Peter Jackson and Faramir: How the Movies Missed the Mark on Tolkien’s Most Noble Character

As a family, we’ve been sitting down and watching the Lord of the Rings movies, and the kids have really enjoyed them. My son, being younger, has fidgeted around a bit, but my daughter has watched all the way through.

Last night we finished The Two Towers. As a quick aside, she likes (as I do) both Samwise and R2D2. There are a lot of parallels there, and maybe I’ll cover that down the road. But back on topic…

As we watched The Two Towers last night, I took another look at Faramir and how much Peter Jackson bungled the character — or at least the context of the character as written by the good Professor.

Tolkien is on record as saying that of all the characters, Faramir is the one he identified with most — a personification of his own values. Before I get into this, I’ll state upfront that I enjoyed the movies immensely. Most of the changes made sense within the constraints of film (the Elves at Helm’s Deep being a good example). I’m not a rabid purist, and no, all you fatbeards, Tom Bombadil still sucks and is entirely unnecessary, certainly for the movies.

I’m not that unreasonable. But in the case of Faramir, it looks like even Jackson realized he erred in the theatrical cut and tried to “correct” some of it in the extended edition of The Two Towers.

Peter Jackson missed the whole point of Faramir and the two sons, Boromir and Faramir. It’s easy to say, and I don’t think there will be much disagreement here. For those not in the know, here’s a quick recap, as these three characters all revolve around each other beyond their familial ties.

Denethor (played by John Noble)), the last Steward of Gondor. The Steward of Gondor is just that — not a king, but the caretaker of the throne. Flawed, slightly unhinged, and certainly no better for using the palantír, Denethor has major blind spots concerning his two sons. He can see no fault in his eldest and no use for his second.

Boromir (played by Sean Bean), eldest son of Denethor. Especially well portrayed in the movies by Sean Bean. He tries to claim the Ring from Frodo in The Fellowship of the Ring but dies protecting Merry and Pippin. In the end he realizes his error, but in his own way he shares some of his father’s flaws. I don’t see this as a fault. He is not weak in willpower per se — it’s just that he is no Faramir.

Faramir, younger son of Denethor, well portrayed in the movies by David Wenham. In the books Faramir is likeable, eager to please, focused, well-meaning, and above all just and even-tempered. He is also very much a martial character. But as written by Jackson in the theatrical cut, he totally misses the mark.

To what am I referring, in a roundabout way? In the extended DVD version of The Two Towers, where we meet Faramir, we see how badly Jackson failed to understand this seemingly minor character as Tolkien wrote him.

Faramir is depicted as succumbing to the power of the One Ring and willing to hand it over to his father. The problem is that Faramir was the one character Tolkien wrote who the One Ring had no sway over. Think about that statement for a minute. Of the entire myriad of characters that appear in the books, it is Faramir alone who is immune to it. (Bombadil doesn’t count — he’s so nonsensical he’s in his own category.) In the books even Sam considers the possibilities for the brief time he is a ring-bearer, but not Faramir.

With the extended version of the movies it gets worse, in my opinion. Jackson basically admits two things with Faramir. One, that the movie needed something else, with the shift of some scenes from Two Towers to Return of the King. So some of it was dictated by the needs of the film. Okay, on that level I understand what he did.

Two, he is on record (paraphrasing here) as saying “having someone immune to the power of the Ring lessens its effect.” (Double blink. Double facepalm.)

Well, Peter, maybe you missed the whole point entirely — even with the changes in your version of the story. In fact, if you had taken a step back you would have seen it plain as day.

Rather than have Faramir trying to prove himself in the movies (“a chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to prove his quality”), you should have considered who and what Faramir was. Instead of having Faramir trying to be just like his older brother and win his father’s love, it’s as simple as comparing the three and how Denethor treats his sons.

Consider that the “prized” eldest son fails and is tempted by the Ring, thereby not justifying the faith his father places in him. This makes it an easy contrast when his second son — the one he has no use for (“Do not speak to me of Faramir, I know his uses and they are few”) — is actually, at least in these terms, superior to his brother.

Instead of rushing to make Faramir the kid brother who desperately wants to prove himself to his father, it would have been better to use Faramir directly out of the books. It was such a simple, powerful contrast that I don’t know how he could have missed it. I think he fails to give the moviegoer credit here.

I can’t state it any better. Jackson created a wonderful set of movies and I have no doubt about his zeal. But on this one thing he whiffed — and whiffed badly. He and his wife/writing partner Fran (who took an excessive glee in my opinion) in mangling some key parts of the story missed the point of Faramir entirely.

Perhaps even more so than Frodo,, Faramir has a Galahad quality to him. Faramir was designed to be immune to the Ring, but for a reason that Jackson missed entirely. Faramir succeeding where Boromir failed highlights the differences between the two brothers and the flaws in Denethor’s powers of observation.

