The Lord of the Rings The Fellowship of the Ring script

The world is changed.

I feel it in the water.

I feel it in the earth.

I smell it in the air.

Much that once was...

...is lost.

For none now live who remember it.

It began with the forging of the Great Rings.

Three were given to the Elves:

Immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings.

Seven to the Dwarf-lords:

Great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls.

And nine...

...nine rings were gifted to the race of Men...

...who, above all else, desire power.

For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race.

But they were all of them deceived.

For another ring was made.

In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom...

...the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring...

...to control all others.

And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice...

...and his will to dominate all life.

One Ring to rule them all.

One by one...

...the Free Lands of Middle-earth fell to the power of the Ring.

But there were some who resisted.

A Last Alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor.

And on the slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Middle-earth.

Victory was near.

But the power of the Ring...

...could not be undone.

It was in this moment...

...when all hope had faded...

...that Isildur, son of the king, took up his father's sword.

Sauron, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth, was defeated.

The Ring passed to Isildur...

...who had this one chance to destroy evil forever.

But the hearts of Men...

...are easily corrupted.

And the Ring of Power has a will of its own.

It betrayed Isildur...

...to his death.

And some things that should not have been forgotten...

...were lost.

History became legend...

...legend became myth.

And for two and a half thousand years...

...the Ring passed out of all knowledge.

Until, when chance came...

...it ensnared a new bearer.

My precious.

The Ring came to the creature Gollum...

...who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains.

And there it consumed him.

It came to me.

My own. My love. My own.

My precious.

The Ring brought to Gollum unnatural long life.

For 500 years it poisoned his mind.

And in the gloom of Gollum's cave, it waited.

Darkness crept back into the forests of the world.

Rumor grew of a shadow in the East...

...whispers of a nameless fear.

And the Ring of Power perceived...

...its time had now come.

It abandoned Gollum.

But something happened then the Ring did not intend.

It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable.

What's this?

A Hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.

A ring.

Lost!

My precious is lost!

For the time will soon come...

...when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.

The 22nd day of September...

...in the year 1400...

...by Shire-reckoning.

Bag End, Bagshot Row, Hobbiton, West farthing...

...the Shire...

...Middle-earth.

The Third Age of this world.

There and Back Again:

A Hobbit's Tale.

By Bilbo Baggins.

Now...

...where to begin?

Ah, yes....

"Concerning...

...Hobbits."

Hobbits have been living and farming in the four Farthings of the Shire...

...for many hundreds of years...

...quite content to ignore and be ignored...

...by the world of the Big Folk.

Middle-earth being, after all, full of strange creatures beyond count...

...Hobbits must seem of little importance...

...being neither renowned as great warriors...

...nor counted among the very wise.

Frodo! Someone at the door.

In fact, it has been remarked by some...

...that Hobbits' only real passion is for food.

A rather unfair observation...

...as we have also developed a keen interest in the brewing of ales...

...and the smoking of pipe-weed.

But where our hearts truly lie...

...is in peace and quiet...

...and good, tilled earth.

For all Hobbits share a love of things that grow.

And, yes, no doubt to others, our ways seem quaint.

But today of all days, it is brought home to me:

It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.

Frodo, the door!

Sticklebacks. Where is that boy?

Frodo!

Down from the door where it began

And I must follow if I can

The road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began

Now far ahead the road has gone

-And I must follow if I can -You're late.

A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins.

Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.

It's wonderful to see you, Gandalf!

You didn't think I'd miss your Uncle Bilbo's birthday?

How is the old rascal?

I hear it's going to be a party of special magnificence.

You know Bilbo. He's got the whole place in an uproar.

Well, that should please him.

Half the Shire's been invited.

And the rest of them are turning up anyway.

And so life in the Shire goes on...

...very much as it has this past Age...

..full of its own comings and goings, with change coming slowly.

If it comes at all.

For things are made to endure in the Shire...

...passing from one generation to the next.

There's always been a Baggins living here under the Hill...

...in Bag End.

And there always will be.

To tell you the truth, Bilbo's been a bit odd lately.

I mean, more than usual.

He's taken to locking himself in his study.

He spends hours poring over old maps when he thinks I'm not looking.

Where's it gone?

He's up to something.

-All right, then. Keep your secrets. -What?

But I know you have something to do with it.

Good gracious me.

Before you came along, we Bagginses were very well thought of.

Indeed.

Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected.

If you're referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved.

All I did was give your uncle a little nudge out of the door.

Whatever you did, you've been officially labeled a disturber of the peace.

Oh, really?

Gandalf! Gandalf!

Fireworks, Gandalf!

-Gandalf! -Fireworks, Gandalf!

Gandalf?

-I'm glad you're back. -So am I, dear boy.

So am I.

No, thank you!

We don't want any more visitors, well-wishers or distant relations!

And what about very old friends?

Gandalf?

-Bilbo Baggins. -My dear Gandalf!

Good to see you. 111 years old! Who would believe it?

You haven't aged a day.

Come on, come in!

Welcome, welcome.

Oh, here we are.

Tea? Or maybe something a little stronger?

I've got a few bottles of the Old Winyard left. 1296.

Very good year. Almost as old as I am.

It was laid down by my father. What say we open one, eh?

Just tea, thank you.

I was expecting you sometime last week.

Not that it matters. You come and go as you please. Always have and always will.

You caught me a bit unprepared. We've only got cold chicken and a bit of pickle....

There's some cheese here. No, that won't do.

We've got raspberry jam, an apple tart...

But not much for afters. Oh, no, we're all right.

I've just found some sponge cake.

I could make you some eggs if you'd...

-Just tea, thank you. -Oh, right.

-You don't mind if I eat, do you? -No, not at all.

Bilbo! Bilbo Baggins!

I'm not at home!

It's the Sackville-Bagginses.

-I know you're in there! -They're after the house.

They've never forgiven me for living this long.

I've got to get away from these confounded relatives, hanging on the bell all day...

...never giving me a moment's peace.

I want to see mountains again. Mountains, Gandalf!

And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book. Oh, tea.

-So you mean to go through with your plan? -Yes, yes. It's all in hand.

All the arrangements are made.

Oh, thank you.

Frodo suspects something.

Of course he does. He's a Baggins...

...not some blockheaded Bracegirdle from Hardbottle.

You will tell him, won't you?

-Yes, yes. -He's very fond of you.

I know.

He'd probably come with me if I asked him.

I think in his heart, Frodo's still in love with the Shire.

The woods, the fields.

Little rivers.

I am old, Gandalf.

I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart.

I feel thin.

Sort of stretched...

...like butter scraped over too much bread.

I need a holiday. A very long holiday.

And I don't expect I shall return.

In fact, I mean not to.

Old Toby. The finest weed in the South farthing.

Gandalf, my old friend...

...this will be a night to remember.

Hello, hello.

Fatty Bolger. Lovely to see you. Welcome, welcome.

Go on, Sam. Ask Rosie for a dance.

-I think I'll just have another ale. -Oh, no, you don't.

Go on!

So there I was...

...at the mercy of three monstrous trolls.

And they were all arguing amongst themselves...

...about how they were going to cook us.

Whether it be turned on a spit, or to sit on us one by one, squash us into jelly.

They spent so much time arguing the whithertos and the whyfors...

...that the sun's first light crept over the top of the trees...

...and turned them all to stone!

Quickly.

Up they go!

No, the big one.

Mrs. Bracegirdle, how nice to see you. Welcome, welcome.

Are all these children yours?

Good gracious, you have been productive.

Bilbo?

Sackville-Bagginses!

Quickly, hide!

Thank you, my boy.

You're a good lad, Frodo.

I'm very selfish, you know.

Yes, I am. Very selfish.

I don't know why I took you in after your mother and father died...

...but it wasn't out of charity.

I think it was because...

...of all my numerous relations...

...you were the one Baggins that showed real spirit.

Bilbo, have you been at the Gaffer's home brew?

No.

Well, yes, but that's not the point.

The point is, Frodo...

...you'll be all right.

-Done! -You're supposed to stick it in the ground.

-It is in the ground. -Outside!

This was your idea.

Bilbo.

Bilbo, watch out for the dragon!

Nonsense. There hasn't been a dragon in these parts for a thousand years.

-That was good. -Let's get another one.

Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took.

I might've known.

Speech, Bilbo!

Speech!

Speech!

My dear Bagginses and Boffins...

...Tooks and Brandybucks...

...Grubbs, Chubbs...

...Hornblowers...

...Bolgers...

...Bracegirdles...

-...and Proudfoots. -Proudfeet!

Today is my 111th birthday!

Happy birthday!

But alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among...

...such excellent and admirable Hobbits.

I don't know half of you half as well as I should like...

...and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.

I have things to do.

I've put this off far too long.

I regret to announce this is the end!

I'm going now.

I bid you all a very fond farewell.

Goodbye.

I suppose you think that was terribly clever.

Come on, Gandalf. Did you see their faces?

There are many magic rings in this world, and none of them should be used lightly.

It was just a bit of fun.

Oh, you're probably right, as usual.

-You will keep an eye on Frodo, won't you? -Two eyes.

As often as I can spare them.

-I'm leaving everything to him. -What about this ring of yours?

-Is that staying too? -Yes, yes.

It's in an envelope over there on the mantelpiece.

No. Wait, it's...

...here in my pocket.

Isn't that--? Isn't that odd, now?

Yet, after all, why not?

-Why shouldn't I keep it? -I think you should leave the ring behind.

Is that so hard?

Well, no.

And yes.

Now it comes to it, I don't feel like parting with it.

It's mine. I found it! It came to me!

