Grima, Son of Alfrid

When it comes to fan speculation about a work of fiction, there are generally two types of ideas that people discuss: fan theories and headcanons. A fan theory of course is an idea about something in the work of fiction that's supported by possible evidence within the story. A headcanon, on the other hand, is an idea with no evidence to support it. It's just something that certain fans choose to believe because they like the idea. I've talked about plenty of fan theories from the Peter Jackson Hobbit films on this blog, but today I want to talk about a headcanon from the series and try to at least clear its path of anything that could contradict it. That headcanon is the idea that the character Alfrid Lickspittle is the father of Grima Wormtongue in the six Middle-earth movies.

To start off, Grima Wormtongue is a character from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings book trilogy who also appears in the film adaptations. Alfrid Lickspittle is an original character created for the film adaptations of The Hobbit, a prelude to The Lord of the Rings. The two characters have a lot in common, being arrogant, sniveling, and manipulative and even having similar physical appearances. They're so similar that some fans used to speculate that they were the same character, with Alfrid changing his identity in between film trilogies to become Grima. This notion has always seemed unlikely since the two stories take place sixty years apart from each other, so the father and son headcanon seemed like a stronger alternative.

The only problem with the father and son idea (and also with the changing identity idea) is that the third Hobbit film's Extended Edition shows a bonus scene where Alfrid dies instead of making his getaway like in the theatrical cut. This doesn't destroy the father and son headcanon, like I used to think it did, but it certainly limits the possibilities.

The key to everything is Grima's age at the time of The Lord of the Rings. The only source I can find that mentions his year of birth is the website "One Wiki to Rule Them All," which claims that he was born in the year TA 2974. Since The Lord of the Rings takes place in the year TA 3019, this would make him forty-five years old and thus too young to be the son of someone who died sixty years prior. However, these dates are meant to reflect the timeline in Tolkien's books, where Alfrid's character doesn't exist. Whether or not "One Wiki to Rule Them All" is a reliable source, this timeline can be ignored because it doesn't truly relate to the movie-verse.

A source that does relate to the movie-verse, as odd as it sounds, is the Lord of the Rings Top Trumps Card Game. Available in three decks, the game features cards for each character as they're depicted in the Peter Jackson films, and those cards also offer a list of basic information on each character. According to Grima's card, he's fifty-nine years old in the movies.

This may seem like a year too short, but it's still possible that he was conceived before Alfrid's death. It would have to have happened shortly before though, and whether or not Grima's mother knew that she was pregnant, she probably would have wanted to distance herself from Alfrid and the town where he lived soon after the conception. Lowering her standards enough to spend the night with Alfrid could easily drive a woman to skip town like that. It's possible then that she traveled south in the following nine months and gave birth to Grima in the kingdom of Rohan, where we see him living as an adult. It could be that Grima hadn't quite reached his sixtieth birthday by the time of The Lord of the Rings, which could very well make him Alfrid's son in the timeline of the movies.

Like "One Wiki to Rule Them All" though, it's debatable how reliable of a source the Top Trumps card game is. And of course, it doesn't prove that Alfrid and Grima are related. It only leaves the possibility of that idea open. This is all that headcanons need though, and since that headcanon does the service of further tying together two trilogies and making the similarities between two characters feel less contrived, I still think it's worth considering.

The Appeal of Tom Bombadil

How you feel about certain elements in a popular series often depends on how you were introduced to the series as a whole. When it comes to a series like the Lord of the Rings trilogy that's been adapted across more than one medium, the fans who were introduced to it through the books tend to be more devoted to Tolkien's universe than the fans who were introduced to it through the movies. I'll admit upfront that I belong to the second group, and I think it's because of this that I've never quite seen the appeal of one of the books' more beloved elements: the character Tom Bombadil.

Appearing in only three chapters of the first Rings book, Tom Bombadil is a mystical, carefree fellow of unknown origins who wears yellow boots and a blue coat and spends his days wandering the Old Forrest while singing. He saves the hobbits a few times on the first leg of their journey, shows no interest at all in the One Ring, and then bows out of the story entirely with only a brief mention afterwards at the Council of Elrond. Like a lot of minor characters from the books, Bombadil gets left out of most adaptations, but he always seems to be the one whose absence people object to.

