Your source for Lord of the Rings News, Updates, Poetry, Art, Parody and Satire.
Issue 40, Volume 2, October 29th, 2004.
Editors: Perian, Xara.
Primary Reporter: Ivy.
Chief Correspondent: Prongs.
Contributor(s): Cerridwen, Padfoot, Rudolf.
Find past archives or contribute at http://inili.iwarp.com/
Oh My God, The Peter Jackson!?!
Peter Jackson. We all know the name, we all know the face
(well, all except a friend of mine who has repeatedly mistaken Michael
Moore for the director of LotR). But do we really? For instance, did
you know that Peter Jackson was really a percussionist in the Hornsby
Musical Societies' amateur production of Footloose? I sure didn't,
until I was lucky enough to spot his name in the cheap program we
bought at the door Saturday night. This got me to thinking, Peter and
Jackson are hardly very unique names are they? There must be thousands
of Peter Jacksons out there who are suddenly having to endure endless
jokes and "Oh, like the film director!" every time they introduce
themselves. And so, rather than dedicate this article to PJ the
billionaire who, if my brief perusal of the Women's Weekly was anything
to go by, has recently earned himself enough money to have hobbit holes
built in his backyard to use as guest rooms, I'm going to dedicate it
to Peter Jackson; the percussionist.
Having never met our Pete, and having not been able to spot him in the orchestra pit, I'm going to have to make a few assumptions here. Let's say Pete is seventeen, tall, lanky, with fair hair and bad acne (God I hope he's not reading this, although, if you are Pete, please correct any mistakes I make!). Pete's a bright kid who will soon be coming to do his dreaded HSC exams, before leaving school forever. Terrifying prospect. Pete's been studying really hard, too hard his parents have told him. "Pete," they said, "You need a hobby." And Pete found one. On a sunny afternoon in May, he packed his triangle, his maracas and his cow bells up into his bag and headed down to Hornsby to audition, and guess what!! He scored the highly coveted role of sole percussionist!
Let's all give Pete a clap, he deserves it, I mean, I know I couldn't be a percussionist, it's not a gift we all have. But percussion isn't the only gift that Peter J possesses. He's also a champion sock wrestler. If ever anyone were to stand in the ring with one sock on, and Pete as their opponent, they would soon find themselves without any sock on at all (for more details of sock wrestling contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org). Pete also enjoys poking people sitting in the row in front of him in class, and collecting battle-axes.
But enough of that, let's move on to Peter Jackson's performance in Footloose. The musical Footloose is of course about some teenagers in a small country town, America, who want to dance. Only problem? 'Tis forbidden by law. Pete's contribution to this stunning musical show was so well-timed, so perfectly in tune and stunningly co-ordinated, that this reporter never even noticed it. You see, that's the beauty of percussion. The most satisfying result for a percussionist would be for the people to walk out of that theatre and go, "Percussion? What percussion?" In this it is much like special effects.
Peter Jackson really is a genius, and let you all remember that. I can only hope, and pray, that the great PJ will stay on with the musical society of Hornsby for their next production. Peter Jackson, you legend, keep up with the tambourines, and good luck with those exams!
An Open Letter To Peter Jackson
I am writing this letter to you with the full intention that you will never read it, unless I happen to bump into you one day ten years from now and for some unfathomable reason am carrying this letter in my pocket, so please forgive any bluntness.
Not being fond of the usual form of open letters, which leave the reader on such a sour note that they forget how much of a fawning sycophant the writer could be, I shall pen this in reverse order.
Why did you do it!?! That question applies in some cases to the casting, such as for Denethor (leader of many of the free peoples of Middle-earth? Er, well, he could certainly have cowed Sauron, Saruman, and the dogs of Farmer Maggot into submission) and Elrond (go back to the future, please, Agent Smith); the battle of Frodo and Sam on the Stairs of Cirith Ungol (if that was inspired during an "I wish I were a hobbit" moment by Billy and Dom's jibes about the dinner residing on your shirt, I will happily transfer two-thirds of the blame); the orcs with facial hair who wreck the little bit of realism they ever had in the RotK battles (they were elves once as your own script proclaims); the ghosts wiping the last of the forces of Mordor out of Minas Tirith (it was a bit harder than that, chum); and so on.
All right! Now that's done, I can be the fawning sycophant!
You are, without a doubt, the most incredibly talented filmmaker I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing the work of. Though I am aware that J.R.R. Tolkien deserves a great portion of the credit, and that the artists, actors (and actresses), and other people who made it all possible do as well, there are any number of praises which come to mind when thinking of what you accomplished. More if I could find my thesaurus. Hold on for one moment, if you would. Don't go away.
