Peter Jackson
Il Signore Degli Anelli

When reviewing Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy, I like to highlight what I believe are the most significant aspects of the underlying material of the film. In this process, one cannot ignore Tolkien's novel, of which the cinematic trilogy is a faithful reflection (though, in my opinion, excellently executed), even if the director and screenwriters took some liberties from Tolkien's text. In this review, I am not interested in focusing on the technical aspects of the three films that make up the trilogy or the differences between the novel's plot and the films since much has already been written by others on these topics. Instead, I am interested in focusing on the element I find most fascinating about The Lord of the Rings (both the novel and, consequently, the film): namely, how this "fairy tale," so complex and filled with characters and strange creatures, rich with subplots that run parallel to the main one and intertwine with it, is ultimately a deep reflection on the nature of man and his history.  It's not my intention to delve too deeply into Tolkienian cosmogony, but I must provide some coordinates to those who have not read Tolkien's books. First of all, Tolkien divides Arda (his imaginary universe) into two zones distinctly separated by the great sea of Belegaer: the lands to the West and the lands to the East: he decides to set all the main stories that characterize the Third Age within the scenario of Middle-earth. During the years that make up the Third Age of Arda's chronology, the most important events revolve around the race of Men; and Middle-earth represents the natural stage where Men move, characterized as they are by being "earthly," "material," "heavy" (in the very sense of gravity), little interested in all those activities typical of Elves who, on the other hand, are characterized by "lightness," as exemplified by their way of walking: poetry, love for the artistic and creative act, the pursuit of perfection, love, and respect for the natural world.  The history of the Men of Numenor during the Second Age and of Middle-earth during the Third is a powerful metaphor for the history of humanity. It's no coincidence that the Third Age is also when the Elves permanently abandon Middle-earth, no longer recognizing those places as suitable for their nature, and preferring to reach the Valar, their creators in Valinor, the "Undying Lands" to the West. In Tolkien's metaphor, it seems that Elves are what humans would like to be, and indeed Elves are what Men could potentially be if only they truly wished to be. And although Men have many potentials as demonstrated by the initial rise and splendor of their kingdoms of Arnor (in the north) and Gondor (in the south), due to their nature which ultimately leads them toward deep decadence through wars and divisions, they prove to be easy prey to deceptive illusions, trapped in networks of deceit woven in various forms by the "dark lord" or his emissaries. It may seem, on first reading, that Sauron, the dark lord, or a metaphorical representation of absolute evil, is the source of all the problems of Middle-earth and Men.  In reality, in my view, Sauron is merely a sublimation of the other side of a single coin.  I will attempt to explain this concept, which might seem strange to many. As in all works of classic fairy-tale or imaginary mold, Tolkien assumes that the driving forces of the universe are light and shadow: that is, good and evil. From their continuous conflictual motion arises all the dynamics that decree the movements of the various pieces on the chessboard. Moreover, as we all know, having experienced it in our lives, it would not be possible to experience fear and hatred if only good and love existed in our world. Now, due to our cultural approach, we tend to simplify things, and therefore we tend to create a perception aimed at sharply separating good from evil. This approach finds its foundations in all religions: for example, in the more orthodox interpretative tradition of the Bible (the Christian-Catholic one), the dichotomy between Good and Evil is represented through the opposition between God and Lucifer. In other words, we consider God as something that has generated us and is therefore intimately linked to our nature (it is the force that gives life and love) while we consider Lucifer as something exogenic to us or that comes to us from outside through temptations that cause the corruption of something that in itself would instead be perfect. In other terms, committing "bad actions" is always justifiable for reasons external to us: we conceal the truth because it is convenient for us to do so, and in the end, we even believe that it is better for everyone, we create mental schemes to self-justify our weaknesses or fears. We apply daily the law of retaliation "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" (well present in the "Old Testament" of the Bible) and hypocritically pretend to always be ready to "turn the other cheek." All this leads us to think that upon closer inspection, human action does not have two distinct opposing forces as its matrix, creating the dynamics of history, but that there is only a single and indivisible force that moves all our actions, namely the struggle for survival in the first instance and the constant improvement of one's condition in the second.  As our history shows, it is in human nature to not be satisfied with the goals achieved, but to strive to reach a better condition of life than the current one: and it is precisely this characteristic that is unique to man and distinguishes him from other animals, as the only drive that moves the actions of other animals is exclusively survival. After all, here Tolkien owes a debt to the biblical myth of the "transgression of the limits" imposed by God on man and the consequent expulsion from Eden. Following this approach, which gives a representation of man as an entity that has in itself a single drive, manifesting sometimes in good actions and sometimes in bad actions, completely resolves the dichotomy between Good and Evil, between light and darkness, perceiving them both as the two sides of the same coin. From this continuum, from this unique primal and visceral force, arise all the dynamics. Even in Tolkien's work, the dichotomy, which at first