Why is that? He doesn't contribute all that much to the plot, and even by the books' own admission, he's so disconnected from everything having to do with the Ring that it's pointless to include him in the quest. What's more, having someone that lighthearted and silly pop up so early in the story almost harms the dark tone that it's trying to set. Again though, I'm someone who already saw the story play out fine without him on film before I read the book, so maybe I need to look at merry old Tom from a different angle to see his charm.

For starters, fans of Tom Bombadil probably like him more from a worldbuilding standpoint than from a storytelling one. Having the hobbits cross paths with someone who seems to come from a separate story makes Middle-earth feel like a much bigger place, and keeping Bombadil's origins a mystery opens up all kinds of fan theories about who or what he might actually be. As I've said in past essays, fan theories provide a more interactive way of enjoying a work of fiction, and since Tolkien mapped out so much of Middle-earth's history and mythos in his other writings, it makes sense that a rare enigma like Bombadil would intrigue so many readers.

Another explanation could be that his jolly, quirky demeanor makes him more unique and memorable. In a story full of brooding, angry, and depressed people, it does turn a few heads to see someone who's more upbeat among the cast. There's also something about an ageless, magical figure who's eccentric rather than stoic that people often find interesting. We've seen that type of character everywhere from Merlin the wizard in the King Arthur legend to the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland — even Mew from Pokemon, to be topical — and a lot of character complexity can be found in that contrast of age and youthfulness.

I think that the best explanation for Bombadil's appeal may lie in the story behind his creation. The character was said to be inspired by a doll with boots and a hat that belonged to one of Tolkien's children. After an incident where the doll survived getting stuffed down a lavatory (the Forbidden Pool, if you will), Tolkien was so impressed that he would often make up bedtime stories for his children about the doll's other adventures. The Hobbit also started out as a bedtime story, so when Tolkien came up with an idea for a sequel to the book, he decided to incorporate the doll-inspired Tom Bombadil into that followup.

Given their similar origins, it's only natural that Tom's scenes in The Lord of the Rings would have the same lighthearted tone as The Hobbit instead of the dark and serious tone of the sequel. It's also possible that the character is meant to ease that transition in tone, acting as one last callback to the more innocent times of Bilbo's adventure before the Nazgul come along and ruin everything. If this is the case, then his final mention at the Council of Elrond where the heroes decide not to involve him in the One Ring's destruction can be seen as an official goodbye to that innocence. That does kind of make it sad to see him go.

At the end of the day, I still think that the Lord of the Rings movies were smart to leave out Tom Bombadil. Film is a different medium that requires a tighter narrative than literature, so minor storylines such as his have to go. The fact that some of his lines are said by Treebeard in the Extended Edition of The Two Towers at least shows that Peter Jackson's team appreciated his character and wanted to have some nod to him in their version. I may not have the same attatchment to Bombadil as fans who discovered Middle-earth through the source material, but after looking at him through a wider scope and getting to know him better, I can appreciate him too.

Top 5 Things the Hobbit Films Improved From the Book

November 17th, 2015 marks a milestone in the history of the Peter Jackson Middle-earth film series, in that it's the release date for the Extended Edition of the final Hobbit film, The Battle of the Five Armies. This is the last time that the fanbase gets to celebrate the release of any official version of any of the films, and in honor of that, I wanted to do something special this month.

It goes without saying that J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit is a literary masterpiece, but because film is such a different medium from literature, a lot of changes did have to be made in the process of adapting the book for the big screen. While some of those changes have been controversial, some of them have actually made a lot of sense and strengthened the story in many regards. It can even be argued that the films handled some story elements better than the source material did, and I say that as someone who loves the book enough to collect copies of it.

Since both versions of all three Hobbit films can now be seen in all of their glory, I think it's only fitting to discuss what are, in my opinion, the top five things that they improved from the book.

#5

Consistencies with The Lord of the Rings

I put this one low on the list since 1) Tolkien had the excuse of writing The Hobbit as a stand-alone book with no plans of further developing its universe at the time, and 2) the differences between the two works are because of The Lord of the Rings being different from The Hobbit, not the other way around. Tolkien did make some revisions to The Hobbit after The Lord of the Rings was published, most notably to Bilbo's encounter with Gollum, but the two works remain very different in tone and in their presentations of Middle-earth--which is actually never given as the name of the setting in The Hobbit.

