I will be spending the coming weekend watching The Lord of The Rings, returning to theaters for its twenty fifth anniversary to show its extended editions in full. (Luckily, the films are shown on consecutive days rather than in one twelve hour marathon.) As is shown by the fact that I would buy tickets to this - and perhaps by a few Tolkien quotes that have crept their way into prior newsletters - this is not my first rodeo. The Lord of the Rings first came into my life as a child with the release of the first film, and in the years since I have watched theatrical and extended cuts, read through vast chunks of Tolkien’s legendarium (still working on the Silmarillion), and lost hours more to Lord of the Rings video games, board games, Lego sets… truly, whatever has been available.
So why sign away twelve hours plus of my life to this endeavor? It’s not as though I don’t know the films inside out. True, I haven’t seen them on the big screen since they were first in theaters, but I have to admit I didn’t exactly get great tickets, and will likely be spending the twelve hours craning my neck at a variety of fun angles. It’s not like I couldn’t watch these films at home (I will not admit how many different copies of them I have access to), with the luxury of my own snacks and the ability to pause whenever I like.
It’s not really about the theater at all, as much as it’ll be nice to see the experience on a big screen and be enveloped by surround sound. What I am looking forward to most is far less the story happening, and more the experience of sharing it with those around me. None of us, I’ll be willing to bet, will be surprised, but what does that matter? The same moments of awe, pathos, levity, dread and relief I’ve seen dozens of times before will be new when shared with a room full of others. Art - and culture, and life, frankly - are best when they’re shared. Yes, I could sit at home, make my own popcorn, and watch the same films there, but what I’ve been looking forward to is watching them in community with those around me. Plus, you can never quite get the butter right at home.