As you’ve probably heard, Amazon has announced that it’s producing a show set in Middle-earth, the world created by J.R.R. Tolkien in his landmark novels The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. With the new series reportedly headed into production in 2019, I thought it was time to revisit the various TV and big screen takes on Tolkien’s work that have appeared—with varying quality and results—over the last forty years.
Today we look at the first feature film adaptation of Tolkien, Ralph Bakshi’s animated The Lord of the Rings, released in November 1978.
In my previous article, I wrote about how Rankin/Bass’s TV movie The Hobbit , which debuted the same year as Star Wars and a year before Bakshi’s film, served as a prophecy for the future of entertainment. These days, Tolkien’s legendarium isn’t just mainstream: it’s the foundational text of mainstream pop culture, from Harry Potter to Game of Thrones to Star Wars —Tony Stark even calls Hawkeye “Legolas” in The Avengers .
It wasn’t always so. In the 1970s, the main places for Middle-earth references in the greater pop culture were Rush and Led Zeppelin songs, and graffiti declaring “Frodo Lives” on subway station walls. Tolkien was a conservative Oxford don, but The Lord of the Rings had found its first popularity in the counterculture.
It’s fitting, then, that the first person to bring Tolkien to the big screen was the counterculture cartoonist Ralph Bakshi, aided by screenwriter and The Last Unicorn author Peter S. Beagle. Most famous for the X-Rated cartoon Fritz the Cat , Bakshi brought a distinct artistic approach to The Lord of the Rings that simultaneously fit its countercultural caché and helped to bring the story out of funky hot-boxed rooms filled with lava lamps and into a more mainstream consciousness.
Bakshi’s film opens with a prologue showing the forging of the Rings of Power, the war of the Last Alliance, the snaring and transformation of Gollum, and Bilbo’s finding of the One Ring. It’s beautifully rendered as black shadows cast against a red canvas, making the history of Middle-earth look like a shadow play cast against the walls of a cave with a flickering fire, or maybe a medieval tapestry come to life. It also introduces the driving artistic technique of the movie: a mix of pure animation, painted backgrounds, and rotoscoping (a technique Bakshi used where live action footage is painted over to match the animation).
We then cut to Bilbo’s 111th birthday party in the Shire, where we are introduced to Frodo, Gandalf, and the hobbits of the Shire, including the Proudfoots … er, “Proudfeet!” (a shot Peter Jackson would put directly into his own version of the story). Bilbo announces he’s leaving, then suddenly vanishes amidst some sparkles and rainbow flashes as he slips on the Ring. (You have to appreciate all the nice little touches Sauron apparently built into the One Ring.)
Gandalf confronts Bilbo back at Bag-End, where they fight over the One Ring. Where Rankin/Bass’s Gandalf came off like a deranged street preacher, Bakshi’s has the vibe of a stoned-out guru, complete with a lot of spooky hand gestures and pointing. Bilbo reluctantly surrenders the Ring and then leaves the Shire. (Which, I should point out, is beautifully painted. Rankin/Bass presented Bag-End all by itself, without showing us the rest of the community, but Bakshi puts it square in the middle of a busy neighborhood of hobbit holes. I wanted to move there immediately.)
Unlike in Jackson’s films, which compress the timeline considerably, Bakshi’s version tells us that seventeen years pass in the Shire. Frodo is the new master of Bag-End, though the One Ring is near enough that he hasn’t aged. This Frodo still looks and acts like a teenager, prone to lashing out and making poor decisions. He doesn’t have the haunted wisdom that Elijah Wood brought to the role, but his childlike nature makes his journey, and his burden, that much more compelling.
Gandalf returns and, with an abundance of hand gestures, reveals the true nature of Frodo’s ring during a walk. They also catch Samwise Gamgee spying from the bushes. Sam is the most exaggerated of the hobbits in appearance, with fat puffy cheeks and a fat nose, and a voice like a bumbling constable in a cozy British murder mystery.