The Hobbit films make a point to show us that transition in tone, starting out lighthearted like the book and then slowly taking on the darker and grittier feel of The Lord of the Rings as they progress. They also remove some of the book's more whimsical elements, such as the talking purse that Bilbo tries to steal from the three trolls, to better match with the more realistic Rings.

In addition to that, the Hobbit films emphasize a lot of prominent elements from Rings that were largely glossed over or absent from the book, such as Sauron and the Rings of Power, the deep-rooted tensions between the elves and dwarves, and the One Ring's influence on Bilbo. It can be debated whether or not The Hobbit needs those elements in it as a stand-alone story, but now that it shares a universe with Tolkien's darker and more fleshed out works, I think it's good to tie the whole series closer together.

#4

Thorin's Plan

 

One of the strongest overall changes in the Hobbit films is Thorin's motivation for wanting to reclaim Erebor from Smaug. In the book, his main reason from the start is to steal back the treasure in the mountain, but in the movies, he starts out wanting to win back his people's homeland and only becomes greedy for the treasure after he reclaims the mountain. Since his goal in planning the quest is different in the adaptation, his strategy is different as well.

Thorin's plan in the book is to hire a burglar, send that burglar into the mountain over and over again to steal back the whole treasure one piece at a time, and then transport all of that treasure to a place that's far away from Smaug. Thorin's plan in the movies is to hire a burglar, send that burglar into the mountain to steal back the Arkenstone, use the Arkenstone to command the loyalty of every army in Middle-earth, and then lead those armies into the mountain to kill Smaug. Comparing these two plans, the one from the movies seems a lot more logical and has a much better chance of working.

To the book's credit, Bilbo does point out how flawed Thorin's idea to steal and relocate all of the treasure is. However, it's difficult for an audience to invest in characters who are that poor at planning ahead, especially when the thing that they're trying to get isn't terribly noble. In terms of the narrative structure, it's also more concise to have Thorin's plan center around the Arkenstone since the King's Jewel becomes so important later in the story.

Granted, his plan doesn't work out in either the book or the films, and since both versions of it do serve the purpose of showing Bilbo's cleverness and capability, it can be argued again that Thorin's plan doesn't matter. Still, I find the story a lot more engaging if Bilbo's company has a feasible strategy going into things.

#3

Bard the Bowman

A key principle of storytelling is that the better you establish a plot element before using it, the more justified its use will be. Considering this, I think it was very smart of the Hobbit films to introduce Bard the Bowman and his Black Arrow sooner than the book did.

Smaug's attack on Lake-town in the book is far from boring, but since it's also Bard's introduction scene, the readers only have the most general reasons for wanting him to kill the dragon. In contrast, letting the readers get to know him over the course of several scenes leading up to that point threatens them with a sense of loss if he fails, and that always raises the stakes. It's all the more beneficial to establish Bard as an important character prior to the attack on Lake-town because Smaug's death is such a crucial plot point in The Hobbit. Having an unknown person resolve one of the main conflicts in a story runs the risk of cheapening that resolution, even if the unknown person receives help from an important character.

I also think that giving Bard extra time for development makes his personality in the films more compelling than his personality in the book. Since we see what he's like and how he interacts with Thorin before Lake-town's destruction, we have a better understanding of where he's coming from when he demands a share of Erebor's treasure. What's more, it's easier to get behind him when we're introduced to him as someone who's witty and charming rather than someone who's just a voice of reason. All in all, I feel that the movies did a lot more with this character and made his purpose in The Hobbit much stronger for it.

#2

Bilbo and Thorin's Relationship

Bilbo's most important relationship in The Hobbit will always be the one he has with Gandalf, but in terms of him actually finding it in himself to grow as a character, his relationship with Thorin plays the biggest role. Thorin underestimates Bilbo while overestimating himself, which challenges and even forces Mr. Baggins to grow more courageous over the course of the story. While this dynamic between the humble hobbit and the proud dwarf king is of course explored in the book, it's shown mostly as a professional relationship that doesn't really become personal until their last few scenes together. In the films though, Bilbo and Thorin's relationship is a personal roller coaster that serves as the story's emotional backbone from beginning to end.

I can't stress enough how much more the movies focus on these two and complicate their relationship, and it all works perfectly. They hit every high and low imaginable, becoming friends a third of the way into the story and then constantly having their friendship tested, damaged, and repaired up until Thorin's death. It should be noted that a lot of the scenes dealing with their relationship were added to the story for the films, but even the scenes that come from the book are given more weight on screen and become more engaging, as well as more heartbreaking in a few cases.

