this is where one reviewer justified calling them the 'Idiot Cousins' in this version. They run right into a camp of orcs in a clearing, who were in plain view, by the way. Yes, Merry and Pippin were searching for Frodo, running madly through the flora and without looking ahead of them.

Had this been like in the original book where the orcs sought them out and attacked them, this would have worked. Also, these are not supposed to be orcs. These are Uruk-Hai, half-goblin-half-human hybrids that Saruman bred up through magic so that they could cover great distance quickly and could move in sun light, whereas the typical orc would be sensitive to its rays. Yet, here are the exact same bad orc costumes that were in Moria.

This is where the film also starts to fall apart. There is no animation in this scene at all. The entire cast featured in this shot is live-action actors with outlines, and they are red tinted.

The orcs are about to kill the two, despite that in the books, Saruman wanted the hobbits alive so that he could extract any information he can from them, or perhaps take the Ring from them. Of course, none of this is known, because the audience is never let in on the fact that this particular lot of minions work for this film's Santaman.

Boromir shows up and easily outdoes the orcs with a grace that was not present in Moria for some reason, then heads off with the two in tow. Before they can get far they run right up to a group of orcs armed with arrows that, of course, shoot Boromir. Yes, although the audience just now saw the orcs, the trio here must have seen them from a quite a distance away as they had been running right at them for some time.

Boromir pulls the arrows out and charges the orcs, only to get shot again. Merry and Pippin are taken away by the orcs, and Boromir finally realizes he needs help and pulls out the Horn of Gondor, which has not been featured at all yet. In the books, he makes the group aware of its presence before they even set out from Rivendell. Here in this film, although the thing has been hanging from his belt the entire film, nothing has ever drawn the viewer's attention to it. And when he blows it…apparently there were no stock horn-blowing sounds left over the huge amounts of medieval epics from the old days of cinema for Bakshi to use, because…he used the sound of either a kazoo or a party favor for the horn.

Oddly, the orcs allow him to blow into it a few more times before shooting him again and then taking off. Soon enough, Aragorn finds the dying Boromir who confesses that he tried to take the Ring from Frodo. He then begs Aragorn to save Minas Tirith, and tells him that Merry and Pippin were taken prisoner before dying.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli put Boromir's remains in a boat and send him down the river, where he eventually drifts back towards Minas Tirith. From here they decide to follow the orcs and become the Three Hunters. From here the books enters the territory of the second volume of Tolkien's work, The Lord of the Ring: The Two Towers, having just wrapped up the parts that cover The Fellowship of the Ring. Oh, and the film is an hour and a half over. The film is two hours and fifteen minutes long. Forty-five minutes left. Sadly, Bakshi decided to try to tell most The Two Towers in the remaining time, which means that crucial middle chapter of the book will be bare bones.

Picking where we left off with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli chasing after the Uruk-Kai. And by chase, I of course mean lightly jog after the orcs. Aragorn actually trips over his own sword while still fully animated. Yes, the live-action actor who was rotoscoped over later did this, then an animator saw fit to copy this action frame by frame, and Bakshi, then actually put it in the finished film. The film only gets worse and more headache-inducing from here. Oh, God, please, make the pain go away!

For example, back with Merry and Pippin: the audience finally finds out that the orcs are heading to Isengard, and for some reason are arguing unintelligibly with each other before they take off again. Then the scene cuts the Aragorn and co finding orcs' footprints and following them. Back with the orcs, they are being attacked by the Riders of Rohan, though the viewer does not know that yet, nor are we ever told that they have even reached the Gap of Rohan. Or even what the Gap of Rohan even is which I touched on before about Aragorn's lack of description for it. It is a kingdom of open plains and horseback warriors that neighbors Saruman's lair Isengard, by the way. They’re a lot like benevolent versions of Vikings, only on horseback instead of in boats.

Anyway, back with the orcs and the Riders of Rohan, this is how their battle proceeds: The two sides stand in two long lines facing one another. This goes on for about a five minutes before one rider suddenly kills an orc with an arrow while the remainder of the orcs continue to just stand there and even seem to be cheering the rider. This leaves one to guess that the orc he killed was the group Gomer, or something. Then something even more strange happens, about three orcs try to kill the rider in return, but an orc captain stops them (?!). This goes on for quite a while before Bakshi decided he didn't know what else to do with the scene and shifts it over to the three hunters again briefly.

Suddenly, Merry and Pippin are escaping during an indefinite pause in the battle despite not being given an obvious opportunity to do so while the orcs and Rohirrim continue their ultimate game of a staring contest. The orcs manage to kill one rider who got too close and this drives the rest of the riders into frenzy and they slaughter the orcs. If anyone can point out what the process of getting from whatever Point-A was to whatever Point-B was, I’d be very grateful.

Okay, time to explain what actually happened in the books. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli pursued the orcs, running at full speed to do so for several days and without tripping before entering the Gap of Rohan. The Isengard Uruk-Hai were taking Merry and Pippin to Isengard because they thought that they had an elvish weapon, which Saruman wanted to get his hands on. They meet with some Moria orcs who wanted to make the hobbits pay for what happened in the Mines, but the leader of Uruk-Hai forbade it and the group continued onto Isengard. This was the reason for the argument earlier.
Then orcs and Uruk-Hai were swiftly ambushed by the Riders of Rohan in the dead of night. Merry and Pippin took this opportunity to escape after being dragged away from the group after "bribing" one of the Moria orcs with a promise that he will get the Ring. Then the orc was dispatched by a rider in the chaos and the two escaped into a nearby forest, which is called Fangorn Forest and it lies within the territories of both Rohan and Isengard. How the hell Bakshi reinterpreted this into whatever the hell happened on screen is anyone’s else.

Back to the film, now Merry and Pippin are wandering through Fangorn, without a clue where they are. They comment on how beautiful the forest is, and Treebeard agrees with them. Who's Treebeard? Oh, just the next character introduced in the saga who literally sneaks right up on the two hobbits and into the scene. He picks them up in his arms. Now, for those unfamiliar with Tolkien's mythos altogether, Treebeard is an Ent, which is a living, walking, talking tree, and a shepherd of the forest. Literally, he is a shepherd of the forest. They tend to the other trees that have been brought to life, but retain their entirely tree forms. The hobbits have a discussion with their new friend and he carries them right out the movie (lucky bastards). Merry, Pippin, and newly introduced Treebeard are not seen again in the film. Also take notice, that Treebeard was actually a tree in the original work. In this film, he looks like a giant, brown carrot with a broccoli-like green top. It's difficult to imagine that Bakshi somehow botched this unintentionally. I mean…a tree’s a tree. I’m sure he could look out the windows of his office and find one planted along the sidewalk not far away. You ]have to try to mess drawing and animating a living tree.