A plan is made: Frodo will move to Buckland for safety, while Gandalf seeks aid from his superior Saruman—or “Aruman,” as everyone mostly calls him (this is presumably Bakshi’s way of making sure audiences didn’t confuse Saruman and Sauron, especially given that they’re both evil sorcerers who live in black towers and command armies of Orcs).
Orthanc is the first Middle-earth location we get that is substantially different from other versions. It’s not a single smooth tower, as in the books and Jackson’s films—it’s a hodgepodge pile, its inside an Escher-like labyrinth chock-full of books, weird statues, and other wizarding bric-a-brac. I loved it. It absolutely looks like the home of an ancient wizard who’s lived there for centuries and has slowly gone mad with a lust for power after getting a little too obsessed with his dissertation topic.
(S)aruman (the ‘S’ isn’t silent, but it is optional) has a leonine look, his tiny face framed by a vast mane of white hair; his fingernails are sharp and pointy. Gandalf begs him for help, but unlike with Christopher Lee’s delightfully arrogant and serpentine Saruman, this (S)aruman is clearly already Full Evil. He rants and raves and then opens his red cloak…and the entire background turns into a trippy rainbow light show and suddenly Gandalf is imprisoned in a Lisa Frank painting on top of Orthanc. It’s weird and magical and very effectively establishes the mind-bending powers of the Istari. Bakshi is a genius at using animation techniques to give us a real sense of the fantastic.
Meanwhile, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin (who, as in the books, have come along because they know about the Ring) are heading towards Buckland when someone approaches on horseback. They hide under a tree root just off the road as a Black Rider approaches. The camera frames the hobbits cowering under the roots while the Rider towers over them. It’s a wonderfully scary framing of the Nazgúl—one so good that Jackson would lift it more or less shot for shot in his movie (whether it’s a rip-off or homage, I’ll leave to you).
Bakshi’s Nazgúl shamble and limp like zombies, giving them a truly creepy feeling. Understandably unsettled, the hobbits decide to skip Buckland—and also the Old Forest, Tom Bombadil’s house, and the Barrow-downs—and head straight to The Prancing Pony in Bree.
The Pony’s common room hosts a rowdy, smoky party, and Bakshi puts his rotoscoping technique to great use here, using it to depict the Men while the hobbits stay traditionally animated. This gives the Men a leering, uncanny, almost sinister aspect, in a way that brilliantly underscores the sense that the little hobbits have wandered far from home, and into the wider world.
One Man who isn’t rotoscoped, at least not yet, is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Sporting a Prince Valiant haircut, a broken sword, a green cloak, a huge belt, no sleeves, really nice legs, and no beard, Bakshi’s Aragorn (voiced by John Hurt) is a harder, grumpier version of the character than Viggo Mortensen’s. He certainly does look and act like a dude who’s spent the better part of eight decades shitting in the woods and fighting wolves.
Aragorn leads the hobbits out of Bree and through the Midgewater Marshes to Weathertop. He briefly tells them the story of Beren and Lúthien, emphasizing that Beren was Lúthien’s love but also her “doom.” Bakshi is clearly setting up an Arwen plotline that was sadly never to be realized. Then the Nazgúl attack and Bakshi’s use of rotoscoping works wonders in this scene: The Nazgúl, in their rotoscoped true wraith forms, advance on the hobbits. The rotoscoping makes them appear truly otherworldly and terrifying—even more so when Frodo slips on the Ring and enters the shadow world.
Gollum is often interpreted as a sort of drug addict in his all-encompassing need for the Ring, but Bakshi’s rotoscoped and background-painted wraith world really does make the Ring seem like a bad trip. It’s hallucinatory and strange, and connected to the real world just enough to be nauseating and that much scarier. And Frodo’s bad trip lingers, thanks to the knife-wound he receives from the Nazgúl. Even at the Ford of Bruinen, he’s still stuck in this rotoscoped nightmare, the Nazgúl leering and taunting him until the flood finally washes them away. The entire sequence is unsettling and unnerving.
