Literary Corner: Why the Lord of the Rings Films Are Better Than the Books

Good morning gamers,

Ah, breathe in that beautiful click-bait title and prepare yourself for a new four-part series that Centaur and I will be doing for the next two months on our bi-weekly Thursday posts! It all started when I said casually to Centaur while we were playing against each other at the 2023 TMAT GT, "You know, the Lord of the Rings movies are better than the books." After a few stunned looks of surprise from various people around the room - including Centaur - he said, "Um, no they're not." And I was like, "Yes . . . yes they are." And he was like, "Well . . . prove it."

And so here we are - with me coming to prove something that literally EVERYONE who loves Lord of the Rings is ready to crucify me for saying: the movies are better than the books. Lest you think that the ridicule and critique that I'm about to get from you is the first I've ever received, think again - I have PLENTY of nerdy friends who hold the Lord of the Rings books to be better than the films . . . and ALL of them have said to me that I'm wrong. When I bring up the points below, however, things get awfully quiet . . .

Now I know what a more moderated reader is going to say - "yes, the original movies were great - and YES they're far easier to ingest as a non-Tolkien acolyte than the books - but come on, the books are pretty good and are clearly better than the movies." If you are nodding along with this sentiment, I don't blame you - I reread the books every year and each time I do, I pull out something new and beautiful from them. I love the books - and have been enjoying Andy Serkis as their narrator this year.

But I'm sorry to say it, every time I read the books, I also feel like Tolkien was limited by the form of his work (epic prose) and the medium of the written word (as opposed to the multi-media medium of cinema). When I read through the trilogy, I find myself saying, "That was good." But when I re-watch the extended cuts of the films, I'm always blown away. So I'll be kicking off this series with one of the most anathema things that I will ever write: when it comes down to it, the Lord of the Rings movies are better than the books. I'll limit my reasons to four for succinctness - let's start with . . .

Reason #1: We Walked and We Sang, then We Sat and We Talked

I jokingly told my wife once (who likes the Hobbit book, kind of likes the Fellowship of the Ring book, is okay with the Rankin Bass animated Hobbit film, and doesn't like any of the other Tolkien works - written or cinema) that you could summarize all of the Lord of the Rings with the following sentence: "we walked and we sang, then we sat and we talked." I will readily admit that this is a DRASTIC over-simplification of the series, but it's also very true: from Chapter 1 of Book 1 through Chapter 9 of Book 6, we spend a lot of time talking and singing and not a lot of time doing anything else.

This is intended to be a gentle critique that shows off one of the greatest strengths of epic prose: the story is driven by characters sharing their values and perspectives through verbal communication. As a result, when Frodo and his friends are journeying across the Shire and through the wilder lands of Arnor, they spend a great deal of time talking to their fellow Hobbits (like Farmer Maggot), random Elves (Gildor Inglorion and his kin), very odd characters (like Tom Bombadil and in a way, Old Man Willow), and mysterious sorts (like Strider).

But these conversations take FOREVER - and in the films, some of these discussions were chopped off entirely (more on this in a bit) because they didn't help to drive the story of Frodo and the Ring. For a little perspective, you can watch all of the Fellowship of the Ring extended film in the time it takes to listen to the first four chapters of the Fellowship of the Ring book (Frodo is almost to Buckland by that time). Yes, the discussions in the book are incredibly helpful for understanding the greater world of Middle-Earth, but as relates to Frodo and the Ring, one could argue that a discussion with Gildor Inglorion or singing about a Troll who broke his toe while kicking the rear of another Troll is . . . well, unnecessary.

Photo Credit: Arwen-Undomiel.com

Probably the most egregious case of "sitting and talking" occurs in Rivendell and specifically with the Council of Elrond. Depending on your audiobook narrator, the first two chapters of Book 2 (the second half of the Fellowship of the Ring) will take you 3-3.5 hours to listen to at a normal speed - and ALL of it involves characters sitting around and talking (or singing, that too). From a cosmic perspective, the things you learn in these chapters give you a greater context for what the geopolitical situation is in Middle-Earth during the War of the Ring, but does it matter to the greater story of Frodo and the Ring if we learn that Bombur is too fat to walk on his own? Does it matter if we hear a song that Bilbo writes about an Elf who lived a long time ago (Tolkien would say yes, but I don't)? Can we get by without this knowledge? I think we can - and in the films, the entirety of our time in Rivendell takes less than half an hour . . . and with the possible exception of the discussion of what's going on around Erebor, we aren't really missing anything.

