The One-Ringed
ROSSMAN
This movie shit my own pants for me. And I liked
it.
Following this Lord of the Rings film
trilogy has been one of the most hot-whore-fucking experiences
of my
entire
life. The past 2 years have made me start counting down days
to special moments again. I had forgotten what it's like
to anticipate something so much, just for the sake of experiencing
a major self-fulfilling and personal high. The Rings films
gave that back to me. Though with these movies there
has been no disappointment whatsoever, unlike Christmas mornings
of years gone by, where the joy and electricity
volting through me disappeared the moment all the presents
were opened. These movies stay with me now, and make me want
to watch them all over again. Over and over again.
My God! Peter Jackson is the greatest filmaker
ever born or created by Hollywood! Nobody else would have been
able to make these movies as perfect as he did. Spielberg would
have made them too sappy, and he would have changed Tolkien's
story around so that the swords turned into walkie talkies
and the ring didn't need to be melted in Mt. Doom's belly,
it just needed a hug. Lucas would have turned all the elves
into ewoks, and Sam Raimi would have had waaaay too many unnecessary
zooms on people's eyes and lips. Jackson was the only one who
could have done this properly. Thank God that New Line Cinema
saw
that potential in him (and thank Satan that they didn't see
Meet the Feebles before
they gave the kiwi a couple of hundred million dollars to do
his thing).
Anyway, on to the conclusion. Return
of the King starts off with the
story of the creation of Gollum, the halfling cursed with
an obsession of all things precious. We see just
how fucked up he truly is by the naughty things he did to Deagol
and how he eats fish (i.e. raw and still twitching). Then
we catch
up to everybody just hours after the happenings of The
Two Towers. Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn and Gandalf
ride to the Tower of Orthanc and meet Merry and Pippin, who
are feasting on the food left over from the orcs. Sam (the
greatest
friend
anybody could ever hope for), Frodo and Gollum are on Mordor's
doorstep, and with the bug-eyed one's lead, do their best to
silently sneak into the land of darkness. Then bad shit happens.
Reeeeally big bad shit. I'm talking giant spiders, flying dragon-like
beasts, 10 story tall elephants, and an army of pissed off
ghosts. But, there's one thing that the good guys are never
short of (cliché as it might be): Hope.
Honestly, by the time "The End" appeared
on the screen, I was exhausted. I felt like I had journeyed
with Sam
and Frodo through the fiery hell of Mordor and up the ashen
slopes of Mt. Doom. I was tired from watching Gandalf hold
everybody in the white city together while their king went
all Margot Kidder on his subjects. I was completely
drained after riding into battle with Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas
as
they
and the Army of the Dead plowed through the minions of Sauron.
And, to be honest, I was ready for a nap after Samwise closed
his hobbit door for the last time.
The best word that I can describe Peter Jackson's
Lord of the Rings trilogy with is "epic".
It's so epic that it puts all other epics to shame. Think of
another "epic" movie
(or series of movies) and compare it/them directly to the LotR.
Lawrence of Arabia is a day at the beach. Braveheart (though
still cut-ass rugged) is a quick vacation to the British Isles. The
Last Samurai.... well that was kind of laughable from
the beginning, but you get the idea. The Lord of the
Rings is monumental.
It's a huge, adventerous journey, an extended war, and a loooong
recovery all rolled up into one 9+hour package. The Battle
of Pelennor
Field
beats
the ever living shit out of any battle I've ever seen filmed.
Shaving Ryan's Privates' D-Day invasion is
intense and impressive, but pretty small. We don't get a grand
feel for it. The aformentioned
Braveheart has some incredible (and definitely
more bloody) combat sequences, but again they are dwarfed (pun
intended)
by Pelennor.... Don't even joke by trying to compare Cruise's
Samurai to anything Ringsian.
That's just disrespectful.
So, now what? For the past 6 or so years the
entire internet geekdom and I have been following news about
Jackson's trilogy with a watchful eye on top of a dark tower.
From the time that the project was first announced, to the
beginning of filming,
to
the premiere
of The Fellowship,
all the way to Dec. 17, 2003, when the story came to a close.
No more hobbitses. No more rings of power.
No more cloaked Ring Wraiths doing their bad ass thing. No
more Frodo or Sam. No more hottie Arwen. No more guessing what
they may have changed from the original book. No more counting
down the days till the next chapter in the story.... Damn!
I have a pretty empty life. Hmmmmm, I guess that it's a good
thing that it's all over. Now I can go out on weekends again
and try to
get
chicks drunk instead of trying to figure
out why
the filmmakers
refused to put the "scouring of the Shire" sequence
at the end of the 3rd movie. Drunk chicks are always more entertaining
than bearded
dwarves anyway..
So, what
did I think of The Return of the King? A jizz-inducing
finalé to the greatest adventure story ever told. 5
out of 5 MegaPlayboy Ninja Stars of Destruction (he let me
borrow
them for this review). My, how I will miss those hobbits.
Now, if only Peter Jackson would
get
off his ass and make the original book, The Hobbit,
his next project after Kong.
Then I would die a happy man. A lonely one, maybe, but a happy
one nonetheless.
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The Return of the CHI-CHI
I just wish the Rossman told me this was a 6
hour goddamn movie before we went to see it. Seriously,
I had like a couple of dozen pints at the Sea Wench Pub before
we
headed to the theater and I had to make like 7 or 8 pitstops
throughout the whole thing. I should have just hooked my cock
up to some sort of portable milking machine and be done with
it.
You know, bladder probs, no prob. Just hit the "on" switch
and VRRRRRRRRRRRRR, all done. I
tried the whole Depends thing before.. Let's just say that
they're not built for endurance. Thank god that that trial
run wasn't out in public and was only at the Rossman's house.
I don't know what I drank before hand, but the volume and apparently
the acidity of the piss just burned and then soaked the whole
fuckin' sofa to high hell. I blamed everything on the dog.
When he questioned "What dog?" I just mumbled something under
my breath and ran the fuck away from there.
I'll give this movie a total of 8 pisses
and one big old dump. Just because that's what I
did during it's 17 hour run time. From what I saw of it it
was cool, but bring
an extra bladder and cancel all your plans for the week if
you check it out.
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