Bakshi brilliantly upends our expectations of the hero’s journey in this film. Rather than striking out of a grounded real world into an increasingly strange fantasy world, Frodo journeys from the lush, cartoonish Shire into a shadow world all the more terrifying for its realism. The Shire, Bakshi seems to be saying, is the fantasy. The real world is the one Frodo glimpses through the Ring: the rotoscoped wraith world, the world of the Nazgúl, the Orcs, and war. We live in the world Sauron has made.
Fortunately for Frodo, he makes it to Rivendell where Elrond heals him and he’s reunited with Gandalf, who was rescued from Orthanc by a convenient eagle. Bakshi’s Rivendell looks like a Tibetan monastery built into a cliff, and there’s an implied idea of Elvish wisdom and magic being akin to Buddhism, yoga, and other elements of Eastern culture that the counterculture co-opted in the 70s.
It’s here that we meet Elrond (who is sadly mundane compared to Rankin/Bass’s star-circled vampire-wizard) and the Fellowship is formed. Its members are the hobbits, Gandalf, Aragorn, pretty boy Legolas (who subbed in for Glorfindel in the earlier race to Rivendell), Gimli the Dwarf (who looks less like a Son of Durin and more like a Packers fan with strong opinions on table saws), and Boromir (who, for some reason, is dressed like a Viking).
The Fellowship fails to climb over the Misty Mountains, so Gandalf decides to lead them under, through the Mines of Moria. Bakshi brings the Doors of Durin to beautiful life—though Legolas passively-aggressively tells Gimli he doesn’t know why the Dwarves even bothered to lock up a gross old pit like Moria, anyway. Dwarves may be more resistant to heat than the other Free Peoples, but poor Gimli just got burned.
Gandalf finally figures out the riddle, but before anybody can celebrate, the Watcher in the Water attacks. The Fellowship runs into the Mines, and then the Watcher, rather than pulling the doors down, dramatically slams them shut. The Watcher is, possibly, just sick of listening to the Fellowship arguing by its lake.
Like Orthanc, the Mines of Moria have a delightfully Escher-like look and feel, though it’s not long before the Fellowship is attacked by Orcs. Like the Nazgúl, the Orcs are entirely rotoscoped. They’re black-skinned with fangs and glowing red eyes. It’s a little disappointing that we don’t get a delightfully grotesque creature design, but they are quite scary, and the rotoscoping gives the fight a physical heft that most animated battles usually lack.
Then comes the Balrog, who looks like a lion with bat wings, and moves with the speed and urgency of the William Henry Harrison robot in Disney’s Hall of Presidents. Bakshi comes down squarely on the “Balrogs Have Wings” side of the Most Divisive Question in Tolkien Fandom, and his Balrog even flies…though he still goes tumbling down into the abyss with Gandalf a few minutes later. Perhaps when Gandalf yelled, “Fly, you fools!” he was talking about the Balrogs.
Aragorn is now in charge and urges the Fellowship on to Lothlórien. As in the books, Boromir objects, since the people in Gondor believe that the Golden Wood is perilous. Jackson gives that line to Gimli in his movies, which is fine, I suppose, but the fear the Gondorians and Rohirrim feel towards Lórien and Galadriel is important for understanding why Middle-earth is so vulnerable to Sauron: Men and Elves are estranged, indeed.
We cut directly to the Fellowship’s meeting with Galadriel and her husband Celeborn (mispronounced as “Seleborn”—I guess the ‘S’ sound from Saruman’s name drifted over from Isengard to the Lord of the Golden Wood). Afterwards, Frodo and Aragorn listen to the Elves singing a song about Gandalf. Unlike the mournful version in Jackson’s film, this one is sung by a children’s choir and is a little too hymn-like for my tastes. But it does lead to my favorite line of dialogue in the movie…
Bakshi mostly sticks to Tolkien’s original dialogue, but here he (and presumably Beagle) include a line where Aragorn tells Frodo that the Elves’ name for Gandalf was “Mithrandir.” Then he adds that of all Mithrandir’s many names, “I think he liked Gandalf best.”
Reader, I was delighted! The line is striking not only for being invented, but for being so good I wish Tolkien had included it in the books. It shows Bakshi and Beagle’s bone-deep knowledge and respect for the character and Tolkien’s world. And it’s a perfect encapsulation of Gandalf’s personality and history: he was a powerful wizard respected by the immortal Elves, even Noldorin royalty like Galadriel, but he felt most at home among the humble hobbits.