On Treebeard: In Volume Two of the saga, The Two Towers, Treebeard actually played a fairly big role in story, because by speaking to Merry and Pippin, he learns all that Sauron and Sarumon have been up to up to date and is then driven to rally all the remaining Ents to storm Isengard, where they defeat Sarumon while the Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli aid the Rohirrim are defeating the forces that the former white wizard sent out to wipe out Rohan. The Ents end up flooding Isengard by breaking a dam that Sarumon had constructed and that floods the entire area, further trapping the wizard inside and drowning every orc in the area. Then the Ents stand guard over the tower for a long time, preventing his escape. Also, not explained in the film, Sarumon had been using trees from Fangorn to fuel the fires of the machines that produced the orc-man-hybrids Urak-Hai.

Meanwhile, back with Frodo and Sam, they are currently climbing down the rope that Samwise attained from Lothlorien in the books, but was left out altogether here. Frodo even takes a moment to explain away the rope as a hand wave. Even more strange, is that two are seen using the rope later, but are not seen retrieving it or it even retrieving itself as it did in the book.

The two journey on for a while longer before Samwise realizes that someone is following them. Frodo confirms that it is Gollum and the two decide to ambush him, or, would have, if Sam didn't rush off ahead of Frodo and try to tackle Gollum himself. In the books, Samwise was intelligent enough to stick with the plan.

Here the audience finally gets their first good look at Gollum, and he still looks like the Grinch after a thorough shaving. Samwise tackles him to the ground from behind. In the process of doing so, Sam’s face ends up buried in Gollum’s butt (?!). The two wrestle with each other until Frodo puts Sting to Gollum's throat, threatening to cut his grinchy throat if he doesn't stop. Gollum complies just long enough for Frodo to put Sting away before making a run for it. Samwise tackles the retreating Grinch again and they wrestle in ways that are more than a little disturbing before Frodo helps Sam just tie him up with the rope that they used to descend the steep cliff earlier, but did not retrieve yet is somehow still with them. Gollum then goes into convulsions about how the rope burns him, although unlike as it was in the books, it is not established how elven made rope could burn a creature so exposed to darkness.

Frodo agrees to let him go if he will guide them into Mordor. Gollum agrees, they release him, and then the three take off with Gollum leading the way. More or less true to what happened in the original, but again, without nearly enough information to understand everything that just happened.

Meanwhile, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are shown following the trek of Merry and Pippin, when suddenly…they see a man with a bedsheet draped over his head. He looks kind of like a member of the KKK who forgot to wash his hood. Unfortunate Implications abound! The three think its Evil Santaman and attack him when he leaps onto a rock in front of them after disappearing for an instant, and he causes their weapons to catch fire and they promptly drop them. In the books, the figure just dodged their attacked and causes Aragorn's sword to heat up just enough that he dropped it, instead of rendering the weapons useless via destroying them. Yet somehow, the weapons come out of this alright. See, he does have the ability to repair weapons at will!

Then, with dramatic flair, the figure pulls his cloak off and…it gets wrapped around his head before he finally manages to tear the thing off. What was intended to be a dramatic and powerful moment now looks like something that would appear in a Mel Brooks film in which drama in built up then deliberated killed with physical comedy. Why was this not corrected during the animation stage, and why did Bakshi keep this in the finished film, just like when Aragorn tripped over his own sword? Did he only have enough film for one take per scene left? Did he really not have enough film to allow for a second take in which the actor successfully gets the hood tossed aside in one go? CHEAP!

After a happy reunion between the former Fellowship members, Gandalf explains what happened to him and the flashback is down via showing a painting of Gandalf battling the Balrog. Neither Gandalf nor the Balrog look anything like they do in this film. Bakshi just took any image of the scene he could get his hands on. Sadly, the painting shown is a vast improvement over anything seen in this film as of yet.

Then, without any explanation, Gandalf orders the group to Edoras, the Capital City of Rohan. Gandalf tells them that the old king of Rohan, Theoden, is now entirely dependent on his advisor, Grima Wormtongue. In the book, and I am fully aware of just how many times I have said that by now, this was foreshadowed as far back as the Council of Elrond when Gandalf tells how he had trouble getting a horse from the Rohirrim and ended up having to take what they thought was a wild and non-trainable horse, but was revealed to Shadowfax, Lord of All Horses. Rohan's allegiance was even put into question during that scene. Yes, I know this part was omitted from a Jackson’s version, too, but it was made up for later.

Cue a short scene of Evil Santaman giving his Uruk-Hai army a morale boosting speech and gives them their orders. Grima Wormtongue is visibly by this side, which was never the case in the books. Evidently, Bakshi didn't think that the audience could figure out that Grima was secretly working with Evil Santamon on their own. Then again, given his likely souring experience with the people who made him change Sarumon to Arumon, this may actually be somewhat justified.

Back with Gandalf and company, they are all riding horses that came out of nowhere. In the books, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli had a near confrontation with Theoden's nephew, Eomer, while he was out on patrol. In an act of faith in the face of growing danger and suspicion, he gave up two horses has who lost their riders and bid them look for their friends. He was also the man in charge of ambushing the Uruk-Hai that were taking Merry and Pippin to Isengard, so he was also able to tell Aragorn the way to the sight of the battle, which is how the trio even ended up back on the trail of the hobbits so quickly. Not that this film lets the audience in on any of this like the books did.

Also, after fulfilling these tasks, Eomer is arrested and imprisoned. In this version, Eomer is simply banished, but continues to aid Rohan in a fashion similar to Robin Hood by ambushing any orc armies that pass through. This is established in some dialogue Gandalf gives out. Also in the books, Eomer is quickly released from his bondage and joins Theoden from the point when Grima Wormtongue is expelled from Rohan on.

Anyway, the whole point of freeing Theoden from Grima's grip in the books is that the fight against Sauron needed more allies to join Gondor and the other kingdoms that oppose him. It was also the right thing to do, and now that Gandalf was figured out what is happening in Rohan, he will remedy the situation. Well, that's the book's explanation, anyway. Here, it just looks like Gandalf is simply trying to save Rohan from Evil Santaman without any mention of the proverbial chess he’s caught in with Sauron.

As explained in the Appendix at the end of The Return of the King, Gandalf is a tactical genius who long foresaw Sauron’s return. He even went as far as mobilizing Bilbo and the dwarves 67 years earlier to retake the Lonely Mountain so there would be a powerful stronghold in that region when Sauron began his invasion once again. Yes, the events of The Hobbit were all a part of Gandalf's gambit. Of course, he only exacts these gambits if it also helps the individuals aside from the grander scheme as well. The people of Lake Town, which was near to the Lonely Mountain, were freed of the fear of Smaug the dragon and reclaimed Dale, Bilbo and the dwarves grew as individuals, and everyone ended up better for it, so Gandalf's moves are not only just to get the job done at any cost. They are beneficial on both the small and grand scale. Not that any of this comes through in Bakshi's vision.

Anyway, the group now enters Edoras and barge into Theoden's throne room where Theoden is. No Captain Hama at the front entrance or anything that would make sense like that. No, no. Gandalf frees Theoden of Grima's grip and the little Jawa is chased away. Yes, Grima looks like one of the Jawas from the original Star Wars. Too bad he couldn't also be dealt with by Stormtroopers.