The two biggest reasons for this seem to be that Bilbo in the films is much more affected by Thorin's criticism of him than in the book, making him more sympathetic and strengthening their conflict, and that the films give a lot more attention to Thorin's character arc than the book does. The book mentions Thorin's hardships of the past but doesn't really delve into how much they've affected him, whereas the films do that and more. We can sympathize with him as much as with Bilbo, and the fact that we can still see his nobility and optimism through his arrogance and bitterness makes us want to see him befriend the hobbit all the more. There's just a lot more meat added to the bones of what was in the source material, and at the end of the day, that makes for a heartier meal.

#1

The Dwarves

Maybe it's an obvious choice for #1, but it was apparent from the start that the films had made these characters way more interesting than the book had. Instead of thirteen largely interchangeable dwarves with varying beard and hood colors, the movies gave us thirteen very distinct individuals with unique personalities and appearances--most of which were conceived from scratch by the filmmakers themselves.

What's especially impressive about this feat is that the filmmakers did more with the dwarves than they really needed to. I've said before that Jackson's team could've easily just made each dwarf a one-note stock character and still given the audience more than the book did, but they took the time to develop these characters as much as possible and show more sides to each of them as the story went on. They didn't just want to make these dwarves entertaining, they wanted to make them realistic and relatable, and they were right to do that. These are the characters that drive the narrative, the people that Bilbo spends the most time with on his adventure and decides are worth risking his life for over and over again. He should form bonds with them over the course of the story, and in order for us to believe those bonds, it's important that we believe those characters.

Another reason why I made the film dwarves the #1 improvement from the book is because unlike the other things on this list, this one actually goes full circle to benefit the book. There are entire fanbases now dedicated to characters of Tolkien's who had virtually no fans prior to 2012, and anyone who reads The Hobbit after seeing the films will have an identity for each dwarf. They'll think of a prankster in a floppy hat when they read about Bofur tripping over Bilbo in Beorn's house; they'll think of an easygoing young warrior with knives hidden all over him when they read about Fili trying to spot the boat in the Enchanted River; they'll think of a pointy-haired thief and a fussy mother hen when they read about Nori and Dori bickering over leaving Bilbo at the bottom of their tree during the warg attack.

That's probably the greatest accomplishment of the Peter Jackson Hobbit films: they gave us something memorable that offers us a new experience when reading the book. They gave us a more colorful cast of characters to go on a quest with, which made the story as much about meeting new friends as it is about seeing new places and trying new things. In short, they added an extra dose to an already very exciting adventure.

"The Battle of the Five Armies" Extended Edition - Early Review

I've finally seen it.

After ten months of blogging theories and a few days of trying to find a construction-free route to the one theater in town that was showing it, I've finally seen the Extended Edition of The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies.

I should backtrack a little though to talk about this event as a whole. Just as they did with the Lord of the Rings trilogy in June of 2011, the company Fathom Events recently hosted a one-time-only, three-night screening of the Extended Editions of the Hobbit film trilogy in select theaters across the country. Fans like myself naturally flocked to cinemas to see the Extended Editions of the first two films last week, and both were highly entertaining experiences. However, this week's screening of the never-before-seen third Extended Edition was the star attraction of this event.

This was apparent not only from the much larger turnout in the audience, but also from the much more visual presentation of Peter Jackson's pre-movie introduction. Instead of showing one simple shot of the director talking to the camera like the first two Extended Editions did, the third one's intro featured music and clips from all three movies along with a full-screen graphic at the end. This extra bravado for the third Extended Edition makes sense, seeing how underwhelmed so many people were by the theatrical cut, and I for one was very excited for the movie to start after Mr. Jackson was done giving his thank-you's.

With that said, and with the promise not to give away much, what did I think of the Extended Edition of The Battle of the Five Armies?

To begin, there's only about 20 minutes of bonus footage added, not 30 minutes as was originally planned, and the bulk of it is more battle scenes. There are some scenes added before the battle, including a simple but poignant one that fans have been hoping to see since almost last December, but expect a first half that's very similar to the theatrical cut. There's also a bit more wrap-up after the fighting is over, though most of the minor storylines still don't get the closure that a lot of people probably wanted for them.

