[Son of Númenor]

I watched The Fellowship of the Ring last night.

The first time I saw it in theaters, it was the most moving cinematic experience I ever had. I was totally immersed in the mythic canvas, and found it putting me in touch with what must be an innate ancestral longing for the landscapes and cultures which inspired Tolkien's epic, as well as that intangible, transcendental feeling which Einstein aptly calls the "mystical emotion". I truly savoured the books after seeing the first film, and though the next two films were let-downs by my lofty expectations, still anything Tolkien-related rarely failed to inspire that sense of youthful wonderment. I felt that the dust of the accumulated cynicism from my short years in this insanely materialist society had been swept away - for that I will always be thankful to the good professor, and to Peter Jackson & Co.

Watching it last night, I found myself caught up at first in the story and seeing a little of myself in all of the characters. The old emotions were roused from dormancy, and I was especially receptive as I'd had a good, joyful cry for the first time in a while only minutes before putting in the DVD.

However, as the film progressed, I realized that a lot of it had lost its enchantment, and that I had become too critical a film-viewer to allow myself to be swept away: many of Jackson's cuts annoyed me, and the whole segment from the fellowship's departure from Rivendell to their departure from Lorien felt rushed and in parts relied too heavily on dramatic cliche in place of any substantial dialogue. It's hard to fault Jackson: even the full three hours isn't nearly enough time by any hard-nosed Tolkenite's standards, and he had to take into account mainstream audiences that wanted a holiday blockbuster that was not too difficult to follow and didn't linger where the action wasn't. Still, I found myself disappointed.

To truly appreciate what Jackson accomplished, it may be that I'll have to take a few years off from watching the films. But my purpose in making the thread wasn't to critique Jackson, anyway, but to share with you an experience of disenchantment which I am sure many of you can relate to. The sunlit hills and misty valleys of Middle-earth are a part of who I am that I cherish, but I often feel I need new walking shoes to go tramping in them again.