might seem to oppose Sauron (or his ancient Lord Morgoth) to the "good" spirits of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth, on closer inspection resolves by creating a unity that substantiates in the co-action of the Free Peoples parallel to Sauron (Isildur does not destroy the One Ring because he wants to use it for his purposes of greatness). The Dark Lord would have done very little if Men hadn't ensured his spirit could endure (as in previous eras the Elves had also done): sure, sometimes indirectly and unintentionally, but as Tolkien seems to suggest, humans, by fully expressing their nature, at the same moment they strive to achieve ambitious goals, perhaps even motivated by good intentions, ultimately end up causing destruction. And this is especially the key point that allows for, in my opinion, a structural interpretation of Tolkien's entire metaphor: the substantial differences that can be traced among the various races and among the main characters are played out precisely on this plane. There are races and characters who, without necessarily acting in favor of Good or Evil, in their actions show a lack of respect for everything other than themselves, and particularly for the natural world (Eä: the world created by the Valar, which is the supreme and most elevated act of creation), while there are others who identify themselves as part of a totality that goes beyond their singularity, and in their actions pay enormous attention not to force the "natural" course of events and to always act with respect for others, having even a loving veneration for Eä.  For example, Elves and Men, as well as certain Maia (spirits of high lineage, second only to the Valar) like Saruman, the Balrog of Moria, and Sauron himself, through their actions, beyond their purposes, have nonetheless committed terrible acts of violence against Eä. Let us bear in mind, for example, that it is certainly true that Elves represent what is closest to the superior spirits of the Valar, but it is equally true that even the Elves, in their incessant pursuit of "beauty" and "perfection," although driven by their good faith, have often facilitated the schemes of the "Enemy" and have opened the doors to the corruption of Eä. Upon closer inspection, therefore, Elves represent only a "beautiful copy" of Men: I believe that for Tolkien, the worst effect brought with the "original sin" (that is, the desire to overcome one's own limits), the true condemnation of all the races of Middle-earth, is the corruption of the natural world which is perfect as it is and needs immense respect from those who inhabit it. A similar fate is that of the Dwarves, who, driven by the endless accumulation of wealth, primarily caused wounds on Middle-earth, digging deep and caring for nothing but their own fate, completely uninterested in events on the surface world. In this scenario of a multitude of races engaged in dominating for one reason or another, simply driven by the irresistible desire to surpass their limits, the humble and small Hobbits stand out. A race that is barely interested in expanding its domains beyond the lands of its beloved Shire: their visceral love for Mother Earth and everything Eä has to offer is perceived as a continuous gift to be cultivated with care and love and to be fully enjoyed. Hobbits are little interested in what happens outside of their borders, as they are busy tending and cultivating the land that, thanks to their care, is always lush and fertile. It is no coincidence that Gandalf has a loving fondness for Hobbits, and it is no coincidence that Tolkien entrusts Frodo with the task of resisting the inherent corruption of the most powerful artifact ever created in Middle-earth. Only a Hobbit with an innocent heart like Frodo, helped by his faithful friend Sam, could bear the burden of corruption and the temptation of power. The innocence and naivety of the Hobbits turn from apparent weakness into a decisive factor of infinite strength to overcome the great corrupt wisdom and bearer of false truths (the alchemy and sorcery of Sauron and his servant Saruman). The eagerness of Sauron and Saruman to impose their will on the world with violence (incessantly animated by the longing to surpass their limits imposed by Nature) was as intense as Frodo and Sam's desire to simply return to their beloved Shire. And while Aragorn and the other members of the Fellowship of the Ring were forced at those moments to endure epic battles where their warrior skills were severely tested, Frodo had to face a much harder struggle: to fight against himself, against the invisible force of corruption instilled by Sauron in the Ring. Frodo's journey represents the real battle of man opposing his intimate nature of surpassing his limits: a battle that, as Tolkien seems to suggest, he has no chance of winning because, in fact, Frodo, at the decisive moment, when he can finally make the decision to throw the Ring into the volcano's mouth, cannot oppose his will to that of the Ring (and thus cannot oppose his presumption) and the mission is only completed due to Gollum's theft of the Ring and his fortuitous fall into the chasm of Mount Doom.  Frodo, with his dramatic experience, had to pay a very high price, the loss of his naivety, his innocence, his "virginity," and it is for this reason that he decides to leave his Shire, sailing with the last ship bound for the Undying Lands along with Bilbo, the Elves, and Gandalf. In Tolkien's worldview, the fate that befell Frodo, which was also the same that befell Isildur in his time, reflects what can happen to men who let their intimate potentials (such as impulses to surpass themselves, selfishness, the urge to wield power) get out of control or become unbalanced. A life, that of men, which can be overwhelmed by the tormented states of the psyche and all those situations that can appear with no way out, crushed by the burden of binding forces, of chains of dependency, by the chains that bind man to his basest expressions: cowardice, pettiness, ignorance, vulgarity. Yet, referring to the biblical myth of Lucifer, the fallen angel, Tolkien, in my opinion, reminds us that the origin of these impulses is not evil in itself, but becomes so in the use made of them. If controlled, the force of these drives can be positive, a source of energy for more edifying developments.