-There's no need to get angry. -Well, if I'm angry, it's your fault!

It's mine.

My own.

-My precious. -Precious?

It's been called that before, but not by you.

What business is it of yours what I do with my own things?

I think you've had that ring quite long enough.

-You want it for yourself! -Bilbo Baggins!

Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks.

I am not trying to rob you.

I'm trying to help you.

All your long years, we've been friends.

Trust me as you once did.

Let it go.

You're right, Gandalf.

The ring must go to Frodo.

It's late. The road is long.

Yes, it is time.

Bilbo, the ring is still in your pocket.

I've thought up an ending for my book:

"And he lived happily ever after to the end of his days."

And I'm sure you will, my dear friend.

Goodbye, Gandalf.

Goodbye, dear Bilbo.

The road goes ever on and on

Until our next meeting.

It's mine. My own.

My precious.

Riddles in the dark.

Bilbo!

Bilbo!

My precious.

Precious.

He's gone, hasn't he?

He talked for so long about leaving...

...I didn't think he'd really do it.

Gandalf?

Bilbo's ring.

He's gone to stay with the Elves.

He's left you Bag End.

Along with all his possessions.

The ring is yours now.

-Put it somewhere out of sight. -Where are you going?

-There are some things that I must see to. -What things?

-Questions. Questions that need answering. -You've only just arrived.

I don't understand.

Neither do I.

Keep it secret.

Keep it safe.

Shire!

Baggins!

"The year 3434 of the Second Age.

Here follows the account of Isildur, High King of Gondor...

...and the finding of the Ring of Power."

"It has come to me.

The One Ring. It shall be an heirloom of my kingdom.

All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate...

...for I will risk no hurt to the Ring.

It is precious to me...

...though I buy it with great pain.

The markings upon the band begin to fade.

The writing, which at first was as clear as red flame, has all but disappeared.

A secret now that only fire can tell."

Shire.

Baggins.

There's no Bagginses around here. They're all up in Hobbiton.

That way.

To heal my heart and drown my woe

Rain may fall and wind may blow

But there still be

Many miles to go

Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain

And the stream that falls From hill to plain

Better than rain or rippling brook

Is a mug of beer inside this Took

There's been some strange folk crossing the Shire.

Dwarves and others of a less than savory nature.

War is brewing.

The mountains are fair teeming with goblins.

Far-off tales and children's stories, that's all that is.

You're beginning to sound like that old Bilbo Baggins. Cracked, he was.

Young Mr. Frodo here, he's cracking.

And proud of it.

-Cheers, Gaffer. -Cheers.

It's none of our concern what goes on beyond our borders.

Keep your nose out of trouble, and no trouble'll come to you.

-Good night, lads. -Good night.

Good night, sweet maiden of the golden ale.

Mind who you're sweet-talking.

Don't worry, Sam. Rosie knows an idiot when she sees one.

Does she?

-Good night, Sam. -Good night, Mister Frodo.

Is it secret? Is it safe?

What are you doing?

Hold out your hand, Frodo.

It's quite cool.

What can you see?

Can you see anything?

Nothing.

There's nothing.

Wait.

There are markings.

It's some form of Elvish. I can't read it.

There are few who can.

The language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here.

Mordor!

In the common tongue, it says:

"One Ring to rule them all...

...One Ring to find them...

...One Ring to bring them all...

...and in the darkness bind them."

This is the One Ring...

...forged by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom.

Taken by Isildur from the hand of Sauron himself.

Bilbo found it.

-In Gollum's cave. -Yes.

For 60 years, the Ring lay quiet in Bilbo's keeping...

...prolonging his life, delaying old age.

But no longer, Frodo. Evil is stirring in Mordor.

The Ring has awoken.

It's heard its master's call.

But he was destroyed. Sauron was destroyed.

No, Frodo.

The spirit of Sauron endured.

His life force is bound to the Ring, and the Ring survived.

Sauron has returned.

His Orcs have multiplied.

His fortress at Barad-dur is rebuilt in the land of Mordor.

Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all the lands in a second darkness.

He is seeking it.

Seeking it. All his thought is bent on it.

For the Ring yearns above all else...

...to return to the hand of its master.

They are one...

...the Ring and the Dark Lord.

Frodo...

...he must never find it.

All right.

We put it away. We keep it hidden. We never speak of it again.

No one knows it's here, do they?

Do they, Gandalf?

There is one other who knew that Bilbo had the Ring.

I looked everywhere for the creature Gollum.

But the enemy found him first.

I don't know how long they tortured him.

But amidst the endless screams and inane babble, they discerned two words:

Shire!

Baggins!

Shire.

Baggins. But that would lead them here!

Who goes there?

Take it, Gandalf!

-Take it! -No, Frodo.

-You must take it! -You cannot offer me this ring!

-I'm giving it to you! -Don't tempt me, Frodo!

I dare not take it.

Not even to keep it safe.

Understand, Frodo...

...I would use this Ring from a desire to do good.

But through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.

-But it cannot stay in the Shire! -No.

No, it can't.

What must I do?

-You must leave. And leave quickly. -Where? Where do I go?

Get out of the Shire. Make for the village of Bree.

Bree.

-What about you? -I'll be waiting for you...

...at the inn of the Prancing Pony.

-And the Ring will be safe there? -I don't know, Frodo.

I don't have any answers.

I must see the head of my order. He is both wise and powerful. Trust me, Frodo.

He'll know what to do.

You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind you.

That name is not safe outside the Shire.

Travel only by day. And stay off the road.

I can cut across country easily enough.

My dear Frodo.

Hobbits really are amazing creatures.

You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month.

And yet, after a hundred years...

...they can still surprise you.

Get down.

Confound it all, Samwise Gamgee! Have you been eavesdropping?

I haven't been dropping no eaves. Honest. I was cutting the grass under the window.

A little late for trimming the verge, don't you think?

-I heard raised voices. -What did you hear? Speak!

Nothing important.

That is, I heard a good deal about a ring, a Dark Lord and the end of the world but...

Please, Mr. Gandalf, sir, don't hurt me. Don't turn me into anything unnatural.

No?

Perhaps not.

I've thought of a better use for you.

Come along, Samwise. Keep up.

Be careful, both of you.

The enemy has many spies in his service:

Birds, beasts.

Is it safe?

Never put it on...

...for the agents of the Dark Lord will be drawn to its power.

Always remember, Frodo...

...the Ring is trying to get back to its master.

It wants to be found.

This is it.

This is what?

If I take one more step...

...it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been.

Come on, Sam.

Remember what Bilbo used to say:

-"It's a dangerous business, Frodo." -"Going out your door.

You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet...

...there's no knowing where you might be swept off to. "

Sam.

Wood-elves.

They're going to the harbor beyond the White Towers.

To the Grey Havens.

They're leaving Middle-earth.

Never to return.

I don't know why...

...it makes me sad.

Everywhere I lie there's a dirty great root sticking into my back.

Just shut your eyes...

...and imagine you're back in your own bed...

...with a soft mattress and a lovely feather pillow.

It's not working, Mr. Frodo.

I'm never going to be able to sleep out here.

Me neither, Sam.

Smoke rises from the Mountain of Doom.

The hour grows late.

And Gandalf the Grey rides to Isengard...

...seeking my counsel.

For that is why you have come, is it not?

My old friend.

Saruman.

-You are sure of this? -Beyond any doubt.

So the Ring of Power has been found.

All these long years, it was in the Shire.

-Under my very nose. -Yet you did not have the wit to see it.

Your love of the halfling's leaf has clearly slowed your mind.

But we still have time. Time enough to counter Sauron if we act quickly.

Time?

What time do you think we have?

Sauron has regained much of his former strength.

He cannot yet take physical form...

...but his spirit has lost none of its potency.

Concealed within his fortress, the Lord of Mordor sees all.

His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth and flesh.

You know of what I speak, Gandalf.

A Great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame.

The Eye of Sauron.

He is gathering all evil to him.

Very soon, he'll have summoned an army...

...great enough for an assault upon Middle-earth.

You know this?

How?

I have seen it.

A palantir is a dangerous tool, Saruman.

Why?

Why should we fear to use it?

They are not all accounted for, the lost Seeing-stones.

We do not know who else may be watching.

The hour is later than you think.

Sauron's forces are already moving.

The Nine have left Minas Morgul.

The Nine?

They crossed the River Isen on Midsummer's Eve...

...disguised as riders in black.

-They've reached the Shire? -They will find the Ring.

And kill the one who carries it.

Frodo!

You did not seriously think that a Hobbit could contend with the will of Sauron?

There are none who can.

Against the power of Mordor...

...there can be no victory.

We must join with him, Gandalf.

We must join with Sauron.

It would be wise, my friend.

Tell me...

...friend...

...when did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for madness?

I gave you the chance...

...of aiding me willingly...

...but you have elected the way of pain!

Mr. Frodo?

Frodo? Frodo!

-I thought I'd lost you. -What are you talking about?

-It's just something Gandalf said. -What did he say?

"Don't you lose him, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to.

Sam, we're still in the Shire. What could possibly happen?

Frodo.

-Merry, it's Frodo Baggins. -Hello, Frodo.

Get off him.

Come on, Frodo.

What's the meaning of this?

You've been into Farmer Maggot's crop!

You get back here!

Get out of my field!

You'll know the devil if I catch up with you!

I don't know why he's so upset. It's only a couple of carrots.

And some cabbages.

And those three bags of potatoes that we lifted last week.

-And then the mushrooms the week before. -Yes, Pippin. My point is...

...he's clearly overreacting.

Run!