Photo Credit: TedNasmith.com

But I'm going to take this point just a little bit farther - sometimes, for the sake of singing a song or sitting/standing around and talking, at least one VERY unwise plan was hatched. Picture this: the Fellowship has just exited Moria, with the Goblins hot on their heels and their wizard plummeting to the dark abyss of Khazad-Dum. Now if you were one of these guys, you'd probably react the way Aragorn does in the films ("we need to get out of here"). But what do we do in the book? Gimli tells Aragorn that he must - no matter what the cost - look into the "Mirrormere" just outside the East Gate of Moria, which was a pool of water that reflected the starlight. This also happens to be the same pool of water where Balin was shot in the eye by a Goblin archer and killed. . . and Gimli not only insists on going there when their enemy is looking for a way around the chasm of Khazad-Dum, but he insists on taking Frodo - the Ringbearer - with him. Um . . . guys? How exactly was this a good plan?

This isn't an isolated instance - if you go back to the first half of the Fellowship of the Ring, you will find that Frodo, Sam, and Pippin go from sneaking, to singing loudly, to hiding and telling each other to shush, to singing loudly, to hiding again as they journey across the Shire. But I digress - there's a lot of singing and a lot of talking in the books and I'm willing to admit that it has its place for building the world . . . but the movies cut out a lot of it and I think it's fine (and avoided some very troubling choices that couldn't be easily justified on film). This point, I think, you can chalk up to the limitations of epic prose, so let's turn to the medium of writing in general as we look to . . .

Reason #2: Conveying Epic Action Sequences in Epic Prose

The medium of cinema is just more immersive than the written word - it just is. Yes, with the right "theatre of the mind," any reader can paint a picture for themselves of what they're reading that can be truer to the source material and more real to them than whatever a Hollywood movie producer can come up with. But I have to say, there's something very different about the epic scenes that are portrayed in the Lord of the Rings films than in the books - particularly if we look at the Return of the King.

Let me provide just a snapshot picture of what I'm talking about. In Book 5, Chapter 1 (Minas Tirith), we read the following:

There was a silence again for a while. Then, 'What is that?' cried Pippin suddenly, clutching at Gandalf's cloak. 'Look! Fire, red fire! Are there dragons in this land? Look, there is another!'

For answer Gandalf cried aloud to his horse. 'On, Shadowfax! We must hasten. Time is short. See! The beacons of Gondor are alight, calling for aid. War is kindled. See, there is the fire on Amon Din, and flame on Eilenach; and there they go speeding west: Nardol, Erelas, Min-Rimmon, Calenhad, and the Halifirien on the borders of Rohan.'

In the book, the beacons of Gondor are lit before Gandalf and Pippin arrive, while in the films, Gandalf and Pippin light the beacons in defiance of the will of Denethor. While this certainly adds to the drama of the story, there's also an incredibly scene - perhaps a minute or two long - where we are flying over mountain tops, watching as the various beacons of Gondor are lit. All the while, the amazing score by Howard Shore has the deep, resonant sounds of percussion instruments contrasted with a fast-moving violin strain and the entire scene is just amazing. Even if I'm knee-deep in a painting project, I stop to watch this scene - it's just that good.

Photo Credit: Lifestyleofpeace.com
Can you hear the music playing?

I have a pretty good theatre of the mind, but in no universe could I have gotten what was captured on screen from the paragraphs above - and that's not to say that the paragraphs or the creative abilities of my mind are bad . . . it's just that cinema is different and, in some cases, can be better than print and imagination alone. But let's take another example - consider the following passage from Book 5, Chapter 5 (The Ride of the Rohirrim):

At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before:

Arise, arise, Riders of Theoden!

Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!

spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,

a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!

Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

With that he seized a great horn from Guthlaf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains.

Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!

Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them. Eomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first Eored roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Theoden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new tire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Orome the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and the darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City.

Now that's a great passage - it's full of rich imagery and even mentions one of the Valar! It's passages like this that make me want to reread the books every year. But it's also not the same as what you get in the films. Theoden's speech is fuller with his call for death and the world's ending, given with a lot of passion, and we get the emotional response not just from his rousing delivery, but also from the reactions of the host of riders that follow him (including Eowyn and Merry) and (once again) an amazing score by Howard Shore to fuel the emotions we're feeling.

Photo Credit: Inews.co.uk

And then there's the charge - the score is full of the Rohan theme that was developed in the Two Towers and it rises to a crescendo as the riders of Rohan roll over the hosts of Mordor - and while you can write about them slaying people and performing great feats, it's just not the same when you read it as when you see it (can I venture to say, "feel" it?). Okay, one last example - this time, from Book 6, Chapter 3 (Mount Doom):

'Now for it! Now for the last gasp!' said Sam as he struggled to his feet. He bent over Frodo, rousing him gently. Frodo groaned; but with a great effort of will he staggered up; and then he fell upon his knees again. He raised his eyes with difficulty to the dark slopes of Mount Doom towering above him, and then pitifully he began to crawl forward on his hands.

Sam looked at him and wept in his heart, but no tears came to his dry and stinging eyes. 'I said I'd carry him, if it broke my back,' he muttered, 'and I will!'

'Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get! Come on, Mr. Frodo dear! Sam will give you a ride. Just tell him where to go, and he'll go.'

Photo Credit: TheNexus

You gotta love Sam - I know I do. Previously in this chapter, Sam tries to help Frodo not carry as much and he gets snapped at by Ring-controlled Frodo for his troubles. And yet now he's willing to carry him since Frodo can't carry his own weight. But oh . . . oh, how much more moving this scene is in the films. You see Sam holding Frodo, clearly feeling like they've given up all their strength. Sam just wants Frodo to come back to the real-world out of the daze that he's in, so he starts innocently talking about the many nothings that they used to enjoy in the Shire. As Sam hears from Frodo how much he's being tormented by the Ring, his voice fills with anger and determination, and he delivers that great line that brings me to tears every time I hear it: "I can't carry it for you - but I can carry you! Come on!"

As Sam struggles to get under Frodo and rise to his feet, we get the rising tune of Into the West, a triumphant strain that really brings to the forefront what we always knew about Sam: that he's always got more reserves to dip into in order to do what's right. And every time I see that part of the film, I cry . . . and I'm not ashamed to say it. When I get to this part in the book . . . I don't. It's that simple.

Perhaps what's been said so far is easy enough to accept, but now it's time for an absolutely indefensible claim . . .

Reason #3: About Faramir . . . and Tom Bombadil . . .

The greatest critiques I've heard about the films from friends who I respect as hardcore Tolkien fans is the assassination of the character of Faramir and the complete omission of Tom Bombadil. I won't go into great detail on why the movie producers did what they did, since there are sections dedicated to these topics in the behind-the-scenes interviews that are included in the extended editions of the films. Suffice it to say that it all boils down to what they deemed was the most important story arc of the many story arcs in the Lord of the Rings: Frodo and the Ring.

As has already been alluded to in this article, a lot had to be cut in order to turn over 40 hours of audiobook narration into 12 hours of extended films (not to mention the even more constrained 9 hours of theatrical films). Tom Bombadil was an immensely important character in the Middle-Earth legendarium for Tolkien and a clever person could argue that his role in the story is huge - he keeps the forces of evil at bay on a very foundational level in his small pocket of the world. However, his interactions with Frodo are very short - and if you cut out the bit where Frodo needs to be saved from either a sleep-inducing tree or fog-shrouded dead guys, there's a good bit of singing and talking that can be chopped out by just not showing Tom Bombadil at all. So . . . leaving him out makes sense . . . I've just lost half of you reading this article, haven't I?