We cut again, this time to the Mirror of Galadriel scene. Bakshi’s Galadriel is much more down to earth than Cate Blanchett’s. She even delivers the “All shall love me and despair” monologue while twirling around. It doesn’t pack much punch, but then the Fellowship’s quickly out of Lorien, down the river, and past the Argonath, where they make camp.
Aragorn doesn’t know what to do next, and Frodo goes off for an hour to ruminate. Boromir follows him and tries to take the Ring, Frodo runs off, Orcs turn Boromir into a pin cushion and kidnap Merry and Pippin.
Sam goes after Frodo and they paddle off together towards Mordor, while Aragorn decides to let Frodo go and pursue the Orcs to save Merry and Pippin. And then the movie fades to—
Wait, the movie is still going.
Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings (originally subtitled Part 1 ), adapts both The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers , and was intended to be the first of two movies, the second of which would cover the events of The Return of the King . Unfortunately, Bakshi never got to complete his duology, though Rankin/Bass returned to Middle-earth to do the job for him…with mixed results.
Next time, we’ll cover The Two Towers portion of Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings, unless Tor.com fires me and hires Rankin/Bass to do it instead.
Austin Gilkeson formerly served as The Toast ‘s Tolkien Correspondent , and his writing has also appeared at Catapult and Cast of Wonders . He lives outside Chicago with his wife and son.
” The Lord of the Rings had found its first popularity in the counterculture.”
I guess that the late 70’s, when I read it, was its second popularity? By the time this movie came out I had read LoTR for the first time, and possibly a second (I read it yearly for several years, and semi-yearly since), so of course I went to see it in the theater. Roth’s Tyson’s Five, IIRC. All I remember of the movie is that the trees in the Shire looked like painted pipes, and the rotoscoped action in Helm’s Deep which was where the movie ended. I remember thinking it wasn’t very good and tried to squeeze too much into its running time, pretty much to where you had to have read the books to know what was going on.
I have a first edition hardcover of the Silmarillion so I must’ve read LoTR a couple of times before my parents bought it for me for Christmas that year.
For a classic, scathing review of this film, it’s hard to top this version at the Tolkien Sarcasm Page.
Very happy to see a largely favorable discussion of Bakshi’s version. I love it, and grew up with it myself. Even though I keenly feel all the changes-from-the-book just as much as with Jackson’s.
There’s just something about Gandalf. Even though he’s a bit different each time, there’s something about the character (or the casting directors) that no one’s version ever seems to get him wrong. I love all three that I know. Whereas Bakshi’s Boromir is certainly not a great one. Not likable enough. I’m not too crazy about this take on Sam, either.
Are we really that divided on the wing debate? I think most readers understand that Balrogs don’t have—or at least, cannot use—wings. Else Gondolin would have fallen much earlier.
They do say that all rock songs in the 70s were 14 minutes long and about hobbits, but I’m having a hard time thinking of any Tolkien imagery in Rush’s oeuvre. They were more about the other life changing fantasy for teenage boys, you know Ayn Rand, in those days.
Bakshi’s widespread notoriety probably did come from Fritz the Cat, but I’d say that for the target audience for this film, he was best known for Wizards. He tried out a lot of the techniques there that he would put to use in this film. The rotoscoping of course, but the way Saruman moves is very reminiscent of Blackwolf.
But I remember enjoying this a lot. I had the movie poster, so I can’t have been too off put by the changes. Looking at the shot of everybody outside Moria, though, I have to say that Aragorn and Boromir look like they stepped right out of a Saturday morning cartoon, most likely one by Filmation.
I grew up watching this. We had this and the Rankin-Bass Hobbit & Return of the King taped on VHS. There is a LOT to like. Love that first black rider scene. And the watcher in the water. I like that they stick to the book and acknowledge the years passing between Frodo inheriting the ring and Gandalf’s return. Alot of people rip on the Balrog but I still like it.