Aha! Here it is. Thank you for waiting. The script was splendant, brilliant, witty, artful (hoi, I could have thought of those), pawky, longheaded... !?! ... profound, and a work of divine afflatus. Afflatus? One moment more. Afflatus: inspiration or powerful impulse, as of an artist or poet, etc. Hmm. I like that. There's another reason to thank you, Peter! You unintentionally taught me a great new word. Back to the conventional reasons. The cinematography was exquisite, gorgeous, tall dark and ... hahaha! Och, Thes', my friend, you're a riot. The casting was perspicuous and perfect in its personification of their particular personages. The music was stirring and unforgettable, and while on the subject may I give you extra credit for your expertly executed tintinabulation? (To make a ringing sound, as of a bell or gong.) I think I speak for the majority of Ringers when I say that, in our opinion, you achieved the impossible - or at least the highly improbable. You brought the books to life. In some cases, as those I mentioned, it may have fallen short of the readers' vision, but in so many others ... the awe-inspiring lighting of the beacons; the emergence of the Ents from Fangorn Forest which had the viewer practically leaping from their seats with enthusiasm; the Mt. Doom, Grey Havens, and Anduin scenes which still leave me in tears after each viewing; the joyful menutia of Merry, Pippin, and Gimli (among others), which make the journey so worthwhile... Exceeded all our hopes. Grammercy.
(Someone who thought she would hate the movies, but is now) A Devoted Fan.
P.S. Now, ahem, when are you planning to start work on The Hobbit?
Thank you Peter!
I think we should all say a special thank you to Peter Jackson for his wonderful movie making. I believe very much so that he did a good job. I know there are some people out there who say he did a horrible job. I mean all the time I hear "Why did he make Faramir so mean?" and "There was too much of a love story in it." Well those people can think that all they want. But let me tell you something. Don't judge Peter until you've seen ALL VERSIONS of Lord of the Rings! At first I didn't like how he made it but then after watching the animated version and the black and white one. All you P.J. haters, it could have been worse. A lot worse. I mean, thank Mordor P.J. didn't set it in 1920's America! like in the black and white one. Also in the black and white one the nazgul were hitmen! P.J.'s version could have been worse. So in conclusion I’d like to say: Thank you P.J.! You did a wonderful job! Thank you for not messing it up and making Elrond a Speakeasy owner like in the black and white one! (I was fearing that the whole time, I was worried P.J. was gonna do that..)
It had occurred to me that an ideal article for a Peter
Jackson issue would be a quick review of every movie he's ever made. He
hasn't made so many as to make this difficult. But I then remembered
the disgustingly gory nature reputed to some of the earlier films of
Pyjama Jackson and decided that this task could be left to another.
However there was one other film of PJ's I had seen. Having read a
little into the background of the star director himself, I had heard of
a film starring Kate Winslet about two girls who retreat into a fantasy
world of their own. Intrigued though I was, it was not until Pete
referred to it during perhaps the most powerful scene of Fellowship on
the directors commentary. That was it. I set out to the nearest video
store and hired it.
The movie is now ten years old, and the actual story itself (yes, it's based on real events) fifty years old, but it still managed to captivate, intrigue and chill me through to that place somewhere between your heart and your stomach that gets disturbed by things of such a nature. Set in Christchurch, New Zealand, two girls in the nineteen fifties, do, as the reviews imply, retreat into a fantasy, becoming obsessed with a fictional world and characters they create together. Concerned about their strange behaviour, the parents of the girls try to separate them, and that's where everything really starts to go wrong.
If you like feel-good movies with happy endings, don't watch this movie. If you don't like being deeply unsettled, don't watch this movie. If you don't like hints of homosexuality and obsession, don't watch this movie. Despite these warnings, I did like this movie. I cannot say that I enjoyed it, that would be the wrong word. Let us say I appreciated it; the story, the acting, the directing, the themes. I even, disturbing though this might sound, identified with some of it, and I don't think I'm the only one who did. The intensity of it had me enthralled. The screaming on screen attracted my mother from outside in the garden.
I can recommend this movie to anyone with an appreciation of the darker side of human nature, but before you turn it on, take a moment or two to prepare is my advice. Aside from the story, this movie shows Peter Jackson's versatility and genius as a director, and that he, or more likely his wife Fran Walsh, has a nose for the good stories. Now I've said enough, I'll let you see for yourself.
The Lord of the Rings - The Making of the Movie Trilogy By Brian Sibley
"Peter Jackson is not just a passionate
filmmaker: he is also proud of being a New Zealender..."
This book is a very interesting look inside the making of the Lord of the Rings Movies. It has a lot of information on everything from clothes, to the score, to weapons. Brian Sibley has a way of writing that is so easy to understand, and you just can't wait to turn to the next page.
He writes sometimes in story like form, and always has something interesting to say, and you learn so much more than you knew before by reading it! He has interviews with the cast, and plenty of colourful pictures.
There is also a very interesting foreword by Ian McKellen, in which he says "Brian Sibley's book captures the excitement perfectly."
I agree with Sir McKellen 100%!