On a more praising note, there's actually quite a lot of humor throughout the bonus footage. Some of it is just goofy slapstick and sight gags, but the jokes involving the main characters give this version of the film something that was sorely missing from the other: a sense of fun.

Bilbo may be the heart of this story, but in the movies, the dwarves are the soul of it. They're the key to what made Bilbo and the audience come to enjoy this whole adventure in the first place, and having their presence diminished so much in the theatrical cut of The Battle of the Five Armies sapped nearly all of the enthusiasm out of it and left us with a terribly bleak final act of the Hobbit trilogy. Thankfully, the dwarves get way more screentime during the battle and we get more of their action antics like those in the first two films. Fans of Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur are especially going to walk away happy from this movie.

For anyone concerned about the Extended Edition's R rating, don't worry. I can point the finger for that at exactly two shots, and what happens in them is mostly aimed to draw cheers and laughter from the audience. What that says about our modern-day senses of humor is probably more disturbing than the actual onscreen content.

There's really only one deleted scene that I lamented not making it into the Extended Edition, since it likely would have been a major character development moment and was sort of a centerpiece of the film's original trailer, but ultimately, I do understand why it was cut. There's also a scene added in that I've thoroughly spoken against in a previous blog entry, although the way that it unfolds is just so ludicrous and yet poetically fitting that another part of me couldn't help liking it.

And since it's been almost a year since I wrote my "There's Something About Ori" essay, I might as well mention that the little dwarf scribe photobombs Bilbo twice in one bonus scene. It's not the journal scene that I was hoping to get, but I'll still call it a victory.

In short, the Extended Edition of The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies is worth the wait. I wish we had gotten this version in theaters instead last year, and given its 164-minute run time, it feels more like a theatrical cut anyway. Like I said back in December, hardcore fans are probably going to look back on this movie and all five of its predecessors as films that were preceded by condensed editions rather than followed by Extended Editions.

But in the end, I'm grateful that the filmmakers of the six Middle-earth movies cared enough about their fans to give us two versions of each to choose from. We're a very lucky bunch, if you do believe in luck.

Was Bilbo a Failure?

I was recently thinking about the third Hobbit movie, The Battle of the Five Armies, when I realized what my biggest issue with it is. It's not that it strays from the book or that the elves get more screentime than the dwarves, or even that Alfrid gets any screentime.

It's that the main protagonist, Bilbo Baggins, doesn't clearly accomplish anything by the end of it.

That's not to say that Bilbo doesn't do anything in the movie. He actually does quite a lot. It's just that for as much as he does, none of it really seems to pay off.

His main goal for about the first half of the plot is to save his thirteen dwarf friends by preventing the battle over the treasure that Thorin refuses to share with the Laketown survivors. Bilbo tries to accomplish this by giving the survivors Thorin's prized Arkenstone, which they can use as leverage to get their promised share of treasure from the corrupt dwarf king. It's an ingenious plan (despite Thorin trying to kill him over it), but then a bunch of other armies show up and make it all for nothing. Bilbo's new objective after that becomes to save Thorin and company from an ambush by Azog on Ravenhill during the battle. He does a good job of defying Gandalf's authority and reaching Thorin in time to warn him, but by then it's too late for them to escape from that ambush, so Thorin, Fili, and Kili end up dying anyway.

And then there's Bilbo's overall goal throughout the whole film: to save Thorin from his corruption. He does succeed at that, but Thorin's death soon afterwards makes it kind of a short life lesson, and since the other dwarves already disapproved of his greedy behavior, they don't really learn anything from the hobbit by the end either. What's more, instead of feeling uplifted by Thorin's noble redemption, Bilbo spends the rest of the movie and possibly the rest of his life so traumatized that he can barely even admit Thorin was his friend.

Man, and we say The Lord of the Rings is the darker story.

It's possible, like many issues with The Battle of the Five Armies, that this will be ironed out in the Extended Edition later this year. You can also make the argument that Bilbo's real goal throughout the entire trilogy was to help the dwarves of Erebor reclaim their homeland, which he did, and therefore he wasn't a failure. I heartily agree with that argument, but the third installment doesn't take the time to properly reflect on that and remind us of Bilbo's successes when all is said and done.

...And that's why I think The Battle of the Five Armies needed to establish Ori's journal.