Oh, that was close.

I think I've broken something.

Trust a Brandybuck and a Took!

What? That was just a detour. A short cut.

-Short cut to what? -Mushrooms!

That's mine.

That's nice, Merry.

Here's a nice one, Sam.

I think we should get off the road.

Get off the road!

Quick!

Be quiet!

What was that?

Anything?

Nothing.

What is going on?

That Black Rider was looking for something. Or someone.

Frodo?

Get down!

I have to leave the Shire.

Sam and I must get to Bree.

Right.

Bucklebury Ferry. Follow me.

Run!

This way! Follow me!

Run!

Get the rope, Sam!

Frodo!

Run, Frodo!

Go! -Hurry!

Frodo, come on!

-Come on! Faster! -Jump!

-How far to the nearest crossing? -The Brandywine Bridge. 20 miles.

Come on.

-What do you want? -We're heading for the Prancing Pony.

Hobbits. Four Hobbits!

What's more, out of the Shire by your talk. What business brings you to Bree?

We wish to stay at the inn. Our business is our own.

All right, young sir. I meant no offense.

It's my job to ask questions after night fall.

There's talk of strange folk abroad.

Can't be too careful.

Out of the way! Watch where you're walking.

Excuse me.

Good evening, little masters. What can I do for you?

If you're seeking accommodation, we got some cozy Hobbit-sized rooms available.

Always proud to cater to the Little Folk, Mister...?

Underhill. My name's Underhill.

-Underhill, yes. -We're friends of Gandalf the Grey.

-Can you tell him we've arrived? -Gandalf?

Gandalf.

Oh, yes...

...I remember. Elderly chap.

Big grey beard, pointy hat.

Not seen him for six months.

What do we do now?

Sam...

...he'll be here. He'll come.

Get out of my way!

What's that?

This, my friend, is a pint.

It comes in pints?

-I'm getting one. -You got a whole half already!

That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived.

Excuse me.

That Man in the corner. Who is he?

He's one of them Rangers. They're dangerous folk, wandering the Wilds.

What his right name is, I've never heard, but around here he's known as Strider.

Strider.

Baggins.

Baggins.

Baggins? Sure, I know a Baggins.

He's over there. Frodo Baggins.

He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side...

...and my third cousin, twice removed...

-Pippin! -Steady on, Frodo.

You cannot hide.

I see you.

There is no life...

...in the void.

Only...

...death.

You draw far too much attention to yourself, "Mr. Underhill."

What do you want?

A little more caution from you. That is no trinket you carry.

-I carry nothing. -Indeed.

I can avoid being seen if I wish...

...but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift.

-Who are you? -Are you frightened?

Yes.

Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you.

Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks.

You have a stout heart, little Hobbit. But that will not save you.

You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo.

They're coming.

What are they?

They were once Men.

Great kings of Men.

Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power.

Blinded by their greed, they took them without question.

One by one, falling into darkness.

Now they are slaves to his will.

They are the Nazgul.

Ringwraiths. Neither living nor dead.

At all times they feel...

...the presence of the Ring...

...drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you.

-Where are you taking us? -Into the Wild.

How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?

I think a servant of the enemy would look fairer...

-...and feel fouler. -He's foul enough.

We have no choice but to trust him.

-But where is he leading us? -To Rivendell, Master Gamgee.

-To the house of Elrond. -Did you hear that? Rivendell.

We're going to see the Elves.

-Gentlemen, we do not stop till nightfall. -What about breakfast?

-You've already had it. -We've had one, yes.

What about second breakfast?

Don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip.

What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?

-He knows about them, doesn't he? -I wouldn't count on it.

Pippin!

What do they eat when they can't get Hobbit?

Who is she?

This woman you sing of.

'Tis the lady of Luthien.

The Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal.

What happened to her?

She died.

Get some sleep, Frodo.

The power of Isengard is at your command...

...Sauron, Lord of the Earth.

Build me an army worthy of Mordor.

What orders from Mordor, my lord? What does the Eye command?

We have work to do.

The trees are strong, my lord. Their roots go deep.

Rip them all down.

This was the great watchtower of Amon Sul.

We shall rest here tonight.

These are for you. Keep them close.

I'm going to have a look around.

Stay here.

My tomato's burst.

Could I have some bacon?

Want a tomato, Sam?

-What are you doing?! -Tomatoes, sausages, nice crispy bacon.

-We saved some for you, Mr. Frodo. -Put it out, you fools!

-Put it out! -That's nice! Ash on my tomatoes!

Go!

Back, you devils!

Frodo!

Oh, Sam.

Strider!

-Help him, Strider. -He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade.

This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.

Hurry!

We're six days from Rivendell! He'll never make it!

Hold on, Frodo.

Gandalf!

Look, Frodo. It's Mr. Bilbo's trolls.

Mr. Frodo? He's going cold.

Is he going to die?

He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a Wraith like them.

-They're close. -Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?

-Athelas? -Kingsfoil.

Kingsfoil, aye, it's a weed.

It may help to slow the poisoning. Hurry!

What's this? A Ranger caught off his guard?

Frodo.

l am Arwen - l've come to help you.

Hear my voice...

Come back to the light.

Who is she?

Frodo.

-She's an Elf. -He's fading.

He's not going to last.

We must get him to my father.

-I've been looking for you for two days. -Where are you taking him?

There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.

Stay with the Hobbits - l'll send horses for you.

l'm the faster rider - l'll take him.

The Road is too dangerous.

What are they saying?

lf l can get across the river...

...the power of my people will protect him.

I do not fear them.

Arwen...

...ride hard. Don't look back.

What are you doing?! Those Wraiths are still out there!

Give up the halfling, She-Elf.

If you want him, come and claim him.

No. No!

Frodo, no.

Frodo, don't give in.

Not now.

What grace is given me...

...let it pass to him.

Let him be spared.

Save him.

-Where am I? -You are in the house of Elrond.

And it is 10:00 in the morning on October 24th, if you want to know.

-Gandalf! -Yes, I'm here.

And you're lucky to be here too.

A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid.

But you have some strength in you, my dear Hobbit.

What happened, Gandalf?

-Why didn't you meet us? -I am sorry, Frodo.

I was delayed.

A friendship with Saruman is not lightly thrown aside.

One ill turn deserves another. It is over.

Embrace the power of the Ring...

...or embrace your own destruction!

There is only one Lord of the Ring.

Only one who can bend it to his will.

And he does not share power.

So you have chosen death.

Gandalf? What is it?

Nothing, Frodo.

Frodo!

-Sam. -Bless you, you're awake!

Sam has hardly left your side.

We were that worried about you. Weren't we, Mr. Gandalf?

By the skills of Lord Elrond, you're beginning to mend.

Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins.

-Bilbo! -Hello, Frodo, my lad.

Bilbo.

"There and Back Again:

A Hobbit's Tale, by Bilbo Baggins."

-This is wonderful. -I meant to go back...

...wonder at the powers of Mirkwood...

...visit Lake-town...

...see the Lonely Mountain again.

But age, it seems, has finally caught up with me.

I miss the Shire.

I spent all my childhood pretending I was off somewhere else.

Off with you, on one of your adventures.

But my own adventure turned out to be quite different.

I'm not like you, Bilbo.

My dear boy.

-Now, what have I forgotten? -Packed already?

No harm in being prepared.

-I thought you wanted to see the Elves. -I do.

-More than anything. -I did.

It's just....

We did what Gandalf wanted, didn't we?

We got the Ring this far, to Rivendell. And I thought...

...seeing as how you're on the mend, we'd be off soon.

Off home.

You are right, Sam.

We did what we set out to do.

The Ring will be safe in Rivendell.

I am ready to go home.

His strength returns.

That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life.

And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring...

...the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil.

It is a burden he should never have had to bear.

-We can ask no more of Frodo. -Gandalf, the enemy is moving.

Sauron's forces are massing in the East. His Eye is fixed on Rivendell.

And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us.

Our list of allies grows thin.

His treachery runs deeper than you know.

By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin-men.

He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard.

An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed.

Saruman is coming for the Ring.

This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves.

We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard!

Gandalf...

...the Ring cannot stay here.

This peril belongs to all Middle-earth.

They must decide now how to end it.

The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores.

Who will you look to when we've gone? The Dwarves?

They hide in mountains seeking riches. They care not for the troubles of others.

It is in Men that we must place our hope.

Men?

Men are weak. The race of Men is failing.

The blood of Numenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity forgotten.

It is because of Men the Ring survives.

I was there, Gandalf.

I was there 3000 years ago...

...when Isildur took the Ring.

I was there the day the strength of Men failed.

Isildur, hurry! Follow me.

I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom...

...where the Ring was forged, the one place it could be destroyed.

Cast it into the fire!

-Destroy it! -No.

Isildur!

It should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure.

Isildur kept the Ring. The line of kings is broken.

There's no strength left in the world of Men.

-They're scattered, divided, leaderless. -There is one who could unite them.

One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor.

He turned from that path a long time ago.

He has chosen exile.

You are no Elf.

Men of the South are welcome here.

-Who are you? -I am a friend to Gandalf the Grey.

Then we are here on common purpose...

...friend.

The shards of Narsil.

The blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand.

It's still sharp.

But no more than a broken heirloom.

Why do you fear the past?

You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself.

You are not bound to his fate.

The same blood flows in my veins.

The same weakness.

Your time will come.

You will face the same evil. And you will defeat it.

The Shadow does not hold sway yet.

Not over you... not over me.

Do you remember when we first met?

l thought l had strayed into a dream.

Long years have passed.

You did not have the cares you carry now.

