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.
Showing posts with label pokemon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pokemon. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
The Appeal of Tom Bombadil
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Monday, January 13, 2014
The All-or-None Ending
This blog entry might contain spoilers.
I got reacquainted with the Whodunnit comedy film Clue earlier this week. In case you're unfamiliar with that movie, it's adapted from the classic Parker Brothers board game (back in the days when movies based on board games were clever and memorable) and was originally released in theatres in three different versions, each with its own unique ending. Each version can be viewed on the DVD, either with all three resolutions shown one after the other at the film's end or with just one resolution that the DVD randomly chooses.
The three endings go as follows: In Ending 1, one of the six suspects turns out to be the murderer, who also had some help from an accomplice before adding them to the body count. In Ending 2, another suspect who worked entirely alone turns out to be the murderer. In Ending 3, every suspect turns out to have killed one person each over the course of the film. While none of these endings makes total sense, I've always liked the version where everyone is guilty the best. Not only does it take the film's over-the-top-confusion motif to the maximum, but it also feels truer to the original board game, where every suspect has been the killer at some point.
This brings me to today's topic, something I like to call an "All-or-None" ending. This is a type of narrative outcome, specifically in stories containing a competitive element, that either combines or dismisses every option that the story originally presented. In murder mysteries like Clue, the usual assumption going in is that just one of the suspects is the culprit, so an ending where everyone's a culprit is far more surprising because it shows that we were right to be suspicious of every character the whole time. In Clue's case, the "everyone's a culprit" ending also makes the overall story and ensemble cast of characters feel more unified and balanced since it doesn't suddenly pick one suspect to focus on at the end.
In contrast, another Whodunnit comedy film called Murder by Death plays with our murder mystery expectations by revealing that there was never really a murder at all -- maybe. That's another confusing one. Either way, none of the detectives involved ever wins their host's contest by solving the case and identifying a culprit. In both It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and Rat Race, none of the parties chasing after the cash prize ends up winning it. These resolutions again create unification and balance in their overall stories and ensemble casts by not suddenly favoring one character over the rest.
All-or-None endings are also popular in "Versus" movies. The assumption going into a film called Mega Shark Versus Giant Octopus is that one of the over-sized sea monsters will defeat the other by the end, much like how a boxing match has a clear winner and loser in the final round. Instead, Mega Shark and Giant Octopus kill each other at the same time and there's no winner at all. Pokémon: The First Movie builds up to a huge throw-down between Mew and Mewtwo, but both characters end up deciding to call it a draw because they're too evenly matched for one to defeat the other. This could be a case of a fight having either no winner or two winners, depending on how you want to look at it.
Even when films like this do pick a victor, they don't always commit to it. Films like Freddy vs. Jason, Alien vs. Predator, and a large number of Godzilla movies end with a last-minute hint that the loser is or could be a threat still. This seems to be a trend for two reasons: 1) It leaves the film open for sequels, and 2) it keeps the film from totally disappointing and alienating fans of the defeated character. While this may be a more cynical view of All-or-None endings, these movies are still aware that both of their titular combatants are equally important.
So what am I getting at with all this rambling? Mainly that the All-or-None ending has a place in storytelling even if it may seem indecisive at first. It's always important to have a clear hierarchy of importance in mind for your characters when you write, and in cases where all of your major players are of equal importance, suddenly shifting most of the attention to one of them at the end can feel a bit out of nowhere and arbitrary.
If you properly set one character apart from the rest throughout the story, perhaps by telling it from their point of view or by giving them the most emphasis in each scene, then making them the focus of the ending would feel a lot more natural. That's not to say that this rule can never be broken, but it's usually best to clearly set something up before paying it off. Otherwise, a lot more stories might come with multiple, interchangeable endings that don't always add up -- and that doesn't fare well outside of comedy.
I got reacquainted with the Whodunnit comedy film Clue earlier this week. In case you're unfamiliar with that movie, it's adapted from the classic Parker Brothers board game (back in the days when movies based on board games were clever and memorable) and was originally released in theatres in three different versions, each with its own unique ending. Each version can be viewed on the DVD, either with all three resolutions shown one after the other at the film's end or with just one resolution that the DVD randomly chooses.
