March 5, 2003

The Question of Faramir and Moral Authority
Alan Rustici

I was tempted to name this piece “Why Peter Jackson is like the dark lord Sauron” but in the end decided that was a bit harsh. Nonetheless, the answer to that question is simply this: Jackson, (or perhaps more accurately screenwriters Phillipa Boyens and Fran Walsh) like Sauron, is ultimately unable to imagine an individual in possession of both great power and good character. In the book, this weakness was exploited by the fellowship. Sauron, assuming that the ring would be used against him, turns his attention away from Mordor and towards the movements of Aragorn, who he believes, wrongly, to possess both the ring and the intent to use it. This leaves the fences of Morder less heavily guarded, allowing Frodo and Sam to enter the black land and reach Mount Doom. Sauron, with far greater armies and resources, ultimately lost the war through a lack of imagination, never believing that someone in possession of great power would behave any differently than himself.

Ironically, a similar lack of imagination causes Peter Jackson’s film version to fail as well. (Side note: I do realize that these films are not commercial failures, and are in fact masterpieces of filmmaking. They are not, however, the films they could have been, and that failure to realize their potential is what I am referring to here.) The adage: “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely” has become an unquestioned truism of modern thinking. I do not believe Professor Tolkien would have subscribed to this notion, however. Many of his characters are both powerful and virtuous, and these very characters lend the story much of its poignancy.

Compare the portrayal of Elrond, Theoden, and Faramir, in the book and in the film. Beginning with Elrond: “ The face of Elrond was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful… Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of his strength. He was the lord of Rivendell and mighty among both Elves and Men. Thus was the leader of the Noldor in Middle Earth described by Tolkien. A great and venerable person, possessed of the wisdom and grace of 6000 years. In the film Elrond is portrayed as alternately surly, pessimistic, and whining. “Men! Men are weak! The race of men is failing… There is no strength left in the world of men.” Or, more disturbing, to Arwen: “ Do you not love your father?” in response to her feelings about Aragorn and mortality. These are the words of a man beset by insecurities, self-doubt, and conflicted emotions. Concepts very familiar to the modern viewer, yet completely out of character for so great a person.

Next we come to King Theoden. “Nay Gandalf!” said the king, “You do not know your own skill in healing… I myself will go to war, to fall in the front of battle, if it must be. Thus shall I sleep better.” Compare this to the film version, in which Theoden is unwilling “to risk open war.” While Tolkien’s Theoden is unequivocally courageous, preferring to fall in battle rather than endure the dark days ahead if the west should fail, the Theoden we see in the film needs to be prompted into action, riding into battle at the last possible moment in a seeming act of desperation. There is also an echo of (film) Elrond’s words about men. “Where was Gondor, when the Westfold was overidden?” asks Theoden in the film. His tone in this scene suggests an underlying contempt for the longstanding ally of Rohan. In the book Theoden respects the duty and ancient oath that binds the people of Rohan and Gondor. “Yet we will speak no longer counsels of prudence. We will come… six thousands at the least will ride behind me. For say to Denethor that in this hour the King of the Mark himself will come down to the land of Gondor, though maybe he will not ride back.” Tolkien created a noble, brave and effective leader in king Theoden, while Jackson portrayed a timid, and, like Elrond, deeply pessimistic figurehead with his film version.

And so we come to Faramir, who states in the book: “I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway. Not were Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using the weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs, Frodo son of Drogo.” This clear statement of character, this “chance to show his quality” on the part of Faramir is a vivid example of the underlying ethic in Tolkien’s work. The film version of Faramir was an equally vivid example of the screenwriter’s lack of courage. When (film) Faramir utters the words: “The ring will go to Gondor” He is clearly experiencing a moral failure that Tolkien’s character would not succumb to.

What these three characters have in common is that in the book they are wise and virtuous individuals who have power over others. They accept that power and use it wisely. The film versions are all powerful individuals who exhibit basic character flaws, and this is where the film ultimately fails. While Peter Jackson’s physical depiction of Middle Earth is stunning, and the film’s plot makes only those concessions necessary for cinematic narrative, the changes made to the story’s powerful characters begin to unravel the very tapestry of Tolkien’s world. Not mentioned here are Bomadil (missing from the film) Galadriel (creepy) or Treebeard (cartoonish) but these are other examples of a reluctance on the part of the film makers to portray powerful characters in a positive light. Of course the notable exception here is Gandalf, although his somewhat manic delivery of the line “is it secret!? Is it safe!?” in the film displays more fallibility than the book would allow the character.

The worldview expressed by Tolkien is not a modern one. It is not liberal, egalitarian, or democratic. Neither is it ambiguous. Perhaps the one follows from the other. In Middle Earth, there are forces of good and forces of evil, and it is not difficult to tell them apart. This confers a moral authority upon the leaders of the West (Elrond, Theoden, Faramir, et al.) that is not present in the real world. The political leaders of the modern world achieve their power not through birth or divine right, but through the collective will of those they govern. While the modern system is designed to confer moral authority to its leaders as a willing gift from the governed, it also incubates in the governed an abiding skepticism a the very leaders they have chosen from among their ranks. This deep seated suspicion of the powerful, so much a part of the modern worldview, is where the screenwriters really parted company with Tolkien’s vision.

The willing suspension of disbelief that takes place while reading Tolkien’s 1200 page epic romance includes the notion that our leaders are subject to the same emotional and moral failures as the rest of us. I would have gladly suspended that same disbelief for a 10 hour film culminating with this scene:

…Aragorn knelt, and Gandalf set the White Crown upon his head, and said:
“Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!”
But when Aragorn arose all that beheld him gazed in silence, for it semed to them that he was revealed to them now for the first time. Tall as the sea-kings of old, he stood above all that were near; ancient of days he seemed and yet in the flower of manhood; and wisdom sat upon his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light was about him. And then Faramir cried:
“Behold the King!”

I hope Peter Jackson gives us the chance.