Do you remember what l told you?

You said you'd bind yourself to me...

...forsaking the immortal life of your people.

And to that I hold.

I would rather share one lifetime with you...

...than face all the Ages of this world alone.

I choose a mortal life.

-You cannot give me this. -It is mine to give to whom I will...

...like my heart.

Strangers from distant lands, friends of old...

...you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor.

Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it.

You will unite, or you will fall.

Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom.

Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.

So it is true.

In a dream...

...I saw the eastern sky grow dark...

...but in the West a pale light lingered.

A voice was crying:

"Your doom is near at hand.

Isildur's Bane is found."

Isildur's Bane.

Boromir!

Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris.

I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond...

...for the Black Speech of Mordor...

...may yet be heard...

...in every corner of the West!

The Ring is altogether evil.

It is a gift.

A gift to the foes of Mordor.

Why not use this Ring?

Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor...

...kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people...

...are your lands kept safe.

Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him.

You cannot wield it. None of us can.

The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.

And what would a Ranger know of this matter?

This is no mere Ranger.

He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.

You owe him your allegiance.

Aragorn.

This is Isildur's heir?

And heir to the throne of Gondor.

Sit down, Legolas.

Gondor has no king.

Gondor needs no king.

Aragorn is right. We cannot use it.

You have only one choice.

The Ring must be destroyed.

What are we waiting for?

The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin...

...by any craft that we here possess.

The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom.

Only there can it be unmade.

It must be taken deep into Mordor...

...and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came.

One of you...

...must do this.

One does not simply walk into Mordor.

Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs.

There is evil there that does not sleep.

The Great Eye is ever-watchful.

It is a barren wasteland...

...riddled with fire, and ash and dust.

The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume.

Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly.

Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed.

And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!

And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?

I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!

Never trust an Elf!

Do you not understand? While you bicker amongst yourselves, Sauron's power grows!

None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!

I will take it.

I will take it.

I will take the Ring to Mordor.

Though...

...I do not know the way.

I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins...

...as long as it is yours to bear.

If by my life or death I can protect you...

...I will.

You have my sword.

And you have my bow.

And my axe.

You carry the fates of us all, little one.

If this is indeed the will of the Council...

...then Gondor will see it done.

-Frodo's not going anywhere without me. -It is hardly possible to separate you...

...even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not.

We're coming too!

You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us.

Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of...

...mission.

Quest.

Thing.

Well, that rules you out, Pip.

Nine companions.

So be it.

You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.

Great!

Where are we going?

She wanted to protect her child...

she thought in Rivendell you would be safe.

In her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life.

That you'd never escape your fate.

The skill of the Elves can reforge the sword of kings...

...but only you have the power to wield it.

I do not want that power.

I have never wanted it.

You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other.

My old sword! Sting.

Here, take it. Take it.

-It's so light. -Yes. Made by the Elves, you know.

The blade glows blue when Orcs are close.

And it's times like that, my lad, when you have to be extra careful.

Here's a pretty thing.

Mithril.

As light as a feather, and as hard as dragon scales.

Let me see you put it on. Come on.

My old ring.

I should very much like...

...to hold it again, one last time.

I'm sorry I brought this upon you, my boy.

I'm sorry that you must carry this burden.

I'm sorry for everything.

The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom.

On you who travel with him, no oath...

...nor bond is laid to go further than you will.

Farewell. Hold to your purpose.

May the blessings of Elves and Men...

...and all Free Folk go with you.

The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer.

Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?

Left.

We must hold to this course, west of the Misty Mountains, for 40 days.

If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us.

From there, our road turns east to Mordor.

Two, one, five. Good! Very good.

Move your feet.

-You look good, Pippin. -Thanks.

Faster!

If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not...

...I'd say we were taking the long way 'round.

Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria.

My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome.

No, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice.

Sorry!

Get him!

-For the Shire! -Hold him. Hold him down, Merry!

Gentlemen, that's enough.

You've got my arm! You've got my arm!

-What is that? -Nothing. It's just a wisp of cloud.

It's moving fast.

Against the wind.

-Crebain from Dunland! -Hide!

-Hurry! -Take cover!

Spies of Saruman.

The passage south is being watched.

We must take the Pass of Caradhras.

Frodo!

Boromir.

It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt...

...over so small a thing.

Such a little thing.

Boromir!

Give the Ring to Frodo.

As you wish.

I care not.

So, Gandalf, you try to lead them over Caradhras.

And if that fails, where then will you go?

If the mountain defeats you...

...will you risk a more dangerous road?

There is a fell voice on the air.

It's Saruman!

He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!

No!

We must get off the mountain!

Make for the Gap of Rohan, and take the west road to my city!

The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!

We cannot pass over a mountain. Let us go under it.

Let us go through the Mines of Moria.

Moria. You fear to go into those mines.

The Dwarves delved too greedily and too deep.

You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dum:

Shadow and flame.

Let the Ring-bearer decide.

We cannot stay here!

This will be the death of the Hobbits.

Frodo?

We will go through the mines.

So be it.

Frodo, come and help an old man.

How is your shoulder?

-Better than it was. -And the Ring?

You feel its power growing, don't you?

I've felt it too. You must be careful now.

Evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship.

And, I fear, from within.

-Who then do I trust? -You must trust yourself.

Trust your own strengths.

-What do you mean? -There are many powers in this world...

...for good or for evil.

Some are greater than I am.

And against some I have not yet been tested.

The walls...

...of Moria.

Dwarf doors are invisible when closed.

Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten.

Why doesn't that surprise me?

Well, let's see.

Ithildin.

It mirrors only starlight and moonlight.

It reads, "The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria.

-Speak, friend, and enter." -What do you suppose that means?

It's simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open.

Nothing's happening.

I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves...

...Men and Orcs.

What are you going to do, then?

Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took!

And if that does not shatter them...

...and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions...

...I will try to find the opening words.

Mines are no place for a pony.

-Even one so brave as Bill. -Bye-bye, Bill.

Go on, Bill. Go on.

Don't worry, Sam, he knows the way home.

Do not disturb the water.

Oh, it's useless.

It's a riddle.

"Speak 'friend' and enter."

What's the Elvish word for "friend"?

Mellon.

Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves.

Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone!

This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin.

And they call it a mine.

A mine!

This is no mine. It's a tomb.

No...

No!

Goblins.

We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here.

Now, get out of here. Get out!

-Frodo! -Help!

Strider!

-Help! -Get off him!

Aragorn!

Frodo!

Into the mines!

-Legolas! -Into the cave!

Run!

We now have but one choice.

We must face the long dark of Moria.

Be on your guard.

There are older and fouler things than Orcs...

...in the deep places of the world.

Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side.

Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed.

The wealth of Moria was not in gold...

...or jewels...

...but mithril.

Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him.

-Oh, that was a kingly gift. -Yes.

I never told him...

...but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire.

Pippin.

I have no memory of this place.

-Are we lost? -No.

-I think we are. -Gandalf's thinking.

-Merry? -What?

I'm hungry.

-There's something down there. -It's Gollum.

-Gollum? -He's been following us for three days.

-He escaped the dungeons of Barad-dur? -Escaped...

...or was set loose.

Now the Ring has brought him here.

He will never be rid of his need for it.

He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself.

Smeagol's life is a sad story.

Yes, Smeagol he was once called. Before the Ring found him.

Before it drove him mad.

It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance.

Pity?

It is pity that stayed Bilbo's hand.

Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life.

Can you give it to them, Frodo?

Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment.

Even the very wise cannot see all ends.

My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill...

...before this is over.

The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.

I wish the Ring had never come to me.

I wish none of this had happened.

So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.

There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil.

Bilbo was meant to find the Ring.

In which case, you also were meant to have it.

And that is an encouraging thought.

It's that way.

-He's remembered. -No.

But the air doesn't smell so foul down here.

If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose.

Let me risk a little more light.

Behold...

...the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf.

There's an eye opener, and no mistake.

Gimli!

No!

Oh, no.

No.

"Here lies Balin...

...son of Fundin...

...Lord of Moria."

He is dead, then.

It's as I feared.

We must move on. We cannot linger.

"They have taken the bridge and the second hall.

We have barred the gates...

...but cannot hold them for long.

The ground shakes.

Drums...

...drums in the deep.

We cannot get out.

A Shadow moves in the dark.

We cannot get out.

They are coming."

Fool of a Took!

Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!

Frodo!

Orcs!

Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!

They have a cave-troll.

Let them come!

There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath.

I think I'm getting the hang of this.

Frodo!

Aragorn! Aragorn!

Frodo!

Frodo!

Oh, no!

He's alive.

I'm all right. I'm not hurt.

You should be dead.

That spear would have skewered a wild boar.

I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye.

Mithril.

You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.

To the Bridge of Khazad-dum!

This way!

What is this new devilry?

A Balrog.

A demon of the ancient world.

This foe is beyond any of you.

Run!

Quickly!

Gandalf.

Lead them on, Aragorn.

The bridge is near.

Do as I say! Swords are no more use here.

Gandalf!

Merry! Pippin!

Sam!

Nobody tosses a Dwarf.

Not the beard!

Steady.

Hold on!

Hang on!

Lean forward!

Steady.

Come on!

Now!

Over the bridge!

Fly!

You cannot pass!

Gandalf!

I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor.

The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!

Go back to the Shadow.

You shall not pass!

-No! No! -Gandalf!

Fly, you fools!

No!

Aragorn!

Legolas, get them up.

Give them a moment, for pity's sake!

By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs.

We must reach the woods of Lothlorien.

Come, Boromir. Legolas. Gimli, get them up.