The three endings go as follows: In Ending 1, one of the six suspects turns out to be the murderer, who also had some help from an accomplice before adding them to the body count. In Ending 2, another suspect who worked entirely alone turns out to be the murderer. In Ending 3, every suspect turns out to have killed one person each over the course of the film. While none of these endings makes total sense, I've always liked the version where everyone is guilty the best. Not only does it take the film's over-the-top-confusion motif to the maximum, but it also feels truer to the original board game, where every suspect has been the killer at some point.
This brings me to today's topic, something I like to call an "All-or-None" ending. This is a type of narrative outcome, specifically in stories containing a competitive element, that either combines or dismisses every option that the story originally presented. In murder mysteries like Clue, the usual assumption going in is that just one of the suspects is the culprit, so an ending where everyone's a culprit is far more surprising because it shows that we were right to be suspicious of every character the whole time. In Clue's case, the "everyone's a culprit" ending also makes the overall story and ensemble cast of characters feel more unified and balanced since it doesn't suddenly pick one suspect to focus on at the end.
In contrast, another Whodunnit comedy film called Murder by Death plays with our murder mystery expectations by revealing that there was never really a murder at all -- maybe. That's another confusing one. Either way, none of the detectives involved ever wins their host's contest by solving the case and identifying a culprit. In both It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and Rat Race, none of the parties chasing after the cash prize ends up winning it. These resolutions again create unification and balance in their overall stories and ensemble casts by not suddenly favoring one character over the rest.
All-or-None endings are also popular in "Versus" movies. The assumption going into a film called Mega Shark Versus Giant Octopus is that one of the over-sized sea monsters will defeat the other by the end, much like how a boxing match has a clear winner and loser in the final round. Instead, Mega Shark and Giant Octopus kill each other at the same time and there's no winner at all. Pokémon: The First Movie builds up to a huge throw-down between Mew and Mewtwo, but both characters end up deciding to call it a draw because they're too evenly matched for one to defeat the other. This could be a case of a fight having either no winner or two winners, depending on how you want to look at it.
Even when films like this do pick a victor, they don't always commit to it. Films like Freddy vs. Jason, Alien vs. Predator, and a large number of Godzilla movies end with a last-minute hint that the loser is or could be a threat still. This seems to be a trend for two reasons: 1) It leaves the film open for sequels, and 2) it keeps the film from totally disappointing and alienating fans of the defeated character. While this may be a more cynical view of All-or-None endings, these movies are still aware that both of their titular combatants are equally important.
So what am I getting at with all this rambling? Mainly that the All-or-None ending has a place in storytelling even if it may seem indecisive at first. It's always important to have a clear hierarchy of importance in mind for your characters when you write, and in cases where all of your major players are of equal importance, suddenly shifting most of the attention to one of them at the end can feel a bit out of nowhere and arbitrary.
If you properly set one character apart from the rest throughout the story, perhaps by telling it from their point of view or by giving them the most emphasis in each scene, then making them the focus of the ending would feel a lot more natural. That's not to say that this rule can never be broken, but it's usually best to clearly set something up before paying it off. Otherwise, a lot more stories might come with multiple, interchangeable endings that don't always add up -- and that doesn't fare well outside of comedy.
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Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Fanfiction Friction
I don't know if this is something to be embarrassed by or not, but I have a confession to make: I used to write fanfiction. A lot.
For those of you who don't know, a fanfiction ("fanfic" for short) is a piece of literature that ties in with a movie, book, TV show, etc. and is written by a fan of that franchise rather than the official writer or writers. It can be anything from a short poem to a novel-length story with multiple chapters, and it usually centers around pre-existing characters from said franchise. Anyone can write one, and there are entire websites such as Fanfiction.net, Deviantart.com, and Justexpressing.com that are dedicated to sharing them.
So why is it semi-embarrassing for one to admit that they write fanfiction? Well, there are two main reasons. The first is that, as stated before, anyone can write it - including people who simply can't write. For every decent fanfic out there, there's probably a hundred terrible ones, so the practice is usually viewed as a joke among serious writers. It doesn't help that a large portion of those terrible stories are full of idiotic romance (often with fan-made characters who are obviously stand-ins for the fanfic writers themselves) and loads of disgustingly detailed smut. I've never put anything like that in my stories, and that seems to make fanfics like mine a rarity.
