Mercy in The Lord of the Rings
 
It's probably worth noting at some point during this series of features on Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings movies that I'm not really concerned about being "right" in my analysis. My primary concern is exercising good judgment in trying to get at the heart of Jackson's films. That is, with something as dear to the heart as Tolkien's work is to many of us, it would be awfully easy—and tempting—to sit back and take pot shots at the various difficult choices Jackson, Boyens and crew needed to make in bringing the story to the screen.

But this is neither constructive, merciful nor responsible. And frankly, I think we can find better uses for things on which we spend $800 million than turning them into dart boards. Clearly, there's an audience for this stuff—including me—and it's worthwhile trying to figure out what it is that people are responding to, and why. It's also, I think, worthwhile to try to figure out where we take things once we come out of the theatre.

The reason it's worth bringing this up now is because, as I have pointed out before in reviews of The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers, Tolkien's books and Jackson's films both deal very strongly with the issue of mercy—the need to show mercy, and the implications of having shown mercy. If the Bible is right, mercy will be shown to us to the degree that we are merciful to others.

So hopefully readers on Hollywood Jesus have found that I have been merciful in my treatment of Jackson; they have, at least, been merciful toward me where I have not been "right." And with this, we turn to Gollum—the character in Tolkien's work through whom we learn something of mercy.

The Struggle Within
 
Perhaps the most satisfying part of Jackson's The Two Towers is his portrayal of Gollum. Actor Andy Serkis and Jackson's digital effects team have done unprecedented work in not only bringing an animated character to life, but enabling the character to interact convincingly with live actors. Other movies have, of course, accomplished similar feats, but not with a wholly invented being such as Gollum.

But the most striking thing about Jackson's Gollum is not the technical achievement (though the technical is what makes so much more possible); rather, it's the clarity with which Gollum's internal struggle is presented. Gollum is the quintessential tortured soul, and in him we perhaps find a microcosm of ourselves. These words could well have been written by Gollum: "I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes to do good... I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway... Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. It happens so regularly that it's predictable." (Romans 7:17-19, The Message)

And like us, what gets the better of Gollum is himself: his devious alter ego, always there to tear him down and cast paranoid suspicion on others, never for a moment letting him forget who he has been and what he has done.

The Restraint of Judgment
 
The most significant contribution to Sméagol's deterioration into the pitiful Gollum, of course, is his long failure to resist the temptation of The Ring. Gollum had his character flaws long before Anduin gave up Isildur's Bane into his greedy hand—but The Ring exacerbated those natural flaws, and over the centuries twisted an already weak spirit into a classic multiple personality disorder. And this is where the genius of Jackson's Gollum really comes into play: the visual depiction of Gollum's crippled mentality is possibly more effective than the verbal depiction supplied by Tolkien.

Sméagol, the half of Gollum still capable of some good (or at least some attempt at loyalty), takes the upper hand for a time, thanks to the mercy shown by Frodo. Twice in Jackson's first installment, Gandalf's words instruct Frodo, "Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."

So Frodo follows in Bilbo's steps, and Gollum for a time responds, even thinking that he has successfully banished his alter ego.

The Passing of Judgment
 
Sam, of course, did not have the luxury of hearing Gandalf's advice. He has very different ideas about Gollum, and about Gollum's ability to be true to his word. Of course, one will naturally distrust promises from the same mouth that has once bitten. So Sam sees Gollum's multiple personalities quite clearly, and names them "Slinker" and "Stinker." His application of the epithets earns him a reprimand and criticism from Frodo—and he is genuinely puzzled.

And Sam has his own role to play in Gollum's fate. Gollum is well aware of Sam's barely concealed malice and distrust, and his more twisted side is only too quick to take advantage. It doesn't help that Frodo must become complicit in Faramir's trickery at the forbidden pool in Ithilien.

So the momentary triumph of Gollum's less odious half is over, and the die is cast: he becomes bent on treachery in his lustful pursuit of his Precious.

The Response to Grace
 
Within the scope of the story, is it a foregone conclusion that Gollum will prove unworthy of the grace shown to him? Frodo does not seem to think so. At least, he hopes not. When Sam insists that there's nothing left in Gollum but "lies and deceit," Frodo explains he wants to help Gollum because "I have to believe he could come back."

Frodo means, of course, that he chooses to believe that Gollum is capable of reform—and he must choose this belief because he knows what The Ring is doing to his own mind. And if the damage in Gollum is not reversible, then his own damage isn't either.

So what about us? Outside the scope of the story, in our own very real world, are we worthy of the grace shown to us? When others give us the benefit of the doubt, do we let them down? Do we often expect the best out of those who have let us down, or, like Sam, are we justified in writing them off?

That's not the way the Bible tells us that God works. I, for one, am very grateful that Christ did not wait for us to become perfect before dying for us. That would have been a pretty long wait.

Who Is Redeemable?
 
But back to the movie. What about Jackson? Does Frodo speak for him, or does Sam? Or some combination of the two? Do the lessons learned in the moral dimensions of Middle-earth even have applicability in our own?

Well, unless Jackson introduces some pretty amazing changes in his final installment, we know how the story turns out. Sam's instincts are pretty good, and we find that Frodo's hopes are nothing more than just that. It's probable that, for Jackson, Frodo simply believes what he does because he must—and who would think differently, in his shoes?

As for this world—well, that's another story.

LOTR Coverage Index here

E-mail Greg Wright here