There is a lot NOT to like though. A lot of the rotoscoped scenes are bad. You can see the budget running out. Same goes for Bakshi’s ‘Wizards’. The actors overreact so much in their movement. Especially Gandalf.
Bad but funny bits: Gandalf getting his robes wrapped around his head not getting cut out. And the actor with ridiculously large fake hands playing Gollum in the silhouette prologue.
@@.-@: Well, “Rivendell” for starters. But also a few scattered lyrical bits and pieces in their 70s days. “The Necromancer” includes imagery of a dark lord “brooding in his tower,” imposing fear upon all he looks upon “from his magic prism eyes,” and ultimately, when defeated, “the wraith of Necromancer / shadows through the sky.”
It’s a bit cheesy (especially the slowed-down voice parts) and yet utterly awesome, even still.
Have to say I have always disliked this movie, even as a kid. Hated the rotoscoping and the overacting. In the theater I remember the scene when Frodo offers the ring to Gandalf, who reacts so ridiculously that Frodo himself looks at Gandalf like he’s gone bananas. The audience howled with laughter. I don’t think that was quite what Bakshi was going for.
I also have mixed feelings about this one, but if nothing else it did have a lot of beautifully painted backdrops, many of which were recycled into cover art for MERP supplements.
I remember really liking this as a kid, but was always confused as to why the video rental store never had the second part, then being dismayed to find out that it was “Return of the King” from Rankin & Bass.
@9: Similar here, I recall being dismayed that the movie left the story unresolved. Unfortunately, the video store didn’t have the R/B ‘sequel’ in stock for the next weekend…
…so I was forced to go to my parents’ bookshelf and start reading the books for the very first time. Whatever merits this movie does or does not possess, I can at least thank Bashki’s adaptation for nudging me in the right direction!
@10, the store I (my parents) went to didn’t even have them next to each other, so for a long time I never realized RotK was the ending movie.
@6: OK, I admit I was wrong. I am kind of weak on pre-2112 Rush.
Just to complicate things, the R/B RotK isn’t by any stretch of the imagination a sequel to the Bakshi LotR — it feels like the third installment of an animated adaptation where the first two installments never actually get made, following on from R/B’s Hobbit. And there’s a whole chunk of the book (everything from the end of the Bakshi movie to the beginning of RotK) that just never got adapted.
It’s kind of too bad that both Bakshi and R/B were never able to do their own full adaptations — it’s interesting to compare the two VERY different visions of the pieces they did complete.
This movie was my first introduction to Tolkien as a kid. I even had the action figures that were released along with the film.
I recall reading somewhere that one reason for its mixed reception was that the studio gave *no* indication pre-release that it was part 1 of a planned pair of films, so some fans felt cheated when it abruptly stopped after the battle of Helms Deep.
“Bilbo announces he’s leaving, then suddenly vanishes amidst some sparkles and rainbow flashes as he slips on the Ring. (You have to appreciate all the nice little touches Sauron apparently built into the One Ring.)”
You may wish to remove that parenthetical last sentence, since it is clearly stated in the book that Gandalf added those touches on his own, much to the dismay of Bilbo. Reading that sentence made me think you had never actually read the book, but were writing solely from seeing the movie(s).
I enjoyed the movie as a youngster, and, like many here, rued the fact that there was no proper continuation.
Ehh. Gandalf merely adds a blinding flash—no sparkles or rainbows. I’d say that’s Bakshi’s filmmaker’s license.
I share the affection for this version; we had a vhs version recorded from TV. It’s always tricky jostling the image you had in your mind when you read the book versus those created by adaptations. Interestingly, I still see this version of Gandalf rather than Sir Ian McKellan’s. However, I never bought Bakshi’s idea that Aragorn should look like five time major-winning golfer Seve Ballesteros:
https://media.gettyimages.com/photos/spanish-golfer-seve-ballesteros-at-the-bob-hope-british-classic-at-picture-id706013905?s=612×612
Hahah. Good one, @17. But because he was voiced by John Hurt, Bakshi’s Aragorn at least sounded great.