Also of note, Eowyn, Theoden's niece and younger sister of Eomer, is not given any lines despite her prominent presence in the books as the one who kept the women and children safe from the invading Uruk-Hai when the 10 thousand Sarumon sent out were unleashed. She also defeats the leader of the Nazgul after saving her uncle from becoming a Fell Beast's dinner. Oh well, at least the latter was restored in Rankin-Bass's The Return of the King.

Theoden immediately agrees with Gandalf and the Riders head out right away to Helm's Deep, a fortress where they will be able to fend off the invading Uruk-Hai. Gandalf takes his leave to go find Eomer, leaving the three hunters and Theoden to their own devices. In the books, Gandalf was riding off to find the lords in other areas of Rohan to get them to render aid because Eomor was already with them. The Jackson films also had this unfortunate deviation, but more on that at a later time.

Meanwhile, back with Frodo, Sam, and The Grinch, this trio is currently heading through what is supposed to pass for the swamps of the dead, which was a secret path that only Gollum knew. As expected, a Ringwraith with an upgraded flying steed passed over the swamp and begins circling overhead, having momentarily sensed the Ring before continuing on its way to its current task. Of course, it just looks like the wraith did a shoddy job of searching the area here, as there is no explanation that the wraith as on an errand, as Tolkien helpfully explained in the books. The three hide until the wraith disappears and quickly continue on their way.

Later, as the two hobbits sleep, Gollum tosses and turns as the two sides of his personality fight over what they should do with the hobbits. Eventually, the two warring sides decide to call a compromise, and instead of outright killing them or not killing them, Gollum will lead the two hobbits to "her". "She" is never shown or detailed in this version, but as most will know, the "her" in question is Shelob, the Great Spider.

Back with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Who are already at Helm's Deep. The trio observes a pack of dogs that Bakshi tries to pass off as wargs, the giant wolves the orcs ride. Then the sky turns blood red, bringing imagery of the apocalypse from the book of Revelation to mind, and the orcs march over a hill in a big group, though nowhere near the promised ten thousand.

The Battle of Helm's Deep breaks out and from here on out, aside from a few animated characters mixed in the middle every now and then, the film is entirely live-action, but filmed through various odds colors and other odd effects. Bakshi also lifts the battle footage of a film titled Aleksandr Nevskiy for this scene. Arrows are fired, people of both sides die, ladders are lifted then knocked down, and swords are swung. The scene plays out like any other battle scene only more incoherent. I won't comment on how the battle actually might have looked in its original film, because Bakshi probably had to cut and paste it all straight to hell to make it work, but it does look terrible here. In fact, the only thing of interest here is some orcs using a battering ram on a wall when the gate is right next to them. That’s like something the French from Monty Python’s The Holy Grail] would have done!

Then, the unimaginable happens, from where he's standing in Isengard, Evil Santaman fires blue rays of energy with blue or orange scribbly lines dancing around inside of them at Helm's Deep. This blows the wall. In the books, the orcs just used gunpowder, which Saruman invented for this battle.

The Rohirrim and the trio retreat into the caves and are soon cornered there by the orcs, but Theoden announces that he will not be "caught like some badger in a hole", and decides to make a last stand. Aragorn agrees to go along with this, although it will likely result in their deaths. In the books, again, this was a powerful moment of the side of good facing overwhelming darkness because they refuse to give into it, but here…here, the audience can only react with apathy once more.

The film fades back to Frodo and Sam, Sam is concerning himself with the food supply, and asks how they'll keep it up after reaching Mount Doom. The way figures he it, they have just enough to get there. To this, Frodo replies that they shouldn't worry about it, and just concentrate on getting there. Then Frodo bemoans how heavy the Ring is weighing on his spirit, with his eyes downcast as if actually feeling heavy. A moment of awkward silence follows before Samwise actually gets up and walks away, whistling to himself! Frodo reacts with a surprisingly appropriate bewildered look. Well, at least he knows who his friends are and aren’t now.

Anyway, Gollum reappears in all his grinchy glory, and bids the hobbits to follow him to the secret stairs, although this passage he speaks of has yet to be identified. Perhaps it's time for Samwise to use his mind-reading abilities again. The three of them get a move on again, and that was the last scene of Frodo, Sam, or the Grinch…er, Gollum, in this film. As stated, Bakshi tried to tell all of Two Towers, but didn't quite get it done. Oh well, this was only supposed to encompass one part of the story, anyway, but now would be a good time to mention that the posters of this film only ever head The Lord of the Rings, which had most who came to see this thinking that the entire story would be told in this film. The audiences were in for a jarring disappointment within a few minutes from this point.

Also, although Bakshi might have been intending to do this in Part Two: in the books Frodo, Sam, and Gollum encounter a party of Gondor soldiers and rangers from the same order as Aragorn around this time. They are led by Faramir, the younger brother of Boromir, who aids them on their journey, instead of doing as his father, Denethur wished, which would require him bringing back the Ring to Gondor. After this encounter they enter the secret passage into Mordor and Gollum springs his trap on the hobbits in Shelob's Lair. Here Frodo is poisoned and sent into a coma then captured by orcs. Samwise took the Ring and all of Frodo's other important belongings, thinking his master to be dead and that he would have to carry on the quest, alone. However, upon discovering that Shelob only knocks her victims out by listening to the orcs talk, he decides to instead sneak into the fortress where they took Frodo and save his master. The book leaves off on that cliffhanger.

Meanwhile, back at this film's Helm's Deep: Theoden and company make their last stand by riding out and meeting the invading Uruk-Hai who have taken the fortress. Although who exactly is winning at this point is still, somehow, unclear. Thankfully, a bunch of orcs materialize around the heroes to clarify the situation and they slowly tighten the circle. For some reason or another, the music is playing heroically, contradicting the hopelessness of the situation at hand for Aragorn and co. Also, Theoden smiles at an approaching orc (?!).

Just then, Gandalf, followed by Eomer and his men arrive riding down the hill and single-handedly save the day. Then, despite the PG rating, Gandalf begins hacking Uruk-Hai, who bleed quite graphically as Gandalf cuts them all down.

The advance on the Uruk-Hai continues until they retreat, and that moment of before mentioned jarring disappointment comes about. The narrator from the beginning of the film says this as it shows Gandalf riding side by side with Theoden, Aragorn, and the rest:

"The forces of Darkness were driven forever from the face of Middle Earth by the valiant friends of Frodo! As their gallant battle ended, so too ends the first great tale of... The Lord of the Rings!"

The End. Yes, really. The film ends right there. The Ents do not defeat Evil Santaman, they do not imprison him in his own power, Gandalf, Aragorn and co do not go to the tower to confront Saruman and end up leaving with his Palintir (a crystal-like device not introduced in this adaptation), and with Merry and Pippin now rescued and in tow. That. Is. It.

Also, the line, "The Forces of Darkness were driver forever from the face of Middle Earth…" is just inaccurate so entirely that...that...it-It Burns! It freezes ussss!!!! I would love to see how the siege of Gondor by said Forces of Darkness was going to be justified in Part Two if they were forever driven from its face. Or heck, how does one victory in a far off kingdom suddenly make Sauron and his HQ for the Forces of Darkness, Mordor, cease to exist.

Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings Conclusion:

How does Ralph Bakshi's rendering of The Lord of the Rings hold up and how well did it adapt the epic work to the big screen? It doesn't hold up well by today's standards, and it is doubtful that even held up during 1978, in which much better animated films had been released. It also does not do a very good job of adapting Tolkien's books to the big screen, at all.

When the film was first released, it came with much advertising and publicity in which a lot of interesting facts about the film were publicized for audiences to see to try to get them excited about it. As stated, one fact that was not made public knowledge was that this was supposed to be Part One of Two. It was simply titled, The Lord of the Rings. While some advocate for Bakshi in that he argued with the studio over this, he still had some cards in play in-film to tip the audience off, like slipping the "Part One" into the title when it firsts appears in the credits. That would still not have fixed the situation entirely, but it would still have been something.


The first part of the film was reasonable enough, it was mostly animated, with only a few hints of the low budget sneaking through, and it followed the book...basically, anyway. However, all the charm and personality of all the characters is sacrificed, most of their back stories and motives are entirely left out, as are important plot details, and some characters get completely shafted by having their stories changed completely. Like with Legolas being reduced from the being the frikkin prince of frikkin Mirkwood to being frikkin Elrond's frikkin servant. The impact this has on the film is that it becomes very confusing.

Then about an hour and half in the budget finally must have started to run dry and on top of that, the filmmakers just gave up on trying to adequately tell the story. So then the whole disjointed mess ends with an abrupt and nonsensical closing narration and the ending credits roll. The music is monotonous and rarely matches the relevant scene, and the backgrounds, instead of using the highly sophisticated techniques of the multi-laired camera, are simply Matte paintings with surreal usage of colors inserted.

In any case, Bakshi was not allowed to finish this work and it was given over to Rankin-Bass to complete as a TV movie, simply titled The Return of the King.

[Sonic#]

As someone who loves, Tolkien, and someone who likes Bakshi with some reservations, I didn't really like this recap.

It was too long for me to read every part. You make it out to be a recap, but that is in tension with its being a review as well, and oftentimes your judgments on perceived inconsistencies take precedence over describing the film. In a sense it's an inefficient critique. Yes, there are bad things to be said about the Bakshi Lord of the Rings, and there are things to be said about its fidelity to the material (good and bad). There are also really innovative techniques being used, and there are a lot of people that love the Bakshi version, Peter Jackson among them. I wish it were more analytical of the merits of the film, and less judgmental about each little perceived inconsistency.

There's also an assumption here I disagree with. I do not think that an adaptation has to maintain every detail of the work and world that it adapts. Your tracking of differences could do a better job of thinking about what changes are necessary and what aren't. Mispronouncing Celeborn is sloppy; changing the origin story of the rings is unnecessary but doesn't affect the consistency of the film; not explaining every motive in the way a book would is something many films do.

To focus on two points as examples where you're just being unfair:

For example, the filmmakers completely neglect to call Gandalf "Gandalf the Grey", and have him in bright blue.

"He had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots""

http://i.imgur.com/DQno97R.jpg

Gandalf's depiction is actually rather accurate.

It doesn't hold up well by today's standards, and it is doubtful that even held up during 1978, in which much better animated films had been released. It also does not do a very good job of adapting Tolkien's books to the big screen, at all.

It was a financial success in 1978. Even many reviews that disliked the film admitted that it was visually impressive and innovative in technique. The quality is uneven, the charm unevenly experienced, but as an animated work it was much more innovative and daring than what was coming out. (The visual styles of Black Beauty and Watership Down were both good, but not fantastic.) One reviewer even says it directly:

The film's principal reward is a visual experience unlike anything that other animated features are doing at the moment.

The quality of adaptation is uneven. I'll grant you that. Ambitious but underfunded; dazzling and undisciplined; not everyone's cup of tea. You give its good qualities really short shrift though.

[LunarRaptor]

Well, that's your opinion on my recap. And Bakshi's career can stay in the hellhole it's landed in for all I care. These aren't just "perceived" inconsistences, THEY ARE INCONSISTENCIES. I described the film efficiently enough. There are NO good things to be said about this film. No, the techniques used were not innovative. They looked horrible and I'm glad animation of this kind never became a big thing. I'm suppose to care who likes the Bakshi version...why? I was analytical enough, and there are only flaws to be had. This film HAD no strong points and I do an excellent job of explaining why. This abomination of cinema was a train wreck from beginnng to end.

I never said that it had to maintain every detail perfectly. I never said that they had to explain each and every motivation, but they don't explain ANY of them in this film! Entire characters backstories that are integral to the plot are left out, for crying out loud! Bilbo's motivation for leaving The Shire is VERY important and needed to be explained, but wasn't. Who is Samwise? Why does he care about Mr. Frodo? We never find as far as this film is concerned. I defy you to adequately describe a single character or tell me why they do any of the things they do going just by this film's presentation of them. I also found it annoying that Gandalf's colors are right there in his name, but they chose to ignore it. This film neither visually impressive on any level or innovative. Disney, HE was innovative. The quality is low through and through and there is no charm. I originally went into this film with an open mind, years and years ago, and was UTTERLY repulsed by everything that the film showed on screen. The only thing I wanted was a halfway decent film that adequately portrayed Tolkien as it's preceding film, Rankin-Bass's The Hobbit, did. All I got from this film was crap. The quality of adaptation was very poor from start to finish. There are no good qualities present here.

And Joseph Geimis can eat me. This film offered nothing of that principal. There was no reward as a visual experience. It was an ugly piece that soullessly took Tolkien's words and plastered them on-screen without care. Ambitious? Don't make me laugh. This film, if anything, is an example of "if you can't do it right, don't do it at all". Dazzling? Yeah, if you're high.

There is only one good adaptation of Tolkien's big book, and that's Jackson's.

[Sonic#]

tl;dr - A Tolkien fan who dislikes Bakshi's Lord of the Rings argues that the above recap is in poor form.

First, a critique of your tone. It's particularly belligerent. A couple of your statements are personal attacks, and are thus difficult to take seriously.

And Bakshi's career can stay in the hellhole it's landed in for all I care.
And Joseph Geimis can eat me.

Even if you dislike someone's work, even if you believe it has no merit, these are callous things to say. In some realms these are fighting words; here, they're just petty. The point on Bakshi is also ill-informed - he founded his own school of animation, continues to be critically acclaimed and studied, and is working on an animated film right now. His career is hardly in a hellhole.

The second point, related to tone, is to wonder what the point of this is? Why write so many paragraphs in hate of a film? What is your perceived audience? To address the last question, a post this long is likely only to satisfy a subset of those who agree with you and are also uncritical about Tolkien. Tolkien fans will dislike your work because you are factually incorrect at several points; Bakshi fans will dislike your work because it's very uninformed about his contributions to animation; many people who dislike Bakshi will find little of added value here, since it amounts to wasting more attention on something they dislike.

