Film Review

In considering the involvement of the Eagles, one has to first unearth the origins of Middle Earth and all the stories that have branched from it. There, we learn that LotR is rooted in the fairy-story, a genre of literature Tolkien sought to legitimize for adults in his 1947 essay “On Fairy-Stories” and throughout his career. The fairy-story, he argued, should be “presented as true”, and should exist within a created world that is consistent and rational though different from our own. For the person who chooses to engage, an experience with the fairy-story ought to elicit ordinary, comprehensible emotions in the face of extraordinary events. Only then can the fairy story entertain, teach, and facilitate growth in the person who might encounter it.

The connection between fiction and reality in fairy-stories, so delicately balanced and sought after by storytellers, requires a deep understanding of the human heart. The story might take us over arduous mountainscapes, bring us face to face with orcs, have us fight alongside dwarves in epic battle, but if the characters are one-dimensional, jejune, predictable or wholly unrelatable to our own nitty-gritty earthly experience, the story will be forgotten, the lessons therein unlearned. The person might enter a fantastic world and return to their own entirely unchanged.

Tolkien, fortunately, got it right

LotR hinges on the growth of seemingly incapable characters on a seemingly impossible trek to Mordor. What makes the hobbits unforgettable and beneficial to our own human experience is their willingness to endure great struggle despite their own insufficiency. The streamlined avian transportation would have spoiled key junctures of struggle, self-discovery, relationship-building and perseverance for the hobbits. Hence, the story itself would fall apart, forgotten.

Each complication the hobbits face gives rise to a watershed moment wherein the hobbits can either choose to turn back or continue on. It is precisely because Frodo is stabbed by the Morgul-knife, tempted by Boromir, burdened with the death of Gandalf, caught in Shelob’s web, etc. that his choice (and Sam’s) to continue forward is so staggering and admiral. The Eagles would have robbed Frodo the chance to persevere, to grow. He would have been the same hobbit upon arriving in Mordor as when he had left the Shire. A good hobbit, no doubt, but not a great hobbit.

It’s for us

In both the trilogy and Peter Jackson’s film interpretation, the journey to Mordor, then, is equally as important as the task awaiting the hobbits at Mordor, not only because it provides entertainment, but in the arc of the fairy-story as Tolkien defined it, because it empathizes with the viewer/reader. As Frodo feels ordinary emotions in the face of extraordinary events, we, too, are able to consider our own fears, our own insufficiency, our own need for friendship. We have the chance to grow as well, to re-enter our world more equipped than when we left it.

They might have saved time, and they might’ve avoided some mishaps along the way, but had they flown on the wings of an Eagle to Mordor, who would Frodo and Sam be upon reaching Mordor? Would they have been able to complete their task? But more importantly, who would we be without stories such as these?