But both of these characters needed to be changed because of the way they interact with the Ring in the books. Tom asks to see the Ring and pops it on his finger and plays with it, suffering absolutely no ill effect. Tom does not value what the Ring promises, and so it has no power over him. Consider what Gandalf says about him:

'No, I should not put it so,' said Gandalf. 'Say rather that the Ring has no power over him. [Tom] is his own master. But he cannot alter the Ring itself, nor break its power over others. And now he is withdrawn into a little land, within bounds that he has set, though none can see them, waiting perhaps for a change of days, and he will not step beyond them.' 

This kind of resistance to temptation is really great in a book character . . . but also diminishes the power of the Ring, which is central to every other part of the story. The Ring in the book has no sway over Faramir either - he's too clean, even though he should desire the power to defend his people. He says the following when questioning Frodo and Sam:

'Alas for Boromir! It was too sore a trial!' he said. 'How you have increased my sorrow, you two strange wanderers from a far country, bearing the peril of Men! But you are less judges of Men than I of Halflings. We are truth-speakers, we men of Gondor. We boast seldom, and then perform, or die in the attempt. Not if I found it on the highway would I take it I said. Even if I were such a man as to desire this thing, and even though I knew not clearly what this thing was when I spoke, still I should take those words as a vow, and be held by them.

Photo Credit: FaramirForever

Golly, Faramir is such a great guy - and this is all fine and good for a character in a story, but it's just not very believable on film. Instead of starting from a position of not being able to be held by the Ring, he's brought to the point of never taking the Ring in the Two Towers film by seeing what the Ring has done to Frodo, to Smeagol, and even to his brother - and by hearing the rousing speech that Sam gives (which is way better than the speech he delivers in the book - again, because cinema has advantages over the written word alone). The statements Faramir makes above are reworked in the extended edition of the Return of the King, when he tells his father, Denethor, why he let the Hobbits go - and it makes him look like the strong person he is in the books (and more so because we saw him almost fall).

Okay, this article has already been long, but let's look at one more way that the movies are better than the books . . .

Reason #4: Aragorn The Warrior

I think I speak for almost everyone who loves the films that one of the things Peter Jackson and the rest of the production team got right was casting Viggo Mortenson as Aragorn - he embodies everything we want in a noble action hero. I love the Fellowship of the Ring film most of all (very little jumping between storylines happens in that film) and the great combat climax of the film is the fight against the Uruk-Hai at Amon Hen.

Can you picture it? Aragorn has just rejected taking the Ring from Frodo, vowing that he would go with Frodo to the very fires of Mordor if Frodo so required. But, seeing the light of Sting glowing strongly, Aragorn leaps to his feet, draws his sword, and yells for Frodo to run. As he turns the corner, he sees an entire horde of Uruk-Hai, salutes them, and then begins a mad attempt to slay them all. What follows is a very exciting and moving drama, where we see Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli make their way to Boromir (but too late). It's really powerful . . .

Such a good scene - Photo Credit: US!

. . . and it's not in the book. Oh, sure, Boromir is killed by a bunch of Uruk-Hai at Amon Hen, but Aragorn's part in that tale is really different. In the final chapter of the Fellowship of the Ring (The Breaking of the Fellowship), Aragorn races to the Seat of Amon Hen to see if he can spy Frodo - and Sam follows him for a while, until he realizes that Frodo's going to just head back to the boats. At the end of Fellowship, Aragorn is at the King's Seat.

In the first chapter of The Two Towers (The Departure of Boromir), we pick back up Aragorn's story - he tracks Frodo to the King's Seat, and then goes to the top of the Seat to look around him, but can't see anything. Then he hears the horn of Boromir and races down to help him, shouting "Elendil!" all the way (like he does once in the film). When he arrives at Boromir's side, Boromir is all but dead . . . Aragorn kills no one at Amon Hen in the books.

