Alatar and Pallando

What? Two blog posts in one day?! Oh. Wait. I guess technically that was yesterday, although according to my sleep schedule, it was the same day. Well then. Anyway, I thought I’d at least call attention to it in case this post eclipsed it. Yes, it would appear I’m posting more regularly now, like I used to do. No more waiting two or three weeks for a new blog post.

Begin new entry.


When The Lord of the Rings trilogy came out in theaters several years ago, I went in fresh. I hadn’t read the books, and didn’t know anything about the events that were about to unfold to me. And it was great. I was blown away by the scope of the story, the depth of the characters, and the authenticity of the rich world J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson had presented to me.

From the point of view of someone who knew only the information given to them on-screen, not the much more detailed books, I attest that those movies were pretty solid. They told me everything I needed to know, and the questions they raised were not a result of shortcomings of the narrative but spark-the-imagination questions.

Except… well, from the very beginning, there was something that bugged the crap out of me. And it has bugged the crap out of me ever since.

What the hell happened to the other wizards, the so-called Istari? Early in the first film, Saruman is described as the most powerful, the head of the Order. Well, you need to have more than two people to have an Order. From the very beginning, I was expecting the trilogy to culminate with the alliance of the other wizards—or at least an explanation as to who they were, and what they were doing instead of fulfilling their ONLY PURPOSE FOR LIVING, WHICH WAS TO OVERTHROW SAURON.

Nope. Just one infuriating gap in the story. They planted the seeds of expectation and forgot to water them. Thanks, Tolkien. Nice Order of the Wizards ya got there. It’s like if Obi-Wan lamented that they had lost their last hope, and Yoda said, “No… there is another,” and then never spoke of it again.

Eventually, I did read the books. To my surprise and dismay, the books did nothing to answer my questions, either. What the heck is that all about?! So then I read (or skimmed) the entire book of The Silmarillion, which didn’t satisfy that loose end, either.

My copy of The Silmarillion is back at my parents’ house, so I couldn’t cite it even if I wanted to. So I’ll use Wikipedia links. But seriously, that book is a mind-numbing onslaught of proper nouns. Not a difficult read, but a dense one that demands cross-referencing.

Radagast the Brown was explained somewhat in The Lord of the Rings, though his influences on events were relegated to happenstance much like how Dobby the House Elf was conveniently written out of the fourth Harry Potter movie.

Um… okay, I know you have to trim some material to fit it the oversize story into an epic film, but… the question stands: Where the hell did the wizards go? Man, they all sucked at their jobs… except Gandalf, apparently. Radagast helped out a few times—inadvertently, though happy coincidence—towards the beginning of the trilogy, but eventually was phased out when he became too obsessed with plants and animals. Okay, so he’s effectively a useless douche of a wizard, more appropriate for a Force Ascetic in Star Wars, abstaining from relevant conflict because “all life, not just sentients, are encompassed by the Force.” Fine, you uber-vegan weirdo. ‘Cause of you, Emperor Palpatine’s power went unchecked for over two decades. I would think you would notice a “great disturbance in the Force” that went on for a whole generation, but you were off collecting mushrooms like John Cage on sabbatical. Dick.

I digress… man, I do that a lot…

So it turns out there were only five wizards, Istari, forces of nature sent in human form to challenge, rally against, or otherwise undermine the Dark Lord Sauron. The other two weren’t even mentioned.

The source of Gandalf’s power in the films is left up to inference, and that’s fine. I was dying of curiosity when the movies came out, but they didn’t need to give us a compendium of magical powers. It’s not the Force—and I don’t need a complete chart of rules and limitations to enjoy the movies. A more thorough explanation of their origins would have been helpful to understanding, but not necessary.

But what about the other wizards?!

Then I read this at the bottom of the Blue Wizards entry:

”I think that they went as emissaries to distant regions, east and south, .... Missionaries to enemy occupied lands as it were. What success they had I do not know; but I fear that they failed, as Saruman did, though doubtless in different ways; and I suspect they were founders or beginners of secret cults and "magic" traditions that outlasted the fall of Sauron.”

And this followup:

However, some of this changes in a text written in the last year or two of Tolkien's life (published in The Peoples of Middle-earth) of 1968. They are said to have arrived not in the Third Age, but in the Second, around the year 1600, the time of the Forging of the One Ring. Their mission was to travel to the east and weaken the forces of Sauron. And it is here said that the Wizards far from failed; rather, they had a pivotal role in the victories of the West at the end of both the Second and the Third Ages. At the same time, Tolkien considered the possibility that Glorfindel arrived back in Middle-earth along with the Blue Wizards. On this later, more positive interpretation, the Blue Wizards may have been as successful as Gandalf, just located in a different theatre beyond the borders of the map in The Lord of the Rings.


Now, that… is fascinating.

I would pay to see their tale spun into a movie or three. Alas, with Tolkien no longer with us, it would be a bastardized extrapolation of his notes, and therefore little more than a fan fiction. So little is known of the farthest reaches of Middle-Earth.

I would also love to see the more interesting (and less vague) parts of The Silmarillion extrapolated into films as well, particularly the War of Wrath, the end of the First Age, detailing Melkor’s fall (or Marklar or whatever his name is). Ever since seeing the Balrog in the first movie, I was awestruck at the implication that those things were essentially just pawns in the greater war. Imagine! Makes you feel small, doesn’t it? What epic, earth-shattering battles they must have been, the mighty clashes of the First Age of Middle-Earth…

Same goes for the Second Age. I’m sure you could take some of the events from The Silmarillion and tell a good story with them.

Seriously, when you're first watching The Fellowship of the Ring, and Gandalf labels their foe as "a Balrog of Morgoth," all you have to say is, "What the heck is a Morgoth, and how do we get some more of THAT?"

Of course, you could practically get a doctorate in Tolkien Lore before even approaching such a massive project as a screenplay on such a thing. The facts would be corroborated by an elite research team, the members of which have spent their entire lives immersed in Tolkien’s universe…

Screw that, I’d rather do something easy and straightforward. Like write a remake of Krull.

But I’m interested in knowing more. I hope, after The Hobbit, that they go down this road, because there’s a mint to be made in Middle-Earth films, and as long as they have good stories and keep the material in the proper hands, I’d be a loyal fan.

Uwe Boll should be sodomized with a cyanide pickaxe.