Unlike most kids, I never read “The Hobbit” in high school so the when the first of the LOTR movies came out, I had no idea of what I was in for. When it ended with Frodo and Sam looking towards Mordor and the credits started rolling, I turned in my seat quickly.
“NO! That can’t be it! Tell me it ain’t so!”
The next movie was due out in a year. I couldn’t wait that long. I had to get the books. I had never been so frightened yet so intrigued of something as I had been of the Ringwraiths. And I had to know what was going to happen to Frodo. Was he going to be alright? Were they going to make it? Was he going to be reunited with the rest of the Fellowship?
An English friend got me the books and talked about how he has bought several copies over the years. Stories of babbling brooks and grassy knolls were part of his England of old. As traditional as Christmas crackers and egg and watercress sandwiches. There was something so distinctly otherworldly, so removed and beautiful that the power of that book was to provoke that image of absolute perfection and cry when you could see the sunlight illuminate the hobbit holes of Hobbiton.
If I had the money and the time to watch the LOTR extended version trilogy marathon in the movie theaters, I swear that I would have done it. As it were, I was only able to watch “The Two Towers” in theaters and was there for a good three hours. All I can say is God bless Peter Jackson for filming those movies as near as possible to the books. Nine hours in a movie theater would be a dream come true for me.
SPOILER ALERT: Can I just say that I agree with that same English friend when he watched the third movie and said, “God! I thought Frodo and Sam were going to get married at the end!”
I don’t think that was in the book….