The Legacy of Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings
When J. R. R. Tolkien died in 1973, his son Christopher took on the responsibility of being the protector and curator of his legacy. In a perfect world, Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy would have been the culmination of the younger Tolkien’s lifelong efforts: the ultimate expression of the essence of his father’s work in a medium that would share that meaning with millions. However, although the films are beloved by millions, Christopher Tolkien was never one of the fans, all the way until his passing in 2020. On the contrary, he viewed the works so commonly considered as masterpieces as a commercialization that distorted and demeaned the aesthetic and philosophical meaning of his father’s creation.
To understand why, it is important to recognize that the world Tolkien created is not merely a vessel for storytelling, but carries the essence of his identity. Many people know that Tolkien was an English Professor, but far fewer know that he was an expert not in literature but linguistics. Indeed, the creation of fictional languages was Tolkien’s first passion, and, in many ways, his stories existed for his languages to come to life. Fitting with this, his emphasis is never dominantly placed on the plot as is this case in most modern stories but almost exclusively focused on the world. Ultimately, it is undeniable that the films do miss out on a lot in the characters that had to be cut and the small aspects of the world that could not fit into the pace of a movie. Moreover, the greatest objection Christopher Tolkien seems to have had is the increased focus the films place on action and warfare, and it is true that the films are epics where the books are sagas.
In some ways the critique seems to be that it is feasible to watch the films and enjoy them merely for the spectacle, with no care or respect for the deeper meaning of Tolkien’s world—something that was impossible with the books. While Christopher worked to share his father’s work, his first priority was maintaining its purity, and the films, in expanding the impact of the legacy, have perhaps changed it too.
To say that Christopher was wrong is difficult to justify when his life was more deeply intertwined with the meaning of The Lord of the Rings than anyone except his father. It seems almost certain that Tolkien would have agreed with his son’s disappointed assessment. And yet, selfishly, as someone who likely never would have come to appreciate Tolkien’s beautiful world without the spectacle that were the films, I must be grateful for their existence. It is true that the films are not a perfect adaptation of the books, and this may be because grandiosity is more commercially reliable than Tolkien’s quiet reflectiveness, but I do not believe that the spectacle of the films is antithetical to the essence of the books. Indeed, though the image is not as complete as the books, I believe that the core of Tolkien’s aesthetic and philosophy remain.
Yes, it is unfortunate that some characters are missing and that there was no space for some parts of Tolkien’s world. However, those people who do not just enjoy, but love The Lord of the Rings films do not watch it for the spectacle, but for the essence that Tolkien created and continues to inspire. The Lord of the Rings became a story of epicness and grandeur, but it is still a story about the potential of good in humanity, the power of the smallest among us to make the greatest difference, and the meaning of faith in the face of evil. In a film landscape increasingly dominated by shallow extravagance, The Lord of the Rings stands out as a reminder of what is possible when splendor has a purpose.