Third, it's not good analysis. It's not analytical, certainly not in the way a film critic or literary critic would recognize. Narrative and visual analysis consists of discussing a work by breaking down the features of a portion of interest into parts and studying their importance to the whole. A general question might be: what meaning do they convey and how do they construct that meaning? One particular technique, close reading, involves paying very close attention to different forms (genre, stanza, syntax, words) and detailing how a work produces meanings and ambiguities. These forms of analysis can then extend to making a point about the work itself and how it works with culture. In contrast, most of your work is a comparative summary, interspersed with bitter diatribe. That is okay - a recap doesn't have to be an analysis. On the other hand, there isn't much here that someone could have gotten from here that's better than just watching the movie. It would even avoid the clear interpretive bias you have.

Fourth, your application of Tolkien here is riddled with errors and (as I mentioned earlier) inconsistent on signalling the importance of accuracy. One error: I quoted Tolkien, who says that Gandalf has a blue hat, a silver sash, a grey cloak, and a long white beard. That's just what appears in the film. That part is faithful to Tolkien to a fault. Perhaps your confusion is influenced by seeing the grey as bluish? (Understandable error; the grey has a very slight blue shift on some of its pixels sometimes, while other pixels are more clay or gravel. Still grey.)

I can also scroll through and find other errors (including some that seem to consist of confusing Jackson's version with Tolkien's). A couple of illustrations, since otherwise it gets really mundane.

In the books, the orcs just used gunpowder, which Saruman invented for this battle.

Tolkien doesn't specify that Saruman is using gunpowder to blow up the wall at Helm's Deep. After a blare of trumpets, the culvert is blown open. Aragorn merely refers to it as "devilry of Saruman!" and "the fire of Orthanc." Based on the text, its origins could equally well be magical or technological in origin.

Cue a short scene of Evil Santaman giving his Uruk-Hai army a morale boosting speech and gives them their orders. Grima Wormtongue is visibly by this side, which was never the case in the books. Evidently, Bakshi didn't think that the audience could figure out that Grima was secretly working with Evil Santamon on their own. Then again, given his likely souring experience with the people who made him change Sarumon to Arumon, this may actually be somewhat justified.

Of course, the bigger gap here is that Tolkien never shows us Saruman giving a morale-boosting speech. Whether Wormtongue is there or not seems like small shrift.

I am aware that it is easy to see all of this as merely my opinion (an error, given the evidence I'm using - this copy of LOTR beside me). However, I'm replying rather than ignoring this because, as someone who likes good criticism and good recaps, I feel compelled to point out how it's falling short. That would be okay if you were not aiming to do analysis, or if you recognized (as this better-written recap does) your own bias and turned all your derision wittily towards the film, rather than making all the petty shots at Bakshi and Bakshi lovers. Furthermore, if you are going to ridicule someone for getting the facts wrong, get the facts right. I wouldn't have been nitpicky about the facts you used if you hadn't been so nitpicky about Bakshi in the wrong places.

There's a lot to be said about Bakshi's Lord of the Rings. I agree it's a bad film, though I partly think it's bad because it tried to hew close to the text in more places you acknowledged, and broke from that conformity at several odd points. Its quality is uneven - some parts *are* visually impressive. I even agree that Bakshi is not often my cup of tea. Given that I'm mostly inclined to agree with your assessment of the film, I hope you realize why this recap has little merit.

[Werefrog]

Guys, I don't know what's going on here.

[LunarRaptor]

That's right, your critique is an opinion. Nothing more, nothing less. And no, nothing in this film is visually impressive. I will stand by that stance beyond the end of time. Blah blah blah, I got a few things wrong. Big deal. Oh, and I did get most of the facts right. Excuse me for not being perfect.

Ugh. The thought that Bakshi is teaching other people how to animate makes me fear for the future of animation. Oh, and that "animated movie" has been in production hell since the 90s. It is NEVER getting made. And there is nothing to be said for this film. Another statement I will take to and beyond the grave with me. If someone wants to study an animator, they should study Disney. He will eternally be better than Bakshi.

Bakshi's "contributions to animation". He has made no meaningful contributions to animation. The only thing he's done for (or rather, against) animation is furthering the idea that Western Animation is either just for kids or full of crude humor and sex with very little in between.

Of course, the bigger gap here is that Tolkien never shows us Saruman giving a morale-boosting speech. Whether Wormtongue is there or not seems like small shrift.

I was referring to what the film was showing us and the film alone.

Oh, and you can be nitpicky all you want, but because you were, good luck ever getting me to concede ever one point.

[Sonic#]

I don't need you to concede even one point. Nor do I need a petty vendetta. I'm not the one talking bad about other people. The original posts are petty and extremely nitpicky, and it's little surprise that the only attempts to engage with this topic have been either suitably petty (my own nitpicking about facts), trying to find ways to improve their pettiness into a more analytical mode (most of my first post, part of my second, and part of this post), or wondering what the hell this exchange is about. I am sorry you feel the need to beat up an animator on an online forum. I suggest you find a more meaningful hobby or direct your zeal towards positive examples. Support the stuff you love. Hating just makes you sound like a dick, and I don't think you are one.

One point, for others' reference if you are too deaf to take heed:

I was referring to what the film was showing us and the film alone.

If you were only referring to the film, the way I read it should provide a clue to how you might improve this in future drafts. Namely, you need to better signal when you're talking about the film alone, and be careful not to refer to the book when you're talking about the film. Furthermore, you need to develop a clearer theory for when it is appropriate to deviate from the book and when it is inappropriate to do so, and clearly signal that in your analysis - otherwise, you're doing nitpicking even worse than I did!

Guys, I don't know what's going on here.

I mistook a diatribe for a sincere effort towards a film analysis.

[LunarRaptor]

Again, your opinion. All other feedback I've gotten has been very positive, and from people who have a lot of experience in writing.

[Sonic#]

^ Again, my opinion has been well-founded. Your insistence on calling it an opinion (when your writing is "opinion" on the same grounds) instead of engaging what I say shows a poor handling of criticism. As for the other feedback you got, I would welcome your citing it. As someone with a lot of experience in writing myself, I am interested to see what they say about your writing, since the style here is pretty rough and your diatribes against particular elements and Bakshi himself are petty and peculiar. (The one place I can find, My Little Pony Lexicon, only talks about the films, and doesn't address the writing. Oh, and I guess there's the original piece you copy and pasted from, but there were no reviews there.)

[LunarRaptor]

I find it very difficult to believe that you could not find the other places its been posted. Try Gang of Five forums and Valhalla Online.

[Sonic#]

Believe it. I don't have unlimited time to trawl search results, which is why I asked for a link. (And I still can't find Valhalla Online.)

I will say readily that some sections of your writing are pretty decent. How you've posted it in other places, I like what you write about adaptation, for example. I even like some of the observations you make about this adaptation. The issue is that your overall framing for the Bakshi recap is argumentative instead of observational (as recap suggests). And the crux of the argument is attacking Bakshi, which takes away any balance that would otherwise be there. (Hence my calling it diatribe - you don't recognize Bakshi's place in animation, which exists whether you like him or not. You put your dislike for him ahead of your recognition of his role in animation. You call him "-Dragon Diamond-," which takes away from your credibility as a balanced observer. You put your hate of him ahead of looking at what the film does - and the two are not equivalent.) Furthermore, it goes from recap or overview to nitpicking very fine details. At the best, it's alright, but when the details are rather trivial, particularly targeted against Bakshi without good reason, or incorrect, of course I don't like it. Rather than selecting the best examples for an argument, or producing a synopsis that is light on the sniping, you talk about everything and try to turn it against someone you hate. That doesn't work.