If you read my essay "There's Something About Ori" back in November, you knew I was going to revisit that topic sooner or later after the third movie came out. Not only doesn't the mitten-wearing scribe get the payoff I was hoping to see for him in Battle, but he doesn't even photobomb Bilbo all that much. He does get to stand with Bofur at the front and center of the group when Bilbo says good-bye to the dwarves though, and I'm fairly certain there was a shot of him killing orcs during the company's charge onto the battlefield. It's also been brought to my attention that Ori did in fact draw the sketch of young Bilbo seen in An Unexpected Journey, so at least one speculation in my essay was right.

But I digress. In regards to Bilbo's successes, I think establishing Ori's journal would have done a world of good because it would have reintroduced a very important element of the story: legacy. That's the idea behind Bilbo's book, as well as all of the tales and songs presented in Middle-Earth. They're the means by which their writers pass along lessons and experiences so that future generations can learn from them as well. By informing Bilbo and the audience that one of the dwarves was documenting the quest the whole time, the third movie would have assured that the hobbit's part in that quest would become a major part of Erebor's history. Also, since Ori wrote that tale, we could assume that it would present Bilbo in a positive light and as a good role model.

Just think back to the company's prison-break from Mirkwood in The Desolation of Smaug. Right before Bilbo shows up with the keys, we see Ori very gloomily ask his brother, "We're never gonna reach the mountain, are we?" After Bilbo arrives and starts freeing the dwarves from their cells, we see Ori again, looking completely awestruck by him.

Wouldn't it be a great payoff to have Ori approach Bilbo, perhaps after Thorin's funeral in the Extended Edition, and tell him that every dwarf in Erebor who reads about its reclamation will know it was all thanks to a humble but decent hobbit? It might also be a nice touch if he mentions his notes including how that humble, decent hobbit made the fallen King Under the Mountain noble again. And just for continuity's sake, I would have Ori first break the ice by awkwardly giving Bilbo that portrait sketch.

Alas, like most of my recent Hobbit ramblings, whether or not something like this will happen remains to be seen. I don't know how much hype there's been for the last two Extended Editions, but I suspect the third one is going to stir up a heck of a lot more buzz. It might even stir up enough to rival the third film's theatrical release, at least among fans. And who can blame us? To me, the issue of Bilbo's undermined accomplishments at the end of The Battle of the Five Armies is the ultimate proof that we didn't get a whole movie last December.

And if by change the Extended Edition features a scene of Bilbo kicking Alfrid in the shin, I'll count that as another success.

What Happened to Loki in "Thor: The Dark World"?

Well, I've been on blog hiatus for long enough, and since Thor: The Dark World came out on DVD/Blu-Ray/Digital Download/Personal Hologram Projection this past week, I think I know an interesting topic to discuss today. For anyone who hasn't seen the movie, big spoiler alert:

Loki dies--maybe. I'm not really sure. That's what I wanted to discuss.

To be a little more on the nose, there's a fight scene about two-thirds of the way through the film where Loki is apparently killed, then a few scenes later, we see a guard who's clearly him in disguise get up from the spot where his body was left and return to Asgard. The payoff for this is a reveal of Loki sitting on the throne of Asgard in Odin's place at the very end of the film. We can probably all agree that the God of Mischief was carrying out some kind of scheme the whole time, but what viewers do disagree on is whether Loki just faked his death or actually died and somehow came back to life. The movie doesn't explain, so we pretty much have to speculate about what happened until the next Thor installment comes out.

With that said, let's weigh the pros and cons of each theory.

First, there's the theory that Loki just faked his death. That seems more likely since obviously, it's a lot easier for someone to fake death than to come back from it. Another obvious point is that Loki is a master illusionist who can magically alter his appearance whenever he wants. That would explain how he was able to look fatally wounded and turn pale as he seemed to fade out. On top of that, he can alter other people's appearances too, which could mean that the villain Kurse impaling him through the chest was also an illusion. For all we know, the real Kurse could have been standing around in confusion with some sort of invisibility spell over him while that fake image was playing out.

There's just one problem with this idea. Illusions can only make a person look dead; they can't make a person feel dead. I know Thor isn't very bright, but don't you think that a thousand-year-old warrior like him would at least know how to detect vital signs? He even had his hand under Loki's neck--one of the places where you can feel someone's pulse--all throughout his brother's death scene.