On your feet, Sam.

Frodo?

Frodo!

Stay close, young Hobbits!

They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods.

An Elf-witch...

...of terrible power.

All who look upon her...

...fall under her spell.

Frodo!

And are never seen again.

Your coming to us is as the footsteps of doom.

You bring great evil here, Ring-bearer.

Mr. Frodo?

Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily.

I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox.

The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark.

Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil.

Our Fellowship stands in your debt.

Aragorn of the Dunedain...

you are known to us.

So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves!

Speak words we can all understand!

We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days.

And you know what this Dwarf says to that?

That was not so courteous.

You bring great evil with you.

You can go no further.

Gandalf's death was not in vain.

Nor would he have you give up hope.

You carry a heavy burden, Frodo.

Don't carry the weight of the dead.

You will follow me.

Caras Galadhon.

The heart of Elvendom on earth.

Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light.

The enemy knows you have entered here.

What hope you had in secrecy is now gone.

Eight there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell.

Tell me, where is Gandalf?

For I much desire to speak with him.

I can no longer see him from afar.

Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land.

He has fallen into Shadow.

He was taken by both Shadow and flame.

A Balrog of Morgoth.

For we went needlessly into the net of Moria.

Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life.

We do not yet know his full purpose.

Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dum fill your heart...

...Gimli, son of Gloin.

For the world has grown full of peril...

...and in all lands...

...love is now mingled with grief.

What now becomes of this Fellowship?

Without Gandalf, hope is lost.

The quest stands upon the edge of a knife.

Stray but a little and it will fail...

...to the ruin of all.

Yet hope remains while the Company is true.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest...

...for you are weary with sorrow and much toil.

Tonight, you will sleep...

Welcome, Frodo of the Shire...

...one who has seen the Eye!

A lament for Gandalf.

What do they say about him?

I have not the heart to tell you.

For me, the grief is still too near.

I bet they don't mention his fireworks.

There should be a verse about them.

The finest rockets ever seen

They burst in stars of blue and green

Or after thunder, silver showers

Came falling like a rain of flowers

Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road.

Take some rest.

These borders are well-protected.

I will find no rest here.

I heard her voice inside my head.

She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor.

She said to me, "Even now there is hope left."

But I cannot see it.

It is long since we had any hope.

My father is a noble man.

But his rule is failing...

...and our people lose faith.

He looks to me to make things right, and I would do it.

I would see the glory of Gondor restored.

Have you ever seen it, Aragorn?

The White Tower of Ecthelion.

Glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver.

Its banners caught high in the morning breeze.

Have you ever been called home...

...by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?

I have seen the White City...

...long ago.

One day, our paths will lead us there.

And the tower guard shall take up the call:

"The Lords of Gondor have returned."

Will you look into the mirror?

What will I see?

Even the wisest cannot tell.

For the mirror...

...shows many things.

Things that were...

...things that are...

...and some things...

...that have not yet come to pass.

I know what it is you saw.

For it is also in my mind.

It is what will come to pass if you should fail.

The Fellowship is breaking. It is already begun.

He will try to take the Ring.

You know of whom I speak.

One by one, it will destroy them all.

If you ask it of me...

...I will give you the One Ring.

You offer it to me freely?

I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this.

In place of a Dark Lord, you would have a queen...

...not dark but beautiful, and terrible as the dawn!

Treacherous as the sea!

Stronger than the foundations of the earth!

All shall love me...

...and despair.

I pass the test. I will diminish...

...and go into the West...

-...and remain Galadriel. -I cannot do this alone.

You are a Ring-bearer, Frodo. To bear a Ring of Power...

...is to be alone.

This is Nenya, the Ring of Adamant.

And I am its keeper.

This task was appointed to you.

And if you do not find a way...

...no one will.

Then I know what I must do.

It's just...

...I'm afraid to do it.

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

Do you know how the Orcs first came into being?

They were Elves once.

Taken by the Dark Powers...

...tortured and mutilated.

A ruined and terrible form of life.

And now...

...perfected.

My fighting Uruk-hai...

...whom do you serve?

Saruman!

Hunt them down. Do not stop until they are found.

You do not know pain. You do not know fear.

You will taste Man-flesh!

One of the halflings carries something of great value.

Bring them to me alive and unspoiled.

Kill the others.

Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people.

May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes.

Lembas.

Elvish waybread.

One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man.

How many did you eat?

Four.

Every league you travel south, the danger will increase.

Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin.

Nor will you find safety on the western bank.

Strange creatures bearing the White Hand have been seen on our borders.

Seldom do Orcs journey in the open under the sun, yet these have done so.

You are being tracked.

By river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Falls of Rauros.

My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim.

Worthy of the skill of our woodland kin.

These are the daggers of the Noldorin.

They have already seen service in war.

Do not fear, young Peregrin Took.

You will find your courage.

And for you, Samwise Gamgee...

...Elven rope made of hithlain.

Thank you, my lady.

Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?

And what gift would a dwarf ask of the Elves?

Nothing.

Except to look upon the lady of the Galadhrim one last time...

...for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth.

Actually...

There was one thing.

No, no, I couldn't. It's quite impossible.

Stupid to ask.

I have nothing greater to give...

...than the gift you already bear.

For her love,

l fear the grace of Arwen Evenstar will diminish.

l would have her leave these shores,

and be with her people.

l would have her take the ship to Valinor.

That choice is yet before her.

You have your own choice to make, Aragorn.

To rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil...

...or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin.

Farewell.

There is much you have yet to do.

We shall not meet again...

Elessar.

Farewell, Frodo Baggins.

I give you the light of Earendil...

...our most beloved star.

May it be a light for you in dark places...

...when all other lights go out.

I have taken my worst wound at this parting...

...having looked my last upon that which is fairest.

Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me.

What was her gift?

I asked her for one hair from her golden head.

She gave me three.

Gollum. He has tracked us since Moria.

I had hoped we would lose him on the river.

But he's too clever a waterman.

And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts...

...it will make the crossing even more dangerous.

Have some food, Mr. Frodo.

-No, Sam. -You haven't eaten anything all day.

You're not sleeping, neither. Don't think I haven't noticed.

-Mr. Frodo... -I'm all right.

But you're not.

I'm here to help you.

I promised Gandalf that I would.

You can't help me, Sam.

Not this time.

Get some sleep.

Minas Tirith is the safer road.

You know that. From there we can regroup.

Strike out for Mordor from a place of strength.

There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us.

You were quick enough to trust the Elves.

Have you so little faith in your own people?

Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty.

But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men.

But you will not see that.

You are afraid!

All your life, you have hidden in the shadows.

Scared of who you are, of what you are.

I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city.

Frodo.

The Argonath.

Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old.

My kin.

We cross the lake at nightfall.

Hide the boats and continue on foot.

-We approach Mordor from the North. -Oh, yes?

Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil...

...an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks.

And after that, it gets even better.

Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see.

That is our road.

I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf.

Recover my...

-We should leave now. -No.

Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness.

It is not the eastern shore that worries me.

A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind.

Something draws near. I can feel it.

Recover strength? Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit.

Where's Frodo?

None of us should wander alone.

You, least of all.

So much depends on you.

Frodo?

I know why you seek solitude.

You suffer. I see it day by day.

You sure you do not suffer needlessly?

There are other ways, Frodo.

-Other paths that we might take. -I know what you would say.

It would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart.

Warning? Against what?

We're all afraid, Frodo.

But to let that fear drive us, to destroy what hope we have...

-...don't you see that is madness? -There is no other way.

I ask only for the strength to defend my people!

-If you would but lend me the Ring. -No.

-Why do you recoil? I am no thief. -You are not yourself.

What chance do you think you have?

They will find you. They will take the Ring.

And you will beg for death before the end!

You fool!

It is not yours, save by unhappy chance! It could have been mine.

It should be mine! Give it to me!

-Give it to me! -No!

-Give it to me! -No.

I see your mind.

You will take the Ring to Sauron!

You will betray us!

You'll go to your death, and the death of us all!

Curse you! Curse you and all the halflings!

Frodo?

Frodo.

What have I done?

Please, Frodo.

Frodo, I'm sorry!

Frodo?

-It has taken Boromir. -Where is the Ring?

Stay away!

Frodo!

-I swore to protect you. -Can you protect me from yourself?

Would you destroy it?

Aragorn.

Aragorn.

Elessar.

I would have gone with you to the end.

Into the very fires of Mordor.

I know.

Look after the others. Especially Sam. He will not understand.

Go, Frodo!

Run!

Run!

Mr. Frodo!

Find the halfling!

Find the halfling!

Elendil!

Aragorn, go!

Frodo!

Hide here. Quick!

Come on!

What's he doing?

He's leaving.

-No! -Pippin!

Run, Frodo. Go on!

-Hey! Hey, you! -Over here!

-Over here! -This way!

-It's working! -I know it's working! Run!

-The horn of Gondor. -Boromir.

Run!

No.

-They took the little ones. -Hold still.

Frodo. Where is Frodo?

I let Frodo go.

Then you did what I could not.

I tried to take the Ring from him.

-The Ring is beyond our reach now. -Forgive me.

I did not see it.

-I have failed you all. -No, Boromir.

You fought bravely.

You have kept your honor.

Leave it.

It is over.

The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness...

...and my city to ruin.

I do not know what strength is in my blood...

...but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall...

...nor our people fail.

Our people.

Our people.

I would have followed you, my brother.

My captain.

My king.

Be at peace...

...son of Gondor.

They will look for his coming from the White Tower.

But he will not return.

Frodo!

I wish the Ring had never come to me.