Yes, my fondness for this film also allows me to poke fun at it. As a friend recently observed upon seeing it for the first time, “Why is no one wearing pants?”
Now, to be fair, it may just be Aragorn and Boromir who don’t wear proper pants. And a lot of Rohirrim. Everyone else, even Orcs, aren’t that bold.
@5: That also always bothered me. Despite the wonky chronology and fact-adjusting in the prologue, I really like its vibe. But Gollum’s silhouette is horrible, and doesn’t come close to matching his later depiction.
Fun stuff!
For OP: I believe that in the statement “fit its countercultural caché” you meant to use the word cachet, which means “characteristic feature or quality conferring…distinction” (Merriam-Webster)
While I love the live-action LOTR trilogy, there are a few things I think Bakshi did better than Jackson. For one, his Frodo is a much stronger character who isn’t swooning left and right. This is especially evident during the whole Weathertop/Ford of Bruinen sequence. I also think Bakshi handled Boromir’s death better, with no Aragorn rushing in to upstage the fallen warrior of Gondor. He also did a better job with the Mirror of Galadriel scene, which was a bit melodramatic for my tastes in the Jackson film. The rotoscope Nazgúl and Orcs are scarier. Finally, in general, Bakshi’s LOTR just feels a bit darker and weirder than Jackson’s, and I like that.
@20, I don’t think Aragorn upstaged Boromir in the live-action film. The clearing is strewn with Uruk-hai bodies, looking like more than Aragorn killed on the way; Boromir knew he was facing overwhelming odds and made a very good accounting of his sacrifice (failed, since they took the hobbits anyway). Aragorn runs in and kills one guy(sure, the leader, but still). Not to mention that he keeps fighting with two massive arrows in his chest/gut (seriously, those were some fat arrows) and kills several more while barely standing.
This movie was my first introduction to LOTR. (I had tried to read the Hobbit in high school and got bogged down by Bilbo and the dwarves and their never-ending party.) I went to this movie when it first came out with my fiancé with almost no knowledge of plot or anything. Then it ended and I said what?!? What happened next?!? My fiancé, who had read LOTR many times, said I would have to read the books. Aargh. The following Monday I went to the college bookstore (I was a full time student) and bought the boxed set. Then I read it and loved it, and have since reread LOTR many times. But I mostly skip the Hobbit.
https://genedeitchcredits.com/roll-the-credits/40-william-l-snyder/
By some definitions, this 1966 film adaptation could be called the first. The link includes the interestingly told story of its creation (basically: hold onto the movie rights so they can be resold), plus the 12 minute movie itself further down.
I enjoyed the film at the time, though a major distraction was the way the hair on the hobbits feet seemed to writhe about!
@@.-@ – yes Wizards was a great film… I still remember a sequence where a messenger rides past what seems to be a hill, but turns into some sort of spectral dragon, which moves through the rider and vanishes…
Though we did have this film on recorded VHS and also had all the Middle Earth books at part of a classic literature set my family’s real introduction to LOTR was the 1981 BBC radioplay adaption. That was what we listened to over and over on cassette and is still what I tend to compare other adaptions to. https://youtu.be/a4odxfShdZg?t=886
With Ian Holm as Frodo, Bill Nighy as Sam and John Le Mesurier as Bilbo. Ian Holm of course later played Bilbo in Jackson’s films, presumably due to his performance here. Bill Nighy well before he was a household name and credited as William Nighy (it was a shock when I realised it was him in more recent years). And John Le Mesurier famous for his role in the Dads Army series, the same role filled by Bill Nighy in the 2016 movie adaption.
Interestingly Gollum and Boromir were voiced by the same actors as in this Bakshi animation – Peter Woodthorpe and Michael Graham Cox.
It has been far too long since I last listened to this properly but just hearing Michael Hordern as Gandalf or hearing the main theme is always enough to drop me right into it again.
Dun dun dur, dun dun dur. Dun dun dur, dun dun dur. DUR DU DU DU DU DURR.
@@.-@, I always thought Trees was rather Entish.