Jackson could have used this masterfully but didn’t. Denethor grossly underestimates Faramir, and as a result highlights his own failings all the more — and by contrast, those of Boromir. If there is any doubt, consider this:

Page. 280, The Two Towers, The Window on the West- "But fear no more! I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway. Not were Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using the weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs, Frodo son of Drogo." 

One would think that this is hardly open to interpretation, Peter.

The changes to Faramir greatly alter his character and cheapen him in my honest opinion. In essence, he is dumbed down simply to keep things consistent in the movies. Most moviegoers will never know of this, but for those who have read the books it leaps off the screen as a clear example of missing the mark on a small but important part of The Lord of the Rings. No wonder some have dubbed him “Filmamir.”

For more about Faramir and some details on Jackson’s thoughts on why he changed the character in the movies, check here: http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Faramir or here: http://lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Faramir

What is your take on Faramir in the Lord of the Rings movies? 

THAC0: The Great Divide? What the Hell?

F (ExTSR) is Frank, as in Frank Mentzer, longtime cohort of Gary Gygax, writer of the Red Box (1983) of D&D Basic and one of the few active folks from the advent of TSR and the role-playing age on Dragonsfoot (which is now no longer the case).

There are people who think of THAC0 solely as a 2nd Edition AD&D creation when in fact according to Frank it predates 1st Edition and may even have been in common parlance around the time of the Lake Geneva Campaign. And again for those that don't know the Lake Geneva Campaign was THE grand-daddy of them all in terms of RPGs campaigns; it was the one that Gary DM'ed and well, pretty much wrote AD&D as we know it.

Now on to THAC0 itself: THAC0 stands for "To Hit Armor Class (Zero)."

In 2nd edition AD&D in melee combat, one rolls a d20 and compares it against their THAC0 score. For example if your THAC0 score is a 18 and you roll a 14 you would hit Armor Class 4. In other words, straight up on the die with no modifiers THAC0 represents the roll you need to hit AC 0 on a d20. In a nutshell that's all there is to it. So why is it that people look like this when you bring up the subject of THAC0 in gaming circles?

"Is it THACO or THAC0? I don't see the difference...

Seriously, simple math is that hard folks? The only argument that I can see possibly being made is for a unified mechanical rule of later editions which THAC0 is not. But, then again 1st and 2nd Edition has lots of wonky bits to it anyways. 3rd edition and later did tidy up stuff, but abandoned this one when it wasn't broken. Plus I'm not a fan of a single mechanic simply for its own sake, but can see the utility in some systems.

Maybe its the seemingly "weird" subtractions say for speed factor where lower is better. Sure AD&D (both 1st and 2nd) are not consistent whether high or low rolls are good or bad.

But the next time somebody starts squawking about the "difficulty" of simple math and unified mechanics being superior just point out they can, you know...do math. For the older grognard crowd point out that THAC0 appears in their "Ye Olde Holy Book" aka the 1st edition Dungeon Master's Guide written by Gary Gygax. For those who want to save vs disbelieve its right there on pages 196-214.

Be prepared to save vs. long winded diatribe regarding about how Gary didn't really like it. Dudes... shut the Hell up, it's in the freaking book, your book no less.

And if you are having issues? Here is a great breakdown of how THAC0 works.

The Definition of Badass? One name: Tom Cody

 

Start with a killer tagline:

“A Rock ’n’ Roll Fable. Another time, another place.” Check.

Make your entrance to a moody, neon-drenched soundtrack? Check. (Guitar by none other than guitar god Ry Cooder? Hell yes.)

Kick the crap out of some outclassed punks, slap a knife-wielding chump like you’re Ike Turner, take his blade, hand it back… and do it again? Check.

Out-awesome the Honey Badger? Out-kick Chuck Norris and the internet combined? You better believe it.

That’s Streets of Fire. That’s Tom Cody.

Cooler than cool, tougher than leather, and walking straight into legend.

Suffice it to say: the sheer bad-assery of Tom Cody can barely be contained by Streets of Fire — arguably the greatest movie of the 1980s (and let’s be honest, possibly all time). The beatdowns he dishes out are many, creative, and deeply satisfying. And here’s the thing — he’s an anti-hero you can actually root for. Why? Because unlike the try-hard brooding types, Cody isn’t rebellious just to stick it to “The Man.” He’s not doing it for the ’tude. He’s doing it because someone’s gotta clean up the mess.

He steps off the subway in a trench coat — and unlike the cosplaying try-hards at your local game store, he actually pulls it off — then immediately proceeds to lay waste to the Roadmasters for threatening his sister. (See above for details on the ass-kickery/bad-assery.) The knife-slap scene is cinematic gold, and the ensuing skull-busting with a hat rack? Chef’s kiss. Just to drive the point home, he tosses them through a plate-glass window like yesterday’s trash… then jacks their ride for good measure.

Tom Cody doesn’t walk away from trouble. He walks into it — and leaves a trail of wreckage behind.