This Fortnight: Midnight Flower
Nearly a Week Later
Eowyn looked up as Arwen entered the room, carrying several
flowers in her hand. "And just what are those for?" she asked, willing
to bet the Aragorn had picked them for her. It was still early morning
and the red tint of the sunrise still coloured the light.
"I beg your pardon?" Arwen seemed to be startled out of her thoughts as she looked up.
"The flowers! Or have this afternoon's events stolen all your thoughts?" Eowyn teased a little. She had gotten to know the elvish woman better over the past few days and had been amazed to find out that under her calm, gentle dispostition, Arwen had quite ready wit and a keen sense of humour - she just didn't seem to let it out around that many people. It seemed that the elvish princess could act much unlike a princess if the thought ever crossed her mind.
Arwen blushed, "No, no. Aragorn gave them to me," she smiled at the flowers he picked for her.
Eowyn smiled as she won her bet with herself - Aragorn was very predictable when it came to Arwen, and the fact that she was carrying flowers didn't make it hard to guess who they came from. Eowyn had briefly met Lord Elrond, and judging by his usual look and temperment, Eowyn was somewhat certain that Arwen's father was not the type to go out and pick flowers to give to his daughter. She had also met Arwen's brothers, though they seemed to be preoccupied by something and weren't very open to a conversation. Somehow she felt that flowers were one of the last things the Arwen's brothers would ever give her. "So, are you nervous?" Eowyn shifted subjects.
Arwen looked up, "Nervous? About what?"
Eowyn sighed, shook her head and looked at the elf, "About your marriage today! Are you feeling alright?" she asked. Arwen had never seemed so out of the conversation.
"Oh, no. Why should I be nervous?" Arwen looked at her curiously, ignoring the last question, or forgetting about it.
Eowyn stared at her, "Well, because you're about to become the wife of the king of Gondor. You're going to be the first queen that has been here in quite some time! Everyone will be watching!"
"Well, yes, I know that there are going to be quite a few people, but still..." Arwen didn't see her point.
"Alright. Remember how many people were at Aragorn's coronation?" Eowyn decided to try another tactic. She waited until Arwen nodded slowly. "Right, now take that number and add basically half the kingdom and then some to it, and you'll have the amount of whom all will be watching."
Arwen stared at her. Aragorn had warned her that there would be many in attendance, but she hadn't really taken in what he meant by many. Elvish ceremonies, like the one Eiliandel and Novrion had had were what she was used to - simple, intimate gatherings - not such an amount of people. "Oh," she said quietly, looking somewhat stunned.
"Arwen? I didn't meant to worry you," Eowyn was walking towards her, having taken in the look on her face.
"Hmm? Oh, no, you didn't. Would you mind terribly if I excused myself?" Arwen asked in a rushed voice. Eowyn shook her head and watched as Arwen hurried off. Somehow, she felt that perhaps she should not have told her what she was going to be facing in a few hours.
"How are you?" Elladan looked at Aragorn as they walked
through the palace, Elrohir walking on the other side of Elladan.
Aragorn eyed him suspiciously. "I am serious. How are you doing?" the
elf repeated, with no hint of humour.
"I am fine. A little nervous, but fine," Aragorn answered, well aware that in a few hours, the elf he was talking to now would be his brother-in-law.
"Did you see Arwen this morning?" Elrohir spoke up.
"Yes..." Aragorn was instantly suspicious again. The twins had always been up to something and he couldn't bring himself to believe that they weren't messing with him.
"Oh, good. How was she?" Elrohir asked.
"We haven't been able to find her," Elladan explained.
"No, no. She's fine. We talked a little out the gardens - she really likes it out there, I am amazed - and then we went in and I came here and I have no idea where she is before you even ask," Aragorn knew what was coming and simply made one long explanation of it.
"Oh, well, if she's fine then, we'll leave you to whatever you're doing," Elladan grinned and they left.
Aragorn watched them go, shaking his head. 'They are up to something,' he thought just as Legolas approached.
"What? You're not preparing? Aragorn..." Legolas shot him a look.
"I'm getting around to it," Aragorn muttered.
"No, you're not. Come on, now, I know you don't like dressing for the occasion, but don't you think your wedding deserves maybe a little more than a few minutes thought?" Legolas looked at him.
"Fine," Aragorn grumbled. He truly loved Arwen, he really did, but he certainly didn't like this. "I bet Arwen is saying the same thing," he looked at Legolas.
Legolas shrugged, "I'm sure she is, but the difference is, is she's willing to do this without complaining," he gave him another look. Both men suddenly grinned. This was just their way of relieving the tension they both felt. Still grinning and continuing the dry remarks, they headed off to prepare for the wedding.
Q: For how many months was Xara conducting a scientific
Q: What food, according to Quickbeam, would hobbits not be 'inclined to enjoy'?
Last week's answers:
Gwaihir, What was the name of the Professor in a short play written by Prongsie?