I loved this movie and watched it over and over again when I was young. There were bad parts, yes, but so many parts were done well. I agree with @20 on Boromir and Galadriel and Frodo, and the initial article hit on iconic moments that I just love like the Wraiths and the Fords, The Jackson movies are wonderful too, but Bakshi did something amazing for me and brought my vision for the books to life in so many ways.
One thing that I do like about Bakshi’s version: Aragorn isn’t a white man! Puts an interesting spin on the ethnic dynamics of Middle-Earth that isn’t at all difficult to support with text. (See the Silmarillion Primer thread for exhaustive, carefully-cited discussions of Tolkien and race.)
@20 agreed. Though this movie had many flaws, there were some things it got better than Peter Jackson’s films. Particularly the Nazgul and orcs felt very creepy and scary. Boromir’s last stand was very effective as well.
@3
Well, Boromir just wasn’t that likable though. Brave, competent, and powerful. But not terribly likeable. He was clearly quite full of himself in the books. I get what PJ was trying to do by going to great lengths to make Boromir likeable, it made his death and sacrifice more impactful for the viewer. But at the same time it undermined a little the point of why he was the first and only member of the Fellowship (sans Frodo at the end, but that’s a different kettle of fish) to succumb to the Ring.
I watched it. Once.
I was horrified at the thought of a generation of children growing up with that to shape their understanding of Tolkien.
The Jackson trilogy had its oddities. But I’d sooner have kids imprinting on those films than on Bakshi’s folly.
@25 you might like this at the Internet Archive then: https://archive.org/details/LordOfTheRings_201706
Roseman’s score fit the books well…mysterious, scary, enduring. Some of Bakshi’s animation is the most memorable of all Tolkien impressions, such as the hiding from the Nazgul, the Mines of Moria, and Boromir’s last stand. Legolas and Samwise suffer in portrayals, but the emotion of Bakshi’s film fits the tale. Peter Jackson made a compelling experience but it often wisps or panders or has gag-horror instead of the Epic Quest that LOTR is. Am glad for both and eager for Amazon’s iteration!
@30 Ooh, ta. I did buy it on CD for my mum a few years ago but did not get myself a copy..
Re: the 60’s, when I was in college every vegetarian brussel-sprout-smoothie place was called “the Hobbit Hole;” there was a folk-band called Thorin and the Oakenshields; and Frodo Lives! was more than graffiti, it was a way of life…
My take on seeing this in the original theater run was “Wizards with less sexy elves but it’s so much better than that abomination of a Hobbit movie by Rankin-Bass.” Imagine my horror when the story was continued by the R-B’s.
I did revisit this film at Midmoot 2 years ago where I was talking about poetry in the Hobbit and contrasted the R-B’s freaky Elrond, who I had seen staggering home from college parties every weekend back in the 70’s to the more sedate Bakshi Elrond, who appeared to be a retired football player…
Lord, I hated the Bakshi version. Had such high hopes too. At the time, it was pretty much agreed that only a cartoon version could even come close the the story. But, damn! that rotoscoping grated. So many things were left out and then the damn thing just…ends in the middle. Ugh.
@@@@@33. @@@@@Dr. Thanatos — “every vegetarian brussel-sprout-smoothie place was called “the Hobbit Hole;””
Are you sure you weren’t living in Houston? There is a Tolkien authorized restaurant in Houston called “The Hobbit Hole”. It’s been there at least 35 years. Huh. Just looked them up. Apparently, they’re called the Hobbit Cafe now. I would have sworn it was “Hole” back in the 80s. They’ve moved locations, but it’s the same restaurant, although the old location had cool booths that gave one a feel of being in a hobbit hole. They’re on Richmond Ave.
@35 It was called the Hobbit Hole back in the day. My parents ate there while in college, my Mom didn’t get it but loved the smoothies. I try to take my Dad there at least once a year for either his birthday or father’s day.
I appreciate the effort put into following the story details from the books, but the art design is largely unimaginative and the whole enterprise is completely undermined by the jarring inclusion of ugly live action footage of Orcs/Balrog/etc. that in no way matches up with the animated characters or backgrounds. Clearly Bakshi’s reach exceeded his budget in this case.