The whole crux of the plot? Tom’s got to rescue Ellen Aim — played by a 20-year-old Diane Lane who somehow manages to look both like the girl next door and a rock goddess at the same time — from the clutches of Raven Shaddock and his goons, the Bombers. Raven, by the way, is played by Willem Dafoe in full vinyl-overall menace mode. And if Tom Cody is the baddest man in town, Raven is the unhinged yin to that yang — pale, intense, and the kind of guy who probably hisses when he talks to himself in the mirror. 

Raven, by the way, is played by Willem Dafoe in full vinyl-overalls menace mode. And if Tom Cody is the baddest man in town, Raven is the unhinged yin to that yang — pale, intense, and the kind of guy who probably hisses at his own reflection in the mirror.

Naturally, Ellen is Tom’s old flame. So when his sister writes him a desperate letter begging for help, he shows up like a trench-coated avenger.

Enter Billy Fish — Ellen’s sleazy, whiny promoter/manager/placeholder-boyfriend — played by Rick Moranis in full proto-Weasel mode. Billy, realizing his golden goose just got snatched by a biker gang that makes the Misfits look like the Monkees, coughs up 10 grand to hire Tom. Big mistake? Big win? Both.

Before kicking off the mission, Tom swings by Pete’s garage — and Pete’s got an arsenal that makes Commando look like a yard sale. Tom arms up, Max-style, only cooler — and with actual personality — and rolls out with McCoy (Amy Madigan), a tough-as-nails ex-soldier who drinks hard and punches harder. Together they head off into the neon-noir city in the Roadmasters’ stolen ride, which is still the coolest vehicle this side of the Batmobile.

Destination? Torchie’s — the Bombers’ grimy HQ and dive bar of doom. What follows is pure Cody: infiltration, devastation, and an unreasonable amount of explosions. But first, he pauses for a classic “look through the window” moment as the synthy love theme swells and he gazes at Ellen in captivity like some kind of rock-and-roll knight. Then it’s back to business.

Despite being outnumbered something like 1,000 to 1 (give or take a few leather-clad creeps), Cody wrecks house. McCoy chips in, sure, but let’s not kid ourselves — this is the Tom Cody show. Explosions. Butterfly knife action. More explosions. Ellen gets rescued. The Bombers get humiliated.

But before they ride off into the neon-lit night, Raven steps out of the shadows for some classic villain banter. It’s tense. It’s theatrical. It’s shirtless. Foreshadowing? Absolutely. That’s your Chekhov’s sledgehammer moment right there.

The real showdown? Oh, it’s coming. And it’s gonna be glorious.

The ride back? Oh, just your standard post-rescue hell-ride featuring cop cars, roadblocks, and Tom Cody going full Mad Max on a motorcycle. He doesn’t just dodge the law — he shreds it. One second he’s gunning through the night like a leather-clad ghost, the next he’s lighting up squad cars like it’s the Fourth of July.

Then, just to flex, he stops a moving bus with his bare hands. Because of course he does. Who needs physics when you’re built out of raw narrative dominance? He and Ellen trade words, fire, and unresolved romantic tension — and even though they’re on the same side, it’s clear their ride-or-die status hasn’t quite synced up yet. She’s got rockstar fire, he’s got trench coat rage. It’s messy. It’s great.

"What did I do that was so wrong?" Tom: "Nothing..."

 

Back in Richmond, the aftermath unfolds. Cody gets the girl — the unreal Ellen Aim, and shows her what a real street knight looks like. The ten grand? Just a footnote. He grabs only what’s needed to pay McCoy her cut, because class. And because Tom Cody doesn’t do this for the money. He does it because he can.

And then? Then? It’s time for that long-awaited showdown with Raven. Not a brawl. A reckoning. They meet like modern gladiators under industrial floodlights, and Cody puts him down — hard. Could’ve ended him. Doesn’t. Because Cody’s that guy. He’s the guy who walks the line and still somehow stands taller than the rest.

And as the final act plays out, we get the bittersweet farewell: Cody kisses Ellen goodbye while she sings “Tonight Is What It Means To Be Young” — a volcanic eruption of Jim Steinman bombast that sounds like Meat Loaf got struck by lightning at a prom. It’s Wagnerian Rock at full tilt — so glorious it should come with a health warning. 

As sung by Ellen Aim 

“I've got a dream 'bout a boy in a castle
And he's dancing like a cat on the stairs
He's got the fire of a prince in his eyes
And the thunder of a drum in his ears
I've got a dream 'bout a boy on a star
Lookin' down upon the rim of the world
He's there all alone and dreamin' of someone like me
I'm not an angel, but at least I'm a girl.” 

To quote Kung Fu Panda: “Ahhh!!!!… he’s too awesome!!!!!!!”

So forget brooding capes, magic swords, and regenerating mutants. Tom Cody doesn’t need healing factors or destiny. He needs a trench coat, a pump shotgun, and a reason.

That’s it.

Alignment? Chaotic Good (with strong Chaotic Neutral vibes). Class? Level 15 Fighter. Weapon Specialization? Hat racks. Butterfly knives. Motorcycle-based law defiance. And most of all? Ass-kicking.

Tom Cody. The definition of badass. End of story.