"Surely," you say, "this isn't indicative of Aragorn elsewhere in the books! Tiberius, you're just nit-picking on one instance!" It's true - I am. We are told that "Boromir and Aragorn slew many" in Moria (The Bridge of Khazad-Dum), he slays at least one Warg chieftain before they enter Moria, and of course, he fights off the Nazgul at Weathertop with nothing but flaming brands (since he doesn't have a functional sword in the book). Yes, this would appear to be an isolated instance of Aragorn not doing great things - but it was better in the films.

But sometimes Aragorn comes across as a more inspirational character in the films than in the books. There's another scene in The Two Towers that I love watching in the film - the beleaguered defenders of Helm's Deep are preparing for one final defense of the Hornburg, and as Theoden begins to drift into despair, Aragorn urges him to remember who he is, what he's fighting for, and ride out for a glorious death on the field of battle. It's incredibly rousing to see the defenders sally, the White Rider and Eomer appear, and the Uruks rout and retreat. It's awesome . . .

Photo Credit: LOTR Fandom

. . . and it didn't happen that way in the books. As a matter of fact, Aragorn doesn't have much of a discussion with Theoden in the book at all - he talks to the Uruk-Hai instead, in a display that . . . well, just wouldn't carry over to film very well:

At last Aragorn stood above the great gates, heedless of the darts of the enemy. As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. Then he raised his empty hand, palm outward in token of parley.

The Orcs yelled and jeered. 'Come down! Come down!' they cried. 'If you wish to speak to us, come down! Bring out your king! We are the fighting Uruk-hai. We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not come. Bring out your skulking king!'

'The king stays or comes at his own will,' said Aragorn.

'Then what are you doing here?' they answered. 'Why do you look out? Do you wish to see the greatness of our army? We are the fighting Uruk-hai.'

'I looked out to see the dawn,' said Aragorn.

'What of the dawn?' they jeered. 'We are the Uruk-hai: we do not stop the fight for night or day, for fair weather or for storm. We come to kill, by sun or moon. What of the dawn?'

'None knows what the new day shall bring him,' said Aragorn. 'Get you gone, ere it turn to your evil.'

'Get down or we will shoot you from the wall,' they cried. 'This is no parley. You have nothing to say.'

'I have still this to say,' answered Aragorn. 'No enemy has yet taken the Hornburg. Depart, or not one of you will be spared. Not one will be left alive to take back tidings to the North. You do not know your peril.'

So great a power and royalty was revealed in Aragorn, as he stood there alone above the ruined gates before the host of his enemies, that many of the wild men paused, and looked back over their shoulders to the valley, and some looked up doubtfully at the sky. But the Orcs laughed with loud voices; and a hail of darts and arrows whistled over the wall, as Aragorn leaped down.

Personally, I like the quiet salute from Fellowship over the time-stalling bluff that Aragorn does here - but this is, again, part of epic prose (and within that genre, it makes sense). Aragorn and Theoden DO ride out and slay a bunch of people, but there's no rousing speech to lead them into battle (or to instill strength into Theoden again). Personally, I think what they chose to do in the films is better than what's in the books. But maybe that's just me.

Conclusion - Why I Love the Books So Much

In case you got to the end of this article and thought, "Wow, Tiberius is really down on the books," fear not - Centaur will be sailing in with his article in two weeks to defend the honor of the books that I may have besmirched a little bit.

But do not let this commentary on the books lead you to think that I don't love them - there are certainly parts of the books that take my breath away (and the epigram of this blog comes from my favorite line in all of the books - and is NOT in the films). I love the books - especially because without them (and the depth and richness of the world they presented), the movies wouldn't be as good as they are. Everyone involved with making the Lord of the Rings book trilogy into a film trilogy knew that the world they were seeking to capture on film was a sacred world that needed to be handled well or not at all. I think they delivered well on it - and to do that, they needed something good as the foundation. And they had something good.

Hopefully you're not ready to stone me - I think we can all be honest about the weaknesses in things we love without being overly critical. Like I said above, though, Centaur will be here to tout the glories of the books over the films next time, so have a good read-through of the books (well, your favorite parts of them at any rate) before then, and until that time, happy hobbying!