Probably the most startling—and most daring—change which Peter Jackson made to Tolkien's The Return of the King was the appearance of the Army of the Dead at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. The moment at which Aragorn and company leap unexpectedly from the Black Ships and sweep the armies of Mordor before them comes straight from Tolkien, of course. In the book, though, the ships are not crewed by the Dead but by the Dunedain of the North, subjects of Gondor from Lebennin, freed slaves, and Arwen's brothers Elladan and Elrohir. The "why" of Jackson's choice here is pretty straightforward: there's only so much screen time to go around, and bringing the Army of the Dead to Minas Tirith spares a great deal of exposition. But what are the detailed differences between Tolkien's and Jackson's narrative, and what intangibles (besides exposition and plotting) do audiences miss as a result of Jackson's audacious and successful truncation?

The Preparation, á la Jackson

In Jackson's version, the impetus for Aragorn to take the Paths of the Dead is much the same as it is in Tolkien: Minas Tirith is in imminent danger of assault, and much help must be brought in relief. The quickest path to bring help from the coastal regions of Gondor runs through the mountains, and only Aragorn has the requisite knowledge and mettle to brave that path. But Jackson elects to send Elrond as the lone emmisary to prod Aragorn toward that road. Elrond, at Arwen's urging, has had the shards of Narsil reforged into Anduril, the Flame of the West, and he brings the sword to Aragorn at Dunharrow. Gandalf has previously hinted at the dark path which Aragorn will take to Minas Tirith, but it is Elrond, in Jackson's version of the story, who personally presses the Man Who Would Not Be King toward the portal of the road under the Ered Nimrais. In part, Jackson raises Elrond's profile at this stage of the story to demonstrate a change of heart toward Aragorn; and in part, it's also a matter of plot simplification.

The Preparation, á la Tolkien

In the novel, Elrond still sends the same advice to Aragorn, but the message is sent via Elrond's sons Elladan and Elrohir, who have unexpectedly come south with a band of Aragorn's fellow Dunedain. After joining Théoden and Aragorn on the road back to Helm's Deep from Isengard, the party encamps with them and shares the message that Elrond has sent with his sons: "Bid Aragorn remember the words of the seer, and the Paths of the Dead." As is so often the case with Aragorn, the steps that he takes have been foretold long before by prophets and seers. "The crownless again shall be king," to be sure, and it is "need," as the seer Malbeth said in years long past, that drives the "heir" to summon the Dead to the Stone of Erech. For in Tolkien, Aragorn claims his right to the Palantir of Orthanc and sees a fleet of ships in the south massing for an assault on Minas Tirith via Anduin. Aragorn must lead an army to head off the attack, for there is no other help to send—and he knows this before the party even sets out for Dunharrow from Helm's Deep.

And there's one more key element of preparation in Tolkien's version. Arwen, too, has sent a message for Aragorn: "The days now are short. Either our hope cometh, or all hope's end. Therefore I send thee what I have made for thee. Fare well, Elfstone!" Elladan and Elrohir bear her gift: a furled and cloaked banner on a tall staff. Aragorn knows what it is, and knows what it is for—and bids his companions to bear it for him for just a while longer. In Tolkien, Arwen herself is as strong a player in Aragorn's decision as anyone, and her very words remind him who he is, and for what he has spent long years in preparation. Jackson's Aragorn is unsettled by the prospect of the Paths of the Dead. Tolkien's Aragorn has long known how his path has been laid. It is only current events that make the need plain.

The Journey, á la Jackson

In Jackson's abbreviated version of the story, Aragorn and his two companions venture alone into the darkness beyond the Dark Door of the Dimholt, and afoot. Inside the mountain, Aragorn confronts the King of the Dead, and reminds him of the oath sworn to Isildur—the oath which was broken in the darkness of the past, and which may now be made good by going to war against Mordor. The King of the Dead is convinced of Aragorn's right as Isildur's heir by the sword which Aragorn carries, and by the force with which Aragorn wields it. Finally, at this point, Jackson's Aragorn asserts both his rights and person.

From here, we are left to guess what happens to Aragorn and his ghostly army—and how they manage to arrive in timely fashion at Minas Tirith.

The Journey, á la Tolkien

In the novel, Aragorn travels not only with Legolas and Gimli, but with the whole party of Dúnedain and the sons of Elrond—and their horses. Tolkien's Aragorn will lead his party on a hard four-day ride to battle, and slow travel afoot would leave Minas Tirith to a grisly fate. The passage of the Paths is brief (if evocative), and Aragorn's summons of the Dead is made not in the darkness of the mountain, but at night at the Stone of Erech in the Vale of Morthond. There he declares himself as the heir of Isildur—"And with that, he bade Halbarad unfurl the great standard which he had brought; and behold! it was black, and if there was any device upon it, it was hidden in the darkness. Then there was silence, and not a whisper nor a sigh was heard again all the long night." In Tolkien, it is not Andúril that awes the Dead, but the gift of Arwen.

As the Dead make their way through Lebennin, Aragorn asserts his command over them, and his companions are awed by his authority. They ride for days, pausing to rest but briefly, with Aragorn's endurance and concern for the fate of Minas Tirith driving them all.

The Battle

And in Tolkien, the Dead pay their debt at Pelargir, a port on Anduin where the Black Fleet of fifty-plus ships are massed. The men of Umbar and their allies from Harad are routed, and the Dúnedain take charge of the ships, now crewed by freed slaves and those men from the coastal regions of Gondor who manage to recover from their own fear of Aragorn's ghostly host. Aragorn releases the Dead from service, declaring their oath fulfilled, and they depart, finally at peace in death.

Jackson's film, of course, makes no attempt to explain how Aragorn commandeers the Black Fleet, and it is the Dead who disembark and turn the tide at the Pelennor rather than men of Gondor.

What's Missing

I found the way in which the Dead swarm over the walls of Minas Tirith and Mordor's seige engines unfortunately reminiscent of cartoon termite attacks, accomplishing in mere seconds what would undoubtedly have taken Tolkien's army several hours. Tolkien's "grey company" also becomes a ghastly green in Jackson's version—one which nonetheless manages to satisfyingly and effectively portray what Tolkien's spare description only suggests: wisps of "pale banners" and whispering hosts. To Jackson's credit, he also takes what might be the most objectionable element of Tolkien's story, and brings it to the forefront.

At the same time, it appears that Jackson's collapsed narrative manages to bury the troubling implications of Tolkien's original version. Conservative critics have been oddly silent about ghosts warring on the side of "good"; yet liberal critics have also completely missed another observation: that Mordor's armies are themselves overcome by their own tactics—terror and darkness.

Was Tolkien a realist? To a certain extent, yes. He knew enough of the world, and of war, to know that the tools of "evil" often rebound onto themselves—that as one side ups the ante, the other side sees the bet (to extend the metaphor) and often raises. Escalation is a hallmark of war.

But Tolkien was also enough of an idealist to incorporate this fact into his narrative: that the treachery of Mordor's past (not merely tactical escalation) was its undoing in the present.

Still, there's a principle at work in this episode of Tolkien's novel that warrants closer examination. Is terror a tool which we should employ in the war against terror? Abu Ghraib suggests that for some, that answer is "yes." For many, the answer is "no." Where do we stand, as a nation? Are we satisfied with where we stand? Does the West really offer something better than terror, as we claim, or just more of the same?

Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. For, "Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech. He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer, but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil." Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. "Do not fear what they fear; do not be frightened." ... It is better, if it is God's will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil. (I Peter 3:9-17)

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