Of course, the further issue is that you don't take criticism well.

Looking briefly at the comments, on Gang of Five there were about two people enthusiastically commenting on the piece. They didn't give much critical feedback either good or bad. They were cheerleaders, which isn't a bad thing, but not my approach. Given that I'm reading the piece from the middle, reading to critically praise or suggest improvements, and perhaps starting with the worst part of the entire project, it's little wonder I'm less impressed with the writing. .

[Alunissage]

Hey Sonic, I've been interested reading your comments on criticism (having been through some of this when people ask for feedback on their drawings and the like), but do you suppose you could use a smaller image or turn it into a link or something? It's stretched out the window to the point that I have to maximize the browser to be able to read an entire line of text without scrolling and even then over half the sidebar is offscreen.

This whole thing is reminding me of a rather long post I wrote here (I think?) when I saw the Phantom of the Opera movie complaining bitterly about nearly everything in it. I'll have to find that and reread it. I don't think I styled it as anything more objective than venting, though, in response to Phyco's innocent question of why I didn't like the movie.

But yes, given the subject line I was expecting something more like a summary, with perhaps brief notes about necessary changes between versions, etc., rather than an enraged diatribe. Thread title probably should've been "Why I hate Ralph Bakshi". (N.b., haven't seen this, and never cared much for the books, an opinion not helped by the two Jackson movies I did see. So I didn't try actually reading the original posts much, as they wouldn't mean much to me; it's the conversation on criticism that interests me.)

[LunarRaptor]

I am not blinded to what Bakshi's film did. It butchered the material it was supposed to be adapting. Take the scene at Bad-End's fireplace, for instance. Gandalf tosses the ring into the fire and then takes it back out (with his bare hands, I will add) and gives it back to Frodo. And what comes of this? The ring stayed cool in the fire. There is no reference to the markings that were supposed to appear on the ring and Gandalf just starts chanting the rhyme that's suppsoed to be written on it for no reason. The ENTIRE MOVIE is like this! No, I will not respect a work that I do not respect. The film is a horrid mess from start to finish and I will not be budged from anything I've said about it or the man who made it. Nor will I respect a man I do not respect. Bakshi has gone on record comparing animation to graffiti, calling it interesting but hollow. You expect an animation enthusiast like me to respect that? Get real.

I am well aware of his "contributions" to animation, and they are nothing special or meaningful. Animation would be much the same as it is today with or without him "help". I do not recognize his place in animation's history, because there is nothing to recognize. He's a just man who made cheap animation and added in boobs and drugs. In the grand scheme of things, his existance in a non-issue. You want me to talk about important figures to animation, I give you Walt Disney, Chuck Jones, Tex Avery, Bob Clampett, Henry Selick, Nick Park, John Lasseter, Brad Bird, Bruce Timm, Greg Weisman, Wolfgang Reitherman, Les Clark, Frank Thomas, John Lounsbery, Marc Davis, Ollie Johnston, Milt Kahl, Ward Kimball, Eric Larson, and Don Bluth and Gary Goldman. THOSE are names to be recognized in animation.

[Sonic#]

I am not blinded to what Bakshi's film did. It butchered the material it was supposed to be adapting.

That is your opinion. It's not a descriptive opinion, in the sense that it doesn't describe the film. It's not a fair recap of the film. If other people are able to see some good work in Bakshi's Lord of the Rings, someone doing analysis or criticism has a responsibility to respond to that criticism, to acknowledge its points where necessary and to disagree where necessary. You need to also analyze your own aesthetic preferences and present them in a clear manner. Frankly, it requires a better temperament. Saying they "can eat [you]" - that's not it. And if you really cannot approach this material in a critical manner, why don't you write recaps of things you like?

As for your comments on Bakshi, they're simply out of step with what animation historians already recognize. He is important to the history of animation. Arguing against them using primarily ad hominem just makes you look out of touch. His importance isn't my opinion; rather, historians and animators recognize him as important - that's Mark Arnold's, Chuck Jones's, Maureen Furniss's, Leonard Maltin's, Don Bluth, and many others. Oh, and don't let Bob Clampett know that he posthumously received the same award as Ralph Bakshi for groundbreaking work in animation. Anger could also be interpreted as flattery - if you feel the need to write so much about him, he must be important. Your nonrecognition of any of the points made about his importance doesn't make you seem edgy or right - it makes you seem like you're outside of the critical discourse. It makes you look ignorant of the history of animation.

Bakshi has gone on record comparing animation to graffiti, calling it interesting but hollow. You expect an animation enthusiast like me to respect that? Get real.

I can't find that quote. I have seen references to his hiring graffiti artists and training them in animation. The results seem mixed.

But yes, given the subject line I was expecting something more like a summary, with perhaps brief notes about necessary changes between versions, etc., rather than an enraged diatribe. Thread title probably should've been "Why I hate Ralph Bakshi". (N.b., haven't seen this, and never cared much for the books, an opinion not helped by the two Jackson movies I did see. So I didn't try actually reading the original posts much, as they wouldn't mean much to me; it's the conversation on criticism that interests me.)

(Image fixed to link)
I agree with the suggestion that this essay should not pretend to be a recap, analysis, or anything other than diatribe. If it had been presented that way, I probably would not have read it, and would not have replied. On the other hand, it's providing a good exercise for talking about what criticism should do, things like: explain and contextualize an art object; perhaps make a balanced and supported claim of value to a field as a whole; join a discourse of people talking about the topic.

[LunarRaptor]

That is your opinion.

No, it's fact. Look at the movie, and then look at the book. I very plainly explained how this film butchered the material.

It's not a descriptive opinion, in the sense that it doesn't describe the film.

It perfectly describes the film.

It's not a fair recap of the film. If other people are able to see some good work in Bakshi's Lord of the Rings, someone doing analysis or criticism has a responsibility to respond to that criticism, to acknowledge its points where necessary and to disagree where necessary.

People who defend this film are defending Ralph Bakshi, not Tolkien. I have never had an argument with any Bakshi supporters who spared to single thought to Tolkien's work.

You need to also analyze your own aesthetic preferences and present them in a clear manner. Frankly, it requires a better temperament. Saying they "can eat [you]" - that's not it. And if you really cannot approach this material in a critical manner, why don't you write recaps of things you like?

I did just fine, thank you very much.

