Etudes in Attention: A Celeb Celebration

A quarter century ago, my mother took me to the movie theater to watch a film I hadn’t heard of. All I knew, from what she told me, was that it was based on a fantasy book from many years ago. At that time, the scope of my fantasy knowledge was limited. I had a gold standard—one shared by most children my age—and I remember somewhat haughtily, precociously, wondering how this unknown film would compare to the wizarding school with which I was most familiar. 

Reader, I was not ready. 

I mean this in multiple ways. I was only eight at the time, and thus a bit young for the film’s PG-13 rating. I distinctly remember my little sister not going with us. That… was for the best. The film was also unusually long for a movie—an epic, in the fullest sense of the word. And the film was, at times, frightfully intense. As bucolic and pastoral the setting of its first act was, this was tempered later by the brutal fire of industry, the funeral caverns of once grand mines, and the otherworldly shadow of knives in the dark. 

I am of course talking about Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings. 

As these things go, being confronted with a work I was probably not quite ready to watch left a long-lasting impression on young Stefan. We procured a movie tie-in box set of the trilogy, and my mother picked up where the movie left off, reading The Two Towers to my sister and me before bed for Eru Ilúvatar knows how many nights. This would then lead me down the long road of the Wheel of Time and epics in general. But as elegant a writer Tolkien was (and I have the literary collection to back my allegiance), to this day, I still most associate The Lord of the Rings with Peter Jackson’s films. 

I am hardly alone in this regard. I have bonded over these films with countless people throughout the years. From my oldest friend (now an MD), to a number of young music and media scholars (including two of my closest friends from across the pond), to even my Master’s advisor and continued mentor (who has published on the film’s soundscape). The filmic trilogy as a whole is excellent and continues to hold up, even now more than two decades later. 

I’ll confess I was afraid this would not be the case. After starting grad school and ingesting an ungodly amount of film theory, criticism, and, well, excellent films (from Hollywood classics, to foreign arthouse, to experimental essay films), I was afraid Jackson’s trilogy would now fall flat. I actively avoided rewatching the films for somewhere between 5–8 years. But I rewatched them all again in the Fall of 2024. All in one day, that is. And, to my deepest delight, they held up. 

Now, a year and some change later, I (re)watched the full trilogy again. This time the full extended editions. This time over three days. This time once again with my mother. This time, once again, in theaters. 

These films truly deserve the true theatrical experience. I remember talking a few years ago with my friend’s husband about cinema and scale, and how certain films almost demand such a viewing: Lord of the Rings, of course, but also Star Wars and, more recently, Dune. (I’ll also never forgive myself for missing Blade Runner 2049 when it was in theaters…) 

I was caught off guard by how much my body remembered these films this time around. That is, memories that were reawoken by watching the films again in theaters. I remember the eerie feeling I first had when New Line Cinema first appeared on screen. I remember the visceral terror I felt when Frodo and co. first encountered a Ringwraith, hiding from its too-loud quiet in the roots of the Shire. What else scared me: the Ringwraith’s somnial assassination attempt, the birth of the Uruk-hai, the column games of the cave troll—the infernally sublime Balrog. So much of this fear was reinforced by the sounds of the film. Howard Shore’s monumental score contributes to much of this, yes (I’m forever grateful I was able to ask him a question at MaMI back in 2021), but so much of it also is the brilliant sound design and Foley work across the trilogy.

Well, I say this, but the theater where we watched two-thirds of the trilogy this time did not have the best sound system. And yet, this is where embodied memory comes into play. Even though I did not actually physically feel the movie as I recalled it feeling, my body still virtually reacted as though it did. Again, it was the material space of the cinema that enabled, or perhaps activated this psychophysiological recall. (There, putting the music cognition portion of my doctorate to good use.) 

What also struck me, less positively this time, was the length of the extended editions. I thought I had seen them all before, but I somehow had not seen The Return of the King’s extended edition. In leaving the theater each day, my mother commented on how much more she preferred these extended editions, how they added more context and gave further insight into the story. While I don’t disagree with her, I do think they are too long for one sitting. And this is coming from someone who has a better attention span than most when he puts his mind to it. But these felt like etudes in attention. Even the theatrical releases demand your full attention, but the pacing was not quite as good in these, some of the scenes’ effects were less polished than the standard releases, and, well, a theater of people who were losing focus does not help for phantasmagoric immersion (sorry, Teddy). Jackson’s rambling retrospections also did not help (though did explain why The Bridge of Khazad-Dûm has always especially struck me). With that being said and to Jackson’s credit, I think my preference speaks to the virtuosity of Jackson’s original editing. 

To be clear, I am of course thrilled I was able to watch these films in theaters again, even given the less than stellar sound system I suffered, and my preference for the original theatrical editions. I know not everyone has access to watch this limited anniversary release (my friend in Munich says they’re not playing there), but if you have the time and bandwidth, I highly recommend seeing at least one of them in theaters this weekend. My favorite of the three is probably the first film, formative as it was for me—cinematically, musically, narratively, etc. 

Above all, the Lord of the Rings is a story about hope. About how the impossible can become possible. And about challenging the evils of the world, one step at a time. Gandalf’s quote has been on my mind quite a bit these last few months: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.” What will you do in the deep winter of these dark days?

Oh, and for those of you who don't speak Sindarin and were wondering about the (sub)title... Celeb translates to "silver." Happy 25th Anniversary, LOTR.