I wish none of this had happened.

So do all who live to see such times...

...but that is not for them to decide.

All you have to decide...

...is what to do with the time that is given to you.

Frodo, no!

Frodo!

-Mr. Frodo! -No, Sam.

Go back, Sam!

-I'm going to Mordor alone. -Of course you are.

And I'm coming with you!

You can't swim!

Sam!

Sam!

I made a promise, Mr. Frodo.

A promise: "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee."

And I don't mean to.

I don't mean to.

Sam.

Come on.

Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore.

-You mean not to follow them. -Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands.

Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed.

Not if we hold true to each other.

We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death.

Not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind.

We travel light.

Let us hunt some Orc.

Yes!

Mordor.

I hope the others find a safer road.

Strider will look after them.

I don't suppose we'll ever see them again.

We may yet, Mr. Frodo.

We may.

Sam...

...I'm glad you are with me.

The first 10 minutes of "The Fellowship of the Ring" renders all hype -- whether it's the kind that's bought and paid for or the kind generated by eager fans -- inconsequential. In adapting the story of hobbit Frodo Baggins and his mission to guard and ultimately destroy a ring that has the power to bring cursed evil upon the world, director Peter Jackson has given us an epic in the true sense, with none of the pretentious fakery that the word "epic" has come to imply.

"The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring"

Directed by Peter Jackson
Starring Elijah Wood, Ian McKellen, Viggo Mortensen, Cate Blanchett, Christopher Lee, Ian Holm, Sean Bean, and Liv Tyler
 Jackson's approach is refreshingly egalitarian: I had feared that "The Fellowship of the Rings" would be a ferociously clubby movie, one that would, with a snobbish sniff, shut out people unfamiliar with Tolkien's books.

My guess, though, is that most fans of the books will warm to Jackson's version (even if the story has been streamlined a bit, with some characters' roles enhanced and other figures sliced out altogether). And as for everyone else, Jackson makes all the right moves in reaching out to them.

He explains the essential back story in a fleet, graceful expository passage at the beginning: In ancient times, in an undefined place, a set of powerful golden rings were forged and dispersed to various kingdoms across the land. The dark lord Sauron himself made the One Ring, the ring that would complete and intensify the power of all the others. But the ring was taken from him, and ages later, it accidentally found its way into the hands of a humble Hobbit by the name of Bilbo Baggins (here played by Ian Holm). Sauron will stop at nothing to get the ring back, but he needs to find it first. That's the tale told in "The Hobbit," the prequel to Tolkien's trilogy.

As the movie opens, the aged Bilbo has decided to bequeath the ring to his favorite cousin, Frodo (Elijah Wood), who is unaware of its significance. A great wizard, Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellen), clues Frodo in to its dangerous powers, and urges him to transport the ring to the one place where it can be destroyed forever. Frodo sets out, along the way assembling a ragtag crew of colleagues. Some of them, like Frodo's faithful friend Sam (Sean Astin), come from the hobbits' home, the grassy, idyllic Shire. Gimli (John Rhys-Davis) is a gruff, rough dwarf. Strider (Viggo Mortensen) is a mysterious human who understands how crucial it is to keep the ring out of Sauron's hands. And Legolas (Orlando Bloom) is a golden-handsome Elf warrior.

Jackson captures the spirit and flavor of Tolkien's storytelling in the way he lays the group's adventures before us. Early on we're introduced to the Black Riders, a nightmare-haunting group of faceless horsemen who have been sent by Sauron to find and capture the ring. They're the movie's earliest clue that "The Fellowship of the Ring" isn't going to be a sprightly, cheerful jaunt: At moments, in fact, it's terrifying.

"The Fellowship of the Ring" is soaked around the edges with a melancholy darkness, which is part of what gives it such resonance and depth. (At this point I need to make a special plea to all those cranky souls who have no patience for ren-faire and sword-and-sorcery bullcrap: My brothers and sisters, I feel your pain, but "The Fellowship of the Ring" is too big and too masterly to be scrunched into those puny categories.)

Jackson unfurls the action so that it drifts into graceful peaks and valleys; the picture is a marvel of pacing, built on the premise that the proper flow of tension and suspense is the most powerful special effect of all, not to mention the cheapest. "The Fellowship of the Ring" looks lavish but never wasteful, miraculous given the way everything in Hollywood these days costs big money, and yet nothing looks like it. (Compared with "Fellowship," the gaudy and lifeless "Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone" looks like a play mounted at a school for rich kids, where no expense was spared in the attempt to cover up clumsy amateurishness.)

Jackson doesn't scrimp on staging, and the images and scenery have a grand, burnished richness. His battle sequences are magnificently plotted, and shot so that every angle of the action is clear. (They're thrilling, but they also invoke the peril of warfare. There's always the sense that people -- in other words, characters you've come to care about -- could die.)

He shows us immense landscapes of snow or forest or rolling greenery that make us feel incredibly small and inescapably human. And his special effects are so seamless, so organic to the scenes in which they appear, that you often spot them, dreamlike, first out of the corner of your eye. (I gasped in disbelief as I watched a tidal wave, conjured by an Elf princess, swiftly but subtly transform into a herd of galloping horses, their heads and manes defined by dancing crystals of water.)

This is moviemaking on a grand scale, which is not to say that it's merely a big, impressive movie. (Any old goat can make one of those.) The crucial distinction is that Jackson's sense of scale is impeccable. The vistas are huge and wondrous, the special effects sparkling: But Jackson also trains the eye on details that, more than anything else, define the movie's rich, dreamy look.

The cloaks worn by Frodo and his gang are clasped with delicate green enamel pins in the shape of an art nouveau leaf. As readers of the Tolkien books know, the clasps will ultimately have a special role. Even so, considering that most of us understand the visual shorthand of movie props and costumes, there's no reason they'd have to be so exquisitely made. As it is, with their tendrils and fragile veins, they look like family heirlooms, and they're valuable grace notes to the look of the movie. Unlike the painstakingly re-created carpets and china patterns of James Cameron's "Titanic," obsessive details that just get swallowed up in the blur of the movie's hubris anyway, these cloak pins are a bit of visual music to go along with the story.

They also help establish its gorgeous pre-Raphaelite look. Rivendell is filled with architectural details (trellises, gazebos) that echo the graceful swoops and swirls of nature -- if Alphonse Mucha were a production designer, he'd be proud to put his name on it. (As it is, production designer Grant Major is the one who deserves the credit.) Cate Blanchett plays Galadriel, a bewitching but foreboding Elf queen, and the movie makes perfect use of the actress's floating carriage and luminescent porcelain skin: Her Galadriel is an enchantress who's floated out of an Edward Burne-Jones painting.

Visual cues like that one give "The Fellowship of the Ring" a glow that's both ancient and redolent of the turn of the last century. They also establish it as a love letter of sorts to England, specifically to the beauty of the English countryside, which Tolkien so loved. Cinematographer Andrew Lesnie ("Babe," "Babe: Pig in the City") shoots the billowing, grassy hills so that they sing out with love for that countryside -- no matter that it wasn't filmed there: Through Lesnie's lens New Zealand is its spiritual twin.

And yet the secret to the great wonder of "The Fellowship of the Ring" lies not just in Jackson's ability to marshal detail and action and panorama to do his bidding. It's in the way he opens his camera to the faces of his performers. Most "big" movies make a human sacrifice of their actors; that's become so common it's almost an accepted practice. (You had to paw through the rubble of "The Phantom Menace" to get any sense of its star, Ewan McGregor.)

"The Fellowship of the Ring" is a big movie in its scope and vision. But Jackson makes it work on a much more intimate level as well, by allowing the faces of the characters to tell the story in its most emotional terms. The great Christopher Lee appears as the once good, now malevolent wizard Saruman, and, with his robes and long white hair, he looks like an evil Jesus. Jackson shoots Lee's face, with its noble, hooked contours, as if it were one of the world's great landscapes. Ian McKellen's Gandalf has a silvery nobility that's never overplayed -- he's a wizard who clearly understands that the glimmering undercurrents of magic are just as powerful as its giant signs and explosions.

Sean Astin's Sam, Frodo's cheerful and devoted companion, has a face that's almost heartbreakingly open. And Elijah Wood's Frodo holds the camera captivated in just about every one of his scenes. He shows equal parts boyishness and gravity. His face, all immense eyes, still glows with youthful innocence, but there's also something fearfully mature about it: If you've read the books, you'll see how that look points the way to the darker, more devastating turns this story will take from here. (The two sequels, "The Two Towers" and "The Return of the King," have already been shot and are scheduled to be released at Christmastime in 2002 and 2003, respectively.)

"The Fellowship of the Ring" could have gone wrong in so many ways. As it is, though, I see it as nearly perfect: It's one of the best fantasy pictures ever made. And it's a lovely example of how, with care and thought and not all that much money (Jackson will have made all three "Rings" movies for less than $300 million), a director can successfully capture the mood and feel of a book on the big screen. (I read and enjoyed the books more than 25 years ago, but the details of them had gone hazy. Jackson brought them back more vividly than I could have hoped.)

Most of us are happy enough these days to go to the movies and not get screwed, so rarely does a movie even keep its promises, much less surpass them. That's why "The Fellowship of the Ring" is something of a miracle. It makes the great potentialities of movies seem realistic and achievable. Inventive, magical and relatively inexpensive, it proves that throwing money at a movie doesn't necessarily make it good -- an idea that should be much easier for Hollywood to grasp than it actually is.