As for your comments on Bakshi, they're simply out of step with what animation historians already recognize. He is important to the history of animation. Arguing against them using primarily ad hominem just makes you look out of touch. His importance isn't my opinion; rather, historians and animators recognize him as important - that's Mark Arnold's, Chuck Jones's, Maureen Furniss's, Leonard Maltin's, Don Bluth, and many others. Oh, and don't let Bob Clampett know that he posthumously received the same award as Ralph Bakshi for groundbreaking work in animation. Anger could also be interpreted as flattery - if you feel the need to write so much about him, he must be important. Your nonrecognition of any of the points made about his importance doesn't make you seem edgy or right - it makes you seem like you're outside of the critical discourse. It makes you look ignorant of the history of animation.

Name one. Name me one thing that Bakshi did that was important to animation. Go ahead.

Let's see, no one working in animation today takes any meaningful inspiration from his "style". Everything that is animation today has come from the true masters of the craft, who I listed. Groundbreaking work in animation? Don't make me laugh. His animation was cheap, all the techniques he used already existed and were done far better than he ever could do with them, and his only true successes (and I say that in the loosest of terms) can be counted with one hand without running out of fingers. All he did was make films that weren't family friendly. Between him and Matt Groening, I don't know who I blame more for helping to perpetuate this idea that animation is either for kiddies or for it's only full of "adult" humor. My nonrecognition of any of the points made about his important means that there is nothing to recognize. There isn't. For all your insistence that he's important to animation, you have yet to even try so much as pulling out a shred of evidence.

The quote: "The art of cartooning is vulgarity. The only reason for cartooning to exist is to be on the edge. If you only take apart what they allow you to take apart, you're Disney. Cartooning is a low-class, for-the-public art, just like graffiti art and rap music. Vulgar but believable, that's the line I kept walking."

Now do you see why this man disgusts me so? Seriously, Bakshi, just retire and let people with actual talent work.

[Sonic#]

For all your insistence that he's important to animation, you have yet to even try so much as pulling out a shred of evidence.

What better way to admit you aren't reading what I link to.

My links to statements made by a number of animation historians and animators is evidence. So is my link to the animation history page on Wikipedia. I could open any book that purports to represent the history of animation, and Bakshi would likely be there. I've consulted contemporary reviews and other later recaps. Evidence is in abundance. Your obvious bias against him prevents you from recognizing my evidence.

One more piece - I don't think they'd print Ralph Bakshi's name on the back of the "Who's Who in Animated Cartoons" if he were irrelevant.

No, it's fact.

For someone that called my statements opinion, you don't have a very good grasp of what opinion is. An evaluative judgment is an opinion. When it is done very well with fidelity towards the relevant commentators and the evidence, it's criticism. When it is primarily charged by a positive or negative bias for or against the creator, it is diatribe. Your work is not criticism. It is diatribe.

Nor is this a perfect description of the film at all. Even were your "recap" a recap, such a statement is bald arrogance - no one can perfectly describe something in another medium. (Adaptation being a translation between media.) Given the fact that a large part of your argument involves comparing it with Tolkien and applying a poorly-elaborated standard for comparison, it doesn't even purport to perfectly describe the film. Given that many of these comparisons are made for the purpose of attacking Bakshi, the recap describes your attitude towards the creator better than it describes the work. That's bad criticism - you took your eye off the ball.

And it's nice to know you think attacking other people is doing just fine. Just don't pretend for a moment that such acts of attack have any merit. Once again, they make you look petty.

People who defend this film are defending Ralph Bakshi, not Tolkien.

Even people who like Bakshi often don't defend this film. I don't defend this film. What they tend to admit is that the film - any film - has things it does well, even if it's to say that the film failed in general nonetheless.

Your statement is short-sighted though, because while you are attacking Bakshi, you're also slighting Tolkien with your factual errors. More importantly, you're slighting Tolkien himself (the medieval literature scholar) by pretending that your diatribe is any kind of criticism. He would not abide such intellectual dishonesty.

Let's see, no one working in animation today takes any meaningful inspiration from his "style".

That's simply not true, something you acknowledge later in the paragraph when you acknowledge the influence of Bakshi and Groening on animation. He had a substantial influence on the independent animation scene of the 1960s and 1970s, filtering through many artists like Don Bluth. He substantially influenced people like John K., as well as the model of creator-driven animation in the 1980s that gave rise to big names like Genndy Tartakovsky. The Museum of Modern Art isn't archiving his work for nothing. Thus, yes, lots of people are influenced by him.

The quote: "The art of cartooning is vulgarity. The only reason for cartooning to exist is to be on the edge. If you only take apart what they allow you to take apart, you're Disney. Cartooning is a low-class, for-the-public art, just like graffiti art and rap music. Vulgar but believable, that's the line I kept walking."

Now do you see why this man disgusts me so?

I like that quote, and I love animation. I think that animation can be high art. Bakshi isn't saying that cartooning is horrible. He's saying that the medium is edgy, that it has popular appeal ("for-the-public"). That it, for him, is low art but good art, with its pulse on what is "believable," what really affects us in our day to day lives. It's also "vulgar," which I suppose to you means naughty or adult. Here, it's rather like writing in barbarian tongues was to late Romans - popular but judged unrefined. Animation has had to fight hard to earn some respect as an art form, and even today it has the knots of that fight - it's far more than mainstream. Cool enough - I think animation is *more* than he says it is, but there's nothing that offends me about what he says.

Nor is he calling it graffiti. A comparison is not a statement of equality. He even states the basis of his comparison earlier in the sentence, the fact that all of these mediums have popular appeal to low classes. The implicit assumption by calling these arts is that they still have substantial technical merit. Graffiti and street murals have their own forms, and are generally considered an art form of their own. Rap has its own forms, and is generally considered a technically robust form of music. Those elements of street sophistication is what Bakshi's quote is appealing to.

[LunarRaptor]

My links to statements made by a number of animation historians and animators is evidence. So is my link to the animation history page on Wikipedia. I could open any book that purports to represent the history of animation, and Bakshi would likely be there. I've consulted contemporary reviews and other later recaps. Evidence is in abundance. Your obvious bias against him prevents you from recognizing my evidence.

One more piece - I don't think they'd print Ralph Bakshi's name on the back of the "Who's Who in Animated Cartoons" if he were irrelevant.

And there are books out there about getting girls with witchcraft. It'll take a lot more to convince he's relevant than his name being on some dumb book. In fact, nothing will ever convince he's relevant. Keep in mind that Titanic and Avatar are the highest grossing films of all time, so you'll excuse me if I take what people hold in regard with a grain of salt.

For someone that called my statements opinion, you don't have a very good grasp of what opinion is.

Look. At. The. Bloody. Film. I defy you to call it anything other than abomination. I defy you to say that it adapted the material well. I defy you to say it is a good adaptation. I defy you call this clunky mess, error-ridden mess a good film.

An evaluative judgment is an opinion. When it is done very well with fidelity towards the relevant commentators and the evidence, it's criticism. When it is primarily charged by a positive or negative bias for or against the creator, it is diatribe. Your work is not criticism. It is diatribe.

Says the man who apparently has nothing better to do with his time than argue with a faceless voice on the internet. My criticisms are crticisms. I watched the damn film several times and went over every scene in detail and explained very thoroughly why this is a terrible film. Again, everything you've said is just your opinion.

Nor is this a perfect description of the film at all.