Granted, Thor was pretty upset at the time and might not have noticed that little detail, plus a huge sandstorm was starting up that forced him and Jane to move on and look for shelter right away, but Loki had no control over those factors. He already knew from his prison-break scene that Thor had learned to recognize his illusions, meaning there was a chance that Thor wouldn't fall for that trick again, and it's very unlikely that Loki planned for that sandstorm to start right after he faked his death. Considering that, it seems like he had no plan for how to get Thor away from him before those pesky vital signs could give him away. Could that be because he wasn't planning for his death to be fake?

That brings us to the other theory, that Loki genuinely died in the fight with Kurse and then resurrected shortly afterwards. Probably the biggest reason why people side with this idea is because something similar did happen to Loki in the Marvel comics. In that storyline, he was able to come back to life because of a deal he'd previously made with Hela, the ruler of the underworld, to have his name removed from all of her books. Having his name removed basically meant he had no more appointments with death and was therefore immortal, and he used this advantage in a scheme that involved him dying and reincarnating to throw the other Asgardians off of his trail. It would make sense if this was also the case in the movie, because then he wouldn't have to worry about casting any illusions. It's easier to really be dead than to act dead.

This wouldn't be the first time a character resurrected in the Thor films, after all. The God of Thunder did it himself in the first movie, and seeing how Loki has a knack for magic and inter-realm travel, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to manage the same feat. In fact, in the scene in The Dark World where Loki gets back up in his guard disguise, he appears to be winded or disoriented. It would seem odd for him to be in such a state if his battle injuries and death were faked, so this could be a sign that he really was recovering from something very painful or jarring. Also, the realm of the dead in Norse mythology is known as Hel, so Loki's line right before he kills Kurse may have actually been, "See you in Hel, monster!" rather than, "See you in hell, monster!" He could have literally meant that he was going to see Kurse face-to-face again in the underworld in a few minutes--and maybe even rub a good-bye in Kurse's face on his way back out of Hel.

Just like with the first theory though, this idea has one problem: why in the world would Loki ever take such a huge risk and actually let himself be killed? How did he know his plan to resurrect would work? Assuming he'd made his deal with Hela just like in the comics, how did he know she would uphold her end of the bargain and not decide to lock him up in Hel after all? I don't know much about Hela as a character, but isn't the ruler of the underworld in just about every religion and mythology prone to making loaded deals with tons of loopholes that they can exercise to get what they want? I suppose if anyone can outwit the ruler of death, it's Loki, but that still seems like a huge, unecessary gamble for him.

Even so, I still find myself leaning towards the resurrection theory. There just seems to be more source material behind it, plus it would open the movies up to feature Hel as one of the nine realms in  the next installment. This is all speculation of course, so I could turn out to be completely wrong on opening night of Thor 3, but that's the fun of theory rants. They're a brain exercise, and in some cases, they can even leave you with some interesting, original ideas that you can integrate into your own writing.

And whatever did happen to Loki in Thor: The Dark World, it's a good thing Thor didn't bury him. Wouldn't that have had a funny implication later in the movie?

Is "Conan the Barbarian" a Good Movie?

It's no secret that I love fantasy films, but it's probably fair to say that before Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy came along, the genre had a rather mixed reputation in Hollywood. Most of its best known entries like Hawk the Slayer, Beastmaster, and Willow were considered mediocre at best, and they usually fall into the "guilty pleasure" category for a lot of viewers today. By far the most infamous member of this lineup is the Arnold Schwarzenegger classic Conan the Barbarian, a film that was destined for countless parodies (including a fake preview for a sequel called Conan the Librarian in Weird Al's movie UHF) and was panned for straying from its source material long before the name "Tauriel" ever hit IMDb.

I saw this film for the first time just a few years ago, and I didn't exactly think the world of it going in either. In fact, I really just rented it for a laugh. It's an Arnie flick from the '80's, right? How good could it be? Suffice to say, I completely fell in love with the film and became so immersed in its drama that I actually got choked up when one of the heroes died three-fourths of the way through the story. Yes, Conan the Barbarian tugged at my heartstrings. I can't believe I just admitted that on the internet.

Looking back on all the jabs that this film's taken over the years, I have to wonder now: Is Conan the Barbarian a good movie? Has it been judged unfairly all this time, or does it deserve the mockery? Did it only impress me because I went in with severely low expectations that were easy to exceed? I've done a good bit of research since my first viewing, so let's see if I find an answer today.