Writing about Bernardo Bertolucci's "1900," Pauline Kael identified the distinction between studio-driven big-budget pictures and those that are powered by the skill and vision of a filmmaker. "The artist-initiated epic is an obsessive testing of possibilities, and often it comes out of an overwhelming desire to express what the artist thinks are the unconscious needs of the public. It comes, too, from a conviction, or a hope, that if you give popular audiences the greatest you have in you they will respond."

"The Fellowship of the Ring" throws down a daunting challenge to filmmakers everywhere, and even more so to the studios that back them. Audiences deserve the greatest you have in you. If you've made money off giving them anything less, it was just dumb luck. From now on, they'll know they have a right to magic.

Such notions about Hobbits can be found in "Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring," but the Hobbits themselves have been pushed off center stage. If the books are about brave little creatures who enlist powerful men and wizards to help them in a dangerous crusade, the movie is about powerful men and wizards who embark on a dangerous crusade, and take along the Hobbits. That is not true of every scene or episode, but by the end "Fellowship" adds up to more of a sword and sorcery epic than a realization of the more naive and guileless vision of J. R. R. Tolkien.

The Ring Trilogy embodies the kind of innocence that belongs to an earlier, gentler time. The Hollywood that made "The Wizard of Oz" might have been equal to it. But "Fellowship" is a film that comes after "Gladiator" and "Matrix," and it instinctively ramps up to the genre of the overwrought special-effects action picture. That it transcends this genre--that it is a well-crafted and sometimes stirring adventure--is to its credit. But a true visualization of Tolkien's Middle-earth it is not.

Wondering if the trilogy could possibly be as action-packed as this film, I searched my memory for sustained action scenes and finally turned to the books themselves, which I had not read since the 1970s. The chapter "The Bridge of Khazad-Dum" provides the basis for perhaps the most sensational action scene in the film, in which Gandalf the wizard stands on an unstable rock bridge over a chasm, and must engage in a deadly swordfight with the monstrous Balrog. This is an exciting scene, done with state-of-the-art special effects and sound that shakes the theater. In the book, I was not surprised to discover, the entire scene requires less than 500 words.

Settling down with my book, the one-volume, 1969 India paper edition, I read or skimmed for an hour or so. It was as I remembered it. The trilogy is mostly about leaving places, going places, being places, and going on to other places, all amid fearful portents and speculations. There are a great many mountains, valleys, streams, villages, caves, residences, grottos, bowers, fields, high roads, low roads, and along them the Hobbits and their larger companions travel while paying great attention to mealtimes. Landscapes are described with the faithful detail of a Victorian travel writer. The travelers meet strange and fascinating characters along the way, some of them friendly, some of them not, some of them of an order far above Hobbits or even men. Sometimes they must fight to defend themselves or to keep possession of the ring, but mostly the trilogy is an unfolding, a quest, a journey, told in an elevated, archaic, romantic prose style that tests our capacity for the declarative voice.

Reading it, I remembered why I liked it in the first place. It was reassuring. You could tell by holding the book in your hands that there were many pages to go, many sights to see, many adventures to share. I cherished the way it paused for songs and poems, which the movie has no time for. Like The Tale of Genji, which some say is the first novel, "The Lord of the Rings" is not about a narrative arc or the growth of the characters, but about a long series of episodes in which the essential nature of the characters is demonstrated again and again (and again). The ring, which provides the purpose for the journey, serves Tolkien as the ideal MacGuffin, motivating an epic quest while mostly staying right there on a chain around Frodo Baggins' neck.

Peter Jackson, the New Zealand director who masterminded this film (and two more to follow, in a $300 million undertaking), has made a work for, and of, our times. It will be embraced, I suspect, by many Tolkien fans and take on aspects of a cult. It is a candidate for many Oscars. It is an awesome production in its daring and breadth, and there are small touches that are just right; the Hobbits may not look like my idea of Hobbits (may, indeed, look like full-sized humans made to seem smaller through visual trickery), but they have the right combination of twinkle and pluck in their gaze--especially Elijah Wood as Frodo and Ian Holm as the worried Bilbo.

Yet the taller characters seem to stand astride the little Hobbit world and steal the story away. Gandalf the good wizard (Ian McKellen) and Saruman the treacherous wizard (Christopher Lee) and Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), who is the warrior known as Strider, are so well-seen and acted, so fearsome in battle, that we can't imagine the Hobbits getting anywhere without them. The elf Arwen (Liv Tyler), the Elf Queen Galadriel (Cate Blanchett) and Arwen's father, Elrond (Hugo Weaving), are not small like literary elves ("very tall they were," the book tells us), and here they tower like Norse gods and goddesses, accompanied by so much dramatic sound and lighting that it's a wonder they can think to speak, with all the distractions.

Jackson has used modern special effects to great purpose in several shots, especially one where a massive wall of water forms and reforms into the wraiths of charging stallions. I like the way he handles crowds of Orcs in the big battle scenes, wisely knowing that in a film of this kind, realism has to be tempered with a certain fanciful fudging. The film is remarkably well made. But it does go on, and on, and on--more vistas, more forests, more sounds in the night, more fearsome creatures, more prophecies, more visions, more dire warnings, more close calls, until we realize this sort of thing can continue indefinitely. "This tale grew in the telling," Tolkien tells us in the famous first words of his foreword; it's as if Tolkien, and now Jackson, grew so fond of the journey, they dreaded the destination.

That "Fellowship of the Ring" doesn't match my imaginary vision of Middle-earth is my problem, not yours. Perhaps it will look exactly as you think it should. But some may regret that the Hobbits have been pushed out of the foreground and reduced to supporting characters. And the movie depends on action scenes much more than Tolkien did. In a statement last week, Tolkien's son Christopher, who is the "literary protector" of his father's works, said, "My own position is that 'The Lord of the Rings' is peculiarly unsuitable to transformation into visual dramatic form." That is probably true, and Jackson, instead of transforming it, has transmuted it, into a sword-and-sorcery epic in the modern style, containing many of the same characters and incidents.

When Tolkien began writing The Hobbit in the 1930s, he was unaware that he was essentially defining a genre. Tolkien was not the first author to write what would eventually be labeled as "fantasy", but his synthesis of elements - mythology, stories of larger-than-life heroism, the supernatural, and fairy tales - was unique. Nothing on the scale or scope of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings had previously been seen - not even the legends of King Arthur, Merlin, and Camelot were as well developed or executed.

The Hobbit, the prequel to The Lord of the Rings, was first published in 1937. The first two volumes of The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers, were released in 1954. The final book, The Return of the King, reached British bookstores in 1955. It was another ten years before Ballantine Books published the four novels in the United States - and that's when the series' popularity took off. By the time of his death in 1973, Tolkien, although not a household name, was certainly well-known. In 1978, Rankin-Bass, taking advantage of the growing Tolkien-mania, produced a poorly-animated TV version of The Hobbit, featuring the voices of John Huston and Orson Bean. Later that year, Ralph Bakshi's ill-fated cinematic animated adaptation of the first half of The Lord of the Rings trilogy bombed at the box office, killing Bakshi's hopes of making a second film. In 1980, Rankin-Bass entered the breach left by Baski's incomplete work, making The Return of the King in the same style as The Hobbit, and once again featuring Huston and Bean. So, with the exception of the second half of The Two Towers, all of Tolkien's four-book saga has been brought to the screen in one form or another. Yet, the story gaps, inconsistencies, and poor quality of animation have always rankled Tolkien fans.

In the late 1990s, New Zealand-based director Peter Jackson (Heavenly Creatures) had two projects on the drawing board - a remake of King Kong and an ambitious, three-film adaptation of The Lord of the Rings. For a while, it looked like King Kong would get the go-ahead, but the project was squashed in the wake of the failure of Sony's Godzilla and Disney's Mighty Joe Young. So, Jackson turned his attention to The Lord of the Rings. After briefly being courted and jilted by Miramax Films, Jackson found a backer in New Line Cinema. The Time-Warner company invested nearly $300 million for the package deal of all three movies, which were filmed back-to-back-to-back. (Including publicity and marketing, the overall price tag will approach $500 million.)

To say that fantasy movies have not been a big draw at the box office is to understate the matter. A lot of this has had to do with the poor quality of the product. Consider the evidence: titles like Willow, Dragonheart, and Dungeons and Dragons. Finally, 2001 has seen the belated emergence of fantasy as a legitimate cinematic genre. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was one of the year's most anticipated releases and, by the end of December, it will be one of the top money-makers of the past 12 months. Now, along comes The Lord of the Rings, as anticipated for 30-50 year olds and Harry Potter was for their children.

As entertaining as Harry Potter may be, it cannot hold a candle to The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. With this production, Jackson has used The Lord of the Rings to re-invent fantasy for the cinema in the same way that the novel provided the blueprint for the written word. This astounding movie accomplishes what no other fantasy film has been able to do: transport viewers to an entirely different reality, immerse them in it, and maroon them there for nearly three hours. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring brings Middle Earth to glorious life. From the first moment of the first reel, I was there.

The Fellowship of the Ring begins in the quiet countryside of the Shire, where Bilbo Baggins of Bag End (Ian Holm), a hobbit, is celebrating his 111th birthday. In attendance, among other people, are Bilbo's young heir, Frodo (Elijah Wood), and the wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellan). Gandalf informs Bilbo that the time has come for him to leave Bag End and go on a journey. To Frodo, he leaves his home and his most beloved possession, a magical ring that turns the wearer invisible. But this isn't just any magical ring - it is the One Ring, forged by the Dark Lord, Sauron, and capable of corrupting the wearer. Sauron's servants, the Ring Wraiths, are scouring Middle Earth for it, since, when it is returned to their master, nothing will be able to stop him. All of the world is about to be plunged into war, and the only way to stop the evil will be to destroy the ring by casting it into the fire where it was forged - in Mordor, on the Dark Lord's doorstep. That unenviable task falls to Frodo, the ring bearer.