This film is a joke and an abomination. That IS a perfect description of it.

Even were your "recap" a recap, such a statement is bald arrogance - no one can perfectly describe something in another medium. (Adaptation being a translation between media.) Given the fact that a large part of your argument involves comparing it with Tolkien and applying a poorly-elaborated standard for comparison, it doesn't even purport to perfectly describe the film. Given that many of these comparisons are made for the purpose of attacking Bakshi, the recap describes your attitude towards the creator better than it describes the work. That's bad criticism - you took your eye off the ball.

Well, well, it seems that I'm not the only one here fond of his own opinion. I am well aware of what adaptation is, and this film did that very, very poorly. No, this recap described very well how terrible this film is. My eyes did not leave the ball. Oh, and by the way, the next time you try to get me to listen to you, starting with a prettily worded variant of "this is crap" is not a good way to start.

And it's nice to know you think attacking other people is doing just fine. Just don't pretend for a moment that such acts of attack have any merit. Once again, they make you look petty.

...Said he who has been hounding me mercilessly since this started. You're seriously coming across as a big Bakshi worshipper, which is just as much, if not more, petty than you think I'm being. I am not and will not change my position on Bakshi or this film. Just because you show me misguided admiration of this man's work, you think I'm suddenly going to start loving him and his work?

Even people who like Bakshi often don't defend this film.

...And I'm the one who is supposed to be out of touch here?

I don't defend this film.

Then stop.

What they tend to admit is that the film - any film - has things it does well, even if it's to say that the film failed in general nonetheless.

Manos: The Hand of Fate. I dare you to defend a single second of screen time.

Your statement is short-sighted though, because while you are attacking Bakshi, you're also slighting Tolkien with your factual errors. More importantly, you're slighting Tolkien himself (the medieval literature scholar) by pretending that your diatribe is any kind of criticism. He would not abide such intellectual dishonesty.

And once again, this was not professionally done. You forgot that, didn't you? I'll correct the factual mistakes, but I am not junking this paper.

That's simply not true, something you acknowledge later in the paragraph when you acknowledge the influence of Bakshi and Groening on animation.

If by "acknowledge", you mean "accuse and blame completely and fully", then yes.

He had a substantial influence on the independent animation scene of the 1960s and 1970s, filtering through many artists like Don Bluth.

I hate to break this to you, pal, but Bluth's works are nothing like Bakshi's and the two men are not fond of each other.

He substantially influenced people like John K., as well as the model of creator-driven animation in the 1980s that gave rise to big names like Genndy Tartakovsky. The Museum of Modern Art isn't archiving his work for nothing. Thus, yes, lots of people are influenced by him.

And where are these two men now? The Museum of Modern Art is a joke. Just about anything can get in there.

like that quote, and I love animation.

Are you intentionally trying to make it hard to this seriously?

I think that animation can be high art. Bakshi isn't saying that cartooning is horrible. He's saying that the medium is edgy, that it has popular appeal ("for-the-public"). That it, for him, is low art but good art, with its pulse on what is "believable," what really affects us in our day to day lives. It's also "vulgar," which I suppose to you means naughty or adult. Here, it's rather like writing in barbarian tongues was to late Romans - popular but judged unrefined. Animation has had to fight hard to earn some respect as an art form, and even today it has the knots of that fight - it's far more than mainstream. Cool enough - I think animation is *more* than he says it is, but there's nothing that offends me about what he says.

And your explanation of his quote makes me hate it even more. Good going. Yeah, and I'll tell you now that Bakshi's contributions" have not helped animation win that fight.

Nor is he calling it graffiti. A comparison is not a statement of equality.

It was close enough. That he even used "animation/cartooning" and "graffiti" in the same sentence is an insult to the medium.

He even states the basis of his comparison earlier in the sentence, the fact that all of these mediums have popular appeal to low classes. The implicit assumption by calling these arts is that they still have substantial technical merit. Graffiti and street murals have their own forms, and are generally considered an art form of their own. Rap has its own forms, and is generally considered a technically robust form of music. Those elements of street sophistication is what Bakshi's quote is appealing to.

Excuse me while I vomit. Thank you for confirming every bad thought I've ever had about this man. I'm sure a man who intentionally shoved as many drugs, boobs, and asses into his works as he could would liken animation to rap and graffiti. Your take on this statement does not raise my opinion of him any.

I will not be coming back to this topic. I took a look at the links you provided and was less than impressed with what I saw. Fritz the Cat...groundbreaking? You have got to be joking! Yeah, I will continue to hold Bakshi is lower esteem than dirt and there is nothing you can do to change that.

[Sonic#]

My criticisms are crticisms.

You: the passing of unfavourable judgement; fault-finding, censure.
Me: The art of estimating the qualities and character of literary or artistic work; the function or work of a critic.

Ah, yes, of course. Forgive me for ever mistaking you for a critic of the second sort, when your petty abuse should have demonstrated that you are unworthy of such an epithet.

And there are books out there about getting girls with witchcraft. It'll take a lot more to convince he's relevant than his name being on some dumb book.

So animation history books are now just some dumb book. Forgive me for mistaking you as someone interested in the history of animation.

Look. At. The. Bloody. Film. I defy you to call it anything other than abomination. I defy you to say that it adapted the material well. I defy you to say it is a good adaptation. I defy you call this clunky mess, error-ridden mess a good film.

I have watched the film. I don't think it is a good adaptation. At the same time, were I to recap it, I would also dedicate myself to commenting on what he does well, or at least what other people think he's done well. I would seek to give a fair assessment of its qualities, describing what each element does. My opinion would also be there - it has to be - but it wouldn't oppressively hover over every sentence and judgment. I wouldn't throttle the reader into taking my point. Nor would Tolkien - his criticism, both professionally and nonprofessionally done, would never come close to the tone here.

You're seriously coming across as a big Bakshi worshipper, which is just as much, if not more, petty than you think I'm being.

You're coming across as a bad reader. I've been honest about what I think of Bakshi, which could be termed ambivalence - his work is bad here, occasionally good elsewhere, he's raw talent and not much discipline, which is why his story is riddled with holes here. I don't want every animator to be like him, but even the people who don't like him (Don Bluth) admit his influence. Here are my statements:

[As] someone who likes Bakshi with some reservations

A Tolkien fan who dislikes Bakshi's Lord of the Rings argues that the above recap is in poor form.

I even agree that Bakshi is not often my cup of tea.

I disagree with what you have written. I think it's bad criticism. My opinion of Bakshi is mostly irrelevant, because I'm appealing to practices of good criticism. You cannot do more than reiterate your biases. Furthermore, you keep making inconsistent comments. For example, Bakshi cannot simultaneously be unimportant to animation and important enough for be widely recognized, even by groups who are influential who you happen to not like (MoMA). He cannot be simultaneously unimportant and merit over 18,000 words of commentary. Even if you hate Bakshi, even if you think there is nothing of worth in his career, it is an act of intellectual honesty to acknowledge and address the opinions of others. Merely repeating your own anger is not sufficient; even amateur writers should write to an audience of their peers.

Good day.