For starters, there are a lot of undeniably good elements in the movie. The soundtrack in particular is amazing, one of the best ones out there, and the cinematography does an excellent job in conveying the grand scope of the setting. The special effects are also competently done for the most part, despite the limitations before CGI.

I'll even go out on a limb and say that the acting is halfway decent. Arnold can turn out a suitable performance under the right circumstance, and honestly, playing a big, awkward tough guy who doesn't say much is the right circumstance for him. It also helps that the supporting cast is able to pick up the slack and carry the more emotional scenes.

The main deciding factor for me though is the film's story.

It should be noted that Conan the Barbarian came out in the early '80's, right before Arnold Schwarzenegger and Reagan-era action films really became popular. Because of that, I think it narrowly avoided that over-the-top cheesy vibe that most of Arnold's other movies have. The filmmakers took it seriously, so the film ended up having a sense of dignity and weight to it. It's sequel Conan the Destroyer, however, did fall victim to that over-the-top '80's cheese and was a complete mess. And really, I think that sequel is a huge part of the issue. A lot of people probably regard Barbarian as a silly movie because they either lump it together with Destroyer in their heads or just get the two films confused.

That doesn't mean Barbarian is without its silly moments, though. There are some slapstick jokes and shots with hammy mugging sprinkled here and there, plus Arnold drops a one-liner or two that feel rather out of place. One scene that I never found necessary is when Conan steals a cult priest's robes in order to infiltrate the villain's fortress. He starts a friendly conversation with the priest and then slyly asks if they can continue the discussion in private, to which the priest agrees. I always thought the scene should have ended there and then cut to Conan already marching to the fortress in the priest's robes, much like how the scenes of him killing wolves for their fur and another character stealing a priestess's robes are just implied. Instead, we get an extra clip where the characters go to that private spot, Conan makes more idle chit-chat, knocks out the priest, then says a snide remark about it. That bit just feels like it was thrown in for a cheap laugh and doesn't really add anything.

On the other hand, some of the silly scenes do add something to the story. There's a scene earlier where Conan and his friend Subotai are wandering through the streets drunk and the former punches out a camel that's in his way, drawing a ton of stares from nearby witnesses. This would be pretty stupid and pointless on its own, but Subotai's comment afterwards that Conan is "too big to be a thief," actually turns it into an establishing plot point. Up until this moment, both the film and Conan's peers totally glorify his senseless violent behavior. By suddenly putting him in a situation where violence is uncalled for and garners negative attention, the film demonstrates that its hero's greatest strength is actually a flaw. He's a brute who charges head-on into everything without thinking, and that gets him into trouble later in the story. The whole point of his character arc is that he learns to be stealthy and strategic and becomes something greater than a barbarian by the end, and without that camel scene, this arc wouldn't have been properly set up.

Also, for all the goofy moments, there are just as many serious ones. I mentioned before that the movie was very loosely adapted from another medium, namely a series of stories by Robert E. Howard. A few scenes and subplots in the movie are taken directly from Howard's works, most notably the storyline with Conan's love interest Valeria, and while they're fairly simple, they're done quite well. My only gripe with that storyline is that Conan says virtually nothing to Valeria in any of their scenes--her name isn't even said once in the whole film--so their moments together do tend to feel one-sided.

As for the serious material that was written strictly for the movie...the subtext is usually stronger than what's said onscreen. I was never exactly clear on how the "Riddle of Steel" storyline was resolved since the characters stop talking about it after Act 2, but their actions convey an idea that's close enough to what was intended. I strongly recommend watching the DVD commentary, as director John Milius gives a lot of insight into the symbolism and character motivations throughout the film, but since you shouldn't have to watch a movie with footnotes to fully understand it, I still have to fault it.

So what's my verdict on Conan the Barbarian? Well, it depends on what version of the movie you watch. The original theatrical cut is the version normally shown on TV, and many of the deeper scenes are missing because the studio felt they broke up the action too much and made the film boring. That's a rant for another time. The version on the DVD has those scenes restored, and while they still don't make the movie Oscar-worthy, I think they do make it far better. Bottom line, the original cut merits way more teasing than the restored one, but both versions deserve a higher respect for what they're trying to do. I say it's a good movie.

But the 2011 reboot should be crucified on the Tree of Woe.