Frodo starts his journey in the company of three other hobbits - his faithful servant, Sam (Sean Astin), and his cousins, Merry (Dominic Monaghan) and Pippin (Billy Boyd). Later, as the dangers mount and Frodo faces even greater challenges, others join his company: the humans Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) and Boromir (Sean Bean), the wizard Gandalf, the elf Legolas (Orlando Bloom), and the dwarf Gimli (John Rhys-Davies). Together, these nine individuals must face ring wraiths, orcs, and worse; travel through strange lands and the dreaded mines of Moria; and face mistrust within their fellowship. And this is all just the first of three cinematic chapters...

Lord of the Rings devotees will be delighted to learn that the motion picture adaptation is as faithful as one could imagine possible (and, consequently, is nearly three hours in length). Jackson and his co-screenwriters (Fran Walsh & Philippa Boyens) do an excellent job condensing more than five hundred pages of text into a script that never feels choppy, uneven, or rushed. The Fellowship of the Ring moves fluidly and, in the process, exhilarates. Certain scenes have been cut or condensed in the name of pacing, and the role of one character (Arwen) has been expanded to enhance a romantic angle, something that was largely absent from Tolkien's work.

First and foremost, The Lord of the Rings is an adventure, and, in that, it is relentlessly successful. One does not need to have read the books to appreciate the movie. The background is explained concisely in a voiceover prologue, and the action proceeds in a straightforward manner. As long as one enjoys a well-crafted adventure yarn set against the backdrop of a mythical clash between good and evil, The Lord of the Rings will satisfy. Like all great movies of this sort, this one is characterized by tremendous action scenes punctuated by moments of rest and reflection. So, we have the flight from the Shire, followed by the council at Rivendell, followed by the hazardous trek through Moria (the movie's high point), followed by the encounter with Galadriel, followed by the sundering of the fellowship. Along the way, there is triumph, sorrow, and a little philosophical depth. The Lord of the Rings emphasizes two themes: the importance of brotherhood and the need for true strength to come from within.

In crafting his vision of Middle Earth, Jackson has employed all of the tricks available to him: miniatures, deceptive camera angles, location shooting, impressive set design, and matte paintings. He has also made use of computer graphics, but not to the extent that another director might have. Thus, The Lord of the Rings has a less artificial appearance than might have been the case if Jackson had relied too heavily on CGI technology. Andrew Lesnie's camerawork has the grand scope expected in an epic motion picture, and Howard Shore's score, which is at times heroic and at times thoughtful, compliments the visuals without ever calling attention to itself.

The Lord of the Rings is not an actors' movie, but each member of the cast acquits himself or herself well. Of special note are Ian McKellan, who presents Gandalf as a vulnerable and sympathetic figure; Ian Holm, whose Bilbo Baggins is a weary and tortured individual; and Elijah Wood, who shows the gradual changes in Frodo as he is transformed from a carefree hobbit to the person upon whom the fate of the world rests. Some recognizable names fill small roles - Liv Tyler is surprisingly good as Arwen; Cate Blanchett is cool and regal as Galadriel; and Christopher Lee brings his chilling presence to the part of the treacherous, traitorous Sauruman.

The strength of Jackson's vision as depicted in The Fellowship of the Ring gives movie-goers cause to hope that we may be in the midst of a cinematic achievement. If The Two Towers and The Return of the King live up to the standard set by this film, The Lord of the Rings will become a milestone not only for its genre, but for motion pictures in general. But, regardless of what the future brings, the single movie we now have before us stands out as one of the most rousing examples of entertainment to reach multiplexes in a long time. At last, someone has figured out how to do an epic fantasy justice on the big screen.

Who is Isildur's heir?
What meal comes between breakfast and elevenses?
Who said, "Orcs: I hate these guys"?
Okay, the last one's a trick question: That line will be uttered by Crow T. Robot on the alternate-universe incarnation of Mystery Science Theater 3000, on which Joel and the bots are not only still hurling snark at bad movies that richly deserve it but are also taking on the most marvelous pillars of fannish obsession, the Star Warses and the Wizard of Ozes and the like. They do this because this is how fans recognize the very foundations of fandom: by drawing in references to all the many things we love that have a bit of those pillars in them. Is there a little Frodo Baggins in Indiana Jones (who, for the uninitiated, said, "Nazis: I hate these guys")? Sure there is. Is there a lot of Frodo in Luke Skywalker or The Stand's Stu Redman? You bet.
 

So, just as any science-fictional or fantastical movie hero facing seemingly insurmountable odds may be encouraged along with a hearty "Use the Force, Luke," Luke himself may be heard to say, out of the mouths of a fannish audience, that he's "not in Kansas anymore" at an appropriate moment. There's nothing snide in pulling a Mystery Science Theater on a beloved film: it's a tribute to its enduring wonderfulness and to the prototypicalness that allows it to endure.

Peter Jackson's visualization of the first book of The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, surely will inspire such hushed commentary from the geek peanut gallery, because that's what geeks do: it's one of the very things that defines us as geeks, the eternal interconnecting of everything we love. And LOTR: FOTR will earn such instant approval -- that comfortable greeting we give to old friends -- because although this may be a new film, Jackson has adapted this very beloved pillar of fandom so perfectly that it feels like we've known it forever.

Other critics have already dragged out the $10 words to describe this film -- some of the ones I'd chose myself are "seductive," "masterful," "majestic," and "elegant" -- and you must believe what they say because they say True Things. But the one thing that strikes me most about LOTR: FOTR, besides its seductively masterful and majestic elegance, is simply how utterly right it is. Books have been adapted well before, and will be again, but Jackson has gone more than a step beyond merely casting it flawlessly and sticking a camera on that cast as they speak words out of a novel. Movies very rarely -- maybe never -- capture the voice of an author, and its generally assumed that it isn't really possible to do so, that prose and film are too different as mediums to allow for the intact translation from the one to the other. But Jackson has done it. I don't pretend to know how. But there's never a moment in all the three short hours of this film that rings false, nary a piece of dialogue about ancient evils or eleventy-first birthdays that sounds like it's coming out of the mouth of anyone having anything to do with a Renaissance Festival. Not even the bits in Elvish. Not even the bits in Elvish spoken by Liv Tyler.

It's almost impossible to describe the feeling of seeing a beloved book brought to life so faultlessly -- it's easy when they get it wrong, and it's fun to tear a film like that apart and moan about how this bit was absurd and that one was completely miscast. For this, there are no words. It's as if Jackson (who adapted Tolkien's book with Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens) reached right into the depth of my imagination and transferred what he found there to the screen. It's a little scary, like something out of The Matrix: how'd he know precisely what Bag End, Bilbo Baggins' (Ian Holm: From Hell, Bless the Child) house, looks like? Jackson clearly drew on Tolkien's own illustrations, but still... From the fires of the evil Mount Doom to the pleasant, rolling green hills of the Shire ("New Zealand is Middle Earth!"), every scrap of landscape gave me chills: I've been there in my mind already, and here it is, come to life (book me on the next flight Down Under).

The nine Black Riders -- the Ring Wraiths who were once men and are now mere shadows of beings, who seek the One Ring of Power -- and their oily black steeds: perfect. Jackson captures how viscerally, elementally frightening they are by showing us the fear they inspire in ordinary mortal beings: the man who hides and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping against hope that the Rider passing him by will do so without noticing him. (Add the preternatural screams of the wraiths, and stir.) And what happens when some poor soul puts that Ring of Power on his finger and lets it begin to worm its evil way into his heart? If a sick feeling in your stomach could be depicted visually, this maelstrom of evil Jackson presents to us would be it.

But the happy things are perfect, too. Every lovely, round, jolly hobbit face, including the third cute hobbit child on the left in the party scene, are, unquestionably, hobbity. Elijah Wood (The Faculty, Deep Impact) is, simply, beautiful as Frodo Baggins, down to his dirty fingernails (how Jackson made the 5-foot-7-ish Wood look utterly convincingly 3-foot-hobbitish is beyond my understanding of special effects). Of course, the happy things are here to be tainted by darkness. Wood understands the particular anguish of someone who's known only cheerful, earthy hedonism (easygoing hobbits love the good life) thrust into danger beyond his comprehension, never more so than when he comes under physical attack from forces of evil -- his heartrending screams of genuine terror and pain seem to encompass much more than mere physical injury but also a despair against the psychic affront to his sensibilities. This kind of thing is not supposed to happen to a nice hobbit.

Which makes Jackson's Lord of the Rings so much more relevant that he could have imagined back when he first began the project. The innocence and comfort of Frodo and his people is shattered by a sudden encroachment of evil, from quarters entirely unexpected -- the lovely Shire could be destroyed forever if the Ring were to fall into the hands of a corrupt enemy. But we don't choose the times we live in, Gandalf the wizard (Ian McKellen: X-Men, Apt Pupil) reminds Frodo when the hobbit wishes he'd never been burdened with the Ring, which only he can destroy. We don't chose except what to do with ourselves in troubled times.

Frodo's predicament feels like ours, today, which is probably why I felt quite out of breath by the end of the film, like I'd run with Frodo halfway across the Shire, through the dire Mines of Moria, and into evil Mordor. If The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring seems like a dream come true, it's partly because it reflects our own collective nightmare at the moment. Combine that with the pure perfection of the adaptation from Tolkien, and this is a film to sear its way into your imagination... if it wasn't already there.