Clayton continues “‘Fellowship of the Rings’ is…aesthetically regressive…by way of a detour that leads back to the 1890s…what was art nouveau [1890s arts & crafts movement linked to Pre-Raphaelites] itself if not regressive, an attempt to reintroduce artisanal production in the era of mass manufacturing? And beyond that, to recover the realm of nature that was on its way to being totally assimilated by technology? And ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ caters to both of these nostalgic fantasies by taking viewers back to a world in which good is represented by an idealized English village and by plunging them in natural vistas worthy of a National Geographic documentary, overripely photographed by Andrew Lesnie…In fact, the enthusiasm of the youth culture for art nouveau in the 1960s [when the “LOTR” books made their biggest splash] and its later kitschy derivates—in contrast to the relatively marginal interest in genuinely experimental art being produced in the 1960s—was as much symptomatic of its naive aesthetic sensibility as it was indicative of a fascinating process of cultural democratization. What had started at the end of the [19th] century as an elite movement, the revolt of a handful of disenchanted artists against the relentless progress of industrialization, had finally made its way down to the masses and become a national fad in the homeland of free enterprise. But the young Americans of the 1960s in revolt against the monolithic edifice of advanced industrial capitalism in the name of flower power were unwittingly reenacting a battle that had been played out and lost decades before. Now ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ is giving us the chance to live out their fantasies a second time—for only the price of a movie admission.”
(Of course, I maintain that even this attempt at nostalgia is overturned by the trilogy’s relentless endorsement of technology and gigantism (see “Lord of the Rings” as Environmental Allegory). If not overturned, then it is at least subject to the trilogy’s perhaps only conflict of inner-desires.)
But an argument can be made that “The Lord of the Rings” goes beyond glorifying adolescence to exploring its end. What happens at the end of “Return of the King?” All the magical (childish) elements get on a boat and leave. Gandalf, Frodo, the elves, and all the other supernatural characters get in and sail off. Women are demystified: Aragorn gets married to a woman who physically divorces herself from magic (she renounces her elfishness and becomes just another human being). Sam and Frodo end their non-sexual boyhood symbiosis and Sam even gets married. The magic of childhood departs, never to return, leaving us with marriage and mundane reality. This is the most interesting interpretation of “The Lord of the Rings” and could perhaps justify the trilogy’s shallow characterizations as exemplifying the adolescent mind’s preference for swords, mechanisms, and batting averages over psychological depth. One wishes that this theme could be explored more in exchange for so many endless battle sequences, and one also wishes that the supernatural imaginary friends who depart at the end could take their insipid ideas about warfare (see War) with them as well.
The “thirteen-year-old boy” has been bandied about a lot in these essays, but it’s important to know that he is more a quick description of a state-of-mind than an accurate biological identification. “Lord of the Rings” plays just as well, if not better, for the softer sex. It’s worth noting that in the user-voted IMDb Top 50 Movies as Voted by Women, “The Matrix” places much higher than in the Top 50 Voted by Men, and “Citizen Kane” places much lower. Certainly “LOTR” contains all the beautiful boy types, including rugged (Aragorn), girly (Legolas), boyish (the Hobbits), and really rugged (Gimli). But what explains girls watching endless scenes of bloodless bloodshed in which the female roles are all marginalized? The misogynist impulse in boys finds humor in women being ignored. Examples from films include:
The Empire Strikes Back: Leia: “I love you!” Han, possibly about to die: “I know.” (Han Solo is so cool)
Big Trouble in Little China: “Aren’t you even going to kiss her good-bye?” “Nope.”
The Wild Bunch: “He wasn’t shooting at you, Generalissimo, he was shooting at the prostitute in your lap!” “Oh!” Generalissimo’s men understandably put away guns.
Gone With the Wind: “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
So the marginalization, or at least tokenization, of women in “LOTR” is appealing to the fellahs, but what about the ladies? Women (so my daydreamed theory goes) are amused by men getting humiliated, not ignored. If I were in the habit of saying shocking things just to be shocking, then I would say that, in a way, “LOTR” becomes like pornography. Girls don’t want to see girls going at it any more than boys want to see boys going at it, except when some parts are occasionally and unavoidably necessary. In “LOTR,” the male desire for good old-fashioned nudity is replaced with the female preference for exotic clothing. Like porn, there is no real identification with any of the characters, merely a spectator sport in which one hot boy after another gets all worked up, angsty, and sweaty over something stupid and insubstantial. Boy, are they hot. And boy are they stupid. (For an example of a hot guy getting worked up over something asinine, insert any line of dialogue from any of the three movies. I’m mean today.)
Copyright (c) 2004 Friday & Saturday Night
Page one of "'Lord of the Rings' as Adolescent Allegory."
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