(Caedan Aegis POV)
The opening scenes flash by, a whirlwind of history compressed into mere minutes. As the last echoes of battle fade, the narrator's voice washes over us once more:
"The Ring came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains."
Gollum moves with an unsettling, spider-like grace, all gangly limbs and bulbous eyes. There's something both pitiful and terrifying about him. I've seen my fair share of monsters in films, but this...
"And there, it consumed him. The Ring brought to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind."
I can't help but shudder. Five hundred years... that's a long time even for an elf like me, and I'm pushing 180. The thought of spending centuries alone in the dark, corrupted by that ring, is chilling.
"And in the gloom of Gollum's cave, it waited."
The narration continues, painting a picture of creeping darkness and growing fear. I find myself holding my breath, completely engrossed. When the ring abandons Gollum, I feel an unexpected pang of sympathy for the creature.
"But something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire."
As the character Bilbo appears on screen, I observe with interest. The actor is clearly a half-human, half-dwarf, but in the context of the film, he's called a "hobbit." It's an intriguing choice, creating this new race for the story.
"For the time will soon come when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all..."
The narrator's words linger in the air as the opening scenes draw to a close. I settle back in my seat, my mind reeling. By the gods, what an opening!
In just a few minutes, this film has managed to create an entire world, rich with history and fraught with danger.
I'm completely invested in this story, despite knowing it's all fiction. The scene shifts to a place called the Shire, where these so-called "hobbits" live. It's a pastoral setting that feels both unfamiliar and fantastical.
As a carriage rumbles into view, carrying the character Gandalf, I find myself leaning forward again. I watch intently as Gandalf begins his conversation with another character, Frodo.
"The film is very interesting so far," the critic next to me whispers. "The opening alone, I can tell it's filmed with effort."
I nod, not taking my eyes off the screen. "Indeed," I murmur back, "but whether the film will continue to stay good throughout is the question."
"Indeed," he echoes.
As the scene unfolds, I push my critical thoughts aside. There will be time for analysis later. For now, I want to lose myself in this invented world, to experience it as purely as possible.
The scene flickered and shifted, bringing us to Bilbo's party. The fireworks display was truly mesmerizing, especially the dragon effect. It was so convincing that even the characters called "hobbits" believed it to be a real, attacking dragon.
Though as I watched, a question nagged at me: how was Bilbo using the One Ring? From what we've seen, it's an incredibly powerful artifact, capable of granting unnaturally long life. Yet the opening scenes showed how it had poisoned Gollum's mind over time.
Curiously, Bilbo didn't seem as affected. Could these "hobbits" be somehow immune to the ring's corrupting influence?
But then came the scene where Bilbo had to part with the ring. His reluctance was palpable, and any notion of immunity I had was quickly dispelled. Bilbo's eyes grew wild with a manic gleam as he hissed, "It's mine, my own, my precious," in a voice eerily reminiscent of Gollum's.
The audience around me chuckled softly at this display. I overheard snippets of conversation:
"I don't know why, but Bilbo looks pretty funny trying to imitate Gollum," one viewer commented.
Another replied, "Yeah, but maybe it's just natural for anyone who bears the One Ring?"
"Could be," a third voice chimed in. "Probably one of the side effects."
I shook my head slightly, refocusing on the film. The story progressed to Frodo learning about the One Ring from Gandalf. It was clear that even Gandalf, wise and powerful as he appeared, was tempted by the ring's allure.
This scene truly drove home the ring's power for me. If it could tempt someone who seemed as wise and formidable as Gandalf, its influence must be truly formidable indeed.
Time seemed to slip away as I found myself completely absorbed in the film. From Frodo's flight from the Shire with his companions to the chilling scene of the Nazgūl's brutal attack on the hobbits, I was utterly captivated.
Around me, I could hear the audience's reactions. An elven woman nearby whispered, her voice tinged with sympathy, "Oh, those poor hobbits."
Her companion nodded, adding thoughtfully, "They seem like simple, kind-hearted creatures. It makes their suffering all the more difficult to watch."
I found myself silently agreeing. The film had skillfully portrayed the hobbits as a good-natured race, setting them apart from the other peoples of Middle-earth. Unlike the proud elves, the sturdy dwarves, demons or the ambitious humans, the hobbits were presented as humble, peace-loving beings.
***
(Dianne James POV)
I'll admit, I came into this screening with reservations. Yes, Hellfire Studios had impressed me thoroughly with "The Demonfather," but that didn't mean I'd automatically love anything they produced.
In fact, I'd believed "The Demonfather" to be a one-off masterpiece, nearly impossible to replicate - not just for Hellfire Studios, but for any filmmaker.
Yet here I am, watching "Lord of the Rings," and it seems the ex-prince is determined to prove me and the others wrong. This film has me just as engrossed as "The Demonfather" did, perhaps even more so. I never thought I'd find myself more invested in a film so soon after "The Demonfather," but here we are.
As the minutes tick by, I remain on the edge of my seat, completely absorbed. While the final verdict is still out, I can't deny how impressed I am already. It's as if Arthur Morningstar is throwing down the gauntlet, challenging not just other filmmakers, but his own past achievements.
The scene shifted, and suddenly there he was - Aragorn, played by none other than the ex-prince himself. I couldn't help but smile a little. Arthur Morningstar taking on a major role in his own film? It felt almost like déjà vu after "The Demonfather."
But this time, something was different. The usual whispers of skepticism I'd come to expect when a director cast themselves in their own film were noticeably absent. It seemed I wasn't the only one who remembered Arthur's impressive turn in "The Demonfather." The doubts that might have plagued us before - worries about the film's quality or fears that it would become a vanity project - they just... weren't there.
And Arthur didn't disappoint. His portrayal of Aragorn was compelling from the start. There was a quiet strength in the way he pulled Frodo from his nightmare, a sense of barely contained power as he later protected the hobbit. I found myself nodding in approval.
The ex-prince had grown as an actor, that much was clear.
The film continued to impress. The wizard duel between Gandalf and Saruman was nothing short of epic, magic crackling across the screen in a display that left me breathless. Then came Frodo's injury and his arrival in Rivendell, each scene building the tension masterfully.
The Council of Elrond was a particular highlight. The way the film portrayed the bickering between the races felt genuine, the tensions palpable. When Frodo stepped forward to take on the burden of the ring, I could feel the weight of his decision.
But it was Frodo's reunion with Bilbo that truly caught me off guard. The transformation in Bilbo was startling - he'd aged visibly since giving up the ring. It was a touching moment, tinged with sadness... until it wasn't. When Bilbo's face suddenly contorted, reaching for the ring with a hunger that was terrifying in its intensity, I nearly leapt out of my seat.
Around me, I could hear gasps and muffled cries of shock. It was a masterful bit of filmmaking, catching us all off guard just when we'd let our defenses down.