The second reason, which I do take some blame for, is that fanfiction tends to be a huge waste of time and effort. You spend days, weeks, months, and sometimes even years writing a story that you can't publish once it's finished because it's about characters whom you don't own the rights to. Sometimes you can change their names and make a few other adjustments to turn out something original, like E.L. James did for Fifty Shades of Grey, but normally the details are so specific that there's no way to cover up who the characters are supposed to be. I have four or five novel-length fanfics out there, and only one of them has a chance of becoming an original work that I can publish. My Kindle library could be almost triple the size it is now if I wasn't so obsessed with Lord of the Rings, Pokémon, and Pirates of the Caribbean in high school.
At the same time though, there are some benefits to writing fanfiction. If you're serious about it, it can be a great exercise tool. I can honestly say that my writing style, character development, and overall storytelling skills have improved ten times since Deer Lake, and that's thanks to practicing on fanfics and getting constant feedback from online readers. Feedback isn't something you get on a regular basis when working on a book. The only downside is that when you write about characters that have previously been established in other works of fiction, you don't get much practice at creating any from scratch. That's why it's hard to get away from writing fanfics and focus solely on original works; you get more story ideas for characters that you already know.
So the question for anyone else in this position is, how do you make that transition? How do you take that urge to write about your favorite fictional characters and harness it to help you create your own great work? The answer is fairly simple: trick your brain into thinking that you're still writing fanfiction.
For instance, if you're a huge Jack Sparrow fan, then come up with a character for your book that exhibits Jack-Sparrow-like personality traits, then picture him in their place every time you write a scene for them. It doesn't matter if your character looks nothing like him, just picture him in their place anyway. Ask yourself how Jack would react to the situation in the scene you're writing, and the ideas will most likely come to you. The goal is that eventually your character will outgrow their Jack Sparrow training wheels and take on a life of their own. You might even decide to go back and change some of their earlier scenes to make their behavior more like your re-envisioning of them and less like Captain Jack. I do this all the time with my characters, and so far, it's worked very well.
Another strategy that I've recently started to use is "reassigning" fanfiction scenes. Suppose a really interesting scene for a potential fanfic just materializes in your head one day. Instead of writing it about Jack Sparrow or whomever you picture as the subject, look at the cast in your book and decide who among them is most like the person in that scene. Make a few adjustments to the scene, and you've suddenly got a really interesting moment in your book. I took a bunch of ideas for things I'd like to see in the next Hobbit movie and turned them into what I think is a funny and heartfelt mini plot for Part 2 of my sci-fi/fantasy series. Heck, I've even got half of an outline for a Pokémon fanfic that I'm in the process of developing into a prequel to my series.
Bottom line, fanfiction can be both a curse and a blessing to writers in this day and age. The trick is learning how to rein in that wild horse so it can pull your carriage and get you rolling.
For those of you who don't know, a fanfiction ("fanfic" for short) is a piece of literature that ties in with a movie, book, TV show, etc. and is written by a fan of that franchise rather than the official writer or writers. It can be anything from a short poem to a novel-length story with multiple chapters, and it usually centers around pre-existing characters from said franchise. Anyone can write one, and there are entire websites such as Fanfiction.net, Deviantart.com, and Justexpressing.com that are dedicated to sharing them.
So why is it semi-embarrassing for one to admit that they write fanfiction? Well, there are two main reasons. The first is that, as stated before, anyone can write it - including people who simply can't write. For every decent fanfic out there, there's probably a hundred terrible ones, so the practice is usually viewed as a joke among serious writers. It doesn't help that a large portion of those terrible stories are full of idiotic romance (often with fan-made characters who are obviously stand-ins for the fanfic writers themselves) and loads of disgustingly detailed smut. I've never put anything like that in my stories, and that seems to make fanfics like mine a rarity.
The second reason, which I do take some blame for, is that fanfiction tends to be a huge waste of time and effort. You spend days, weeks, months, and sometimes even years writing a story that you can't publish once it's finished because it's about characters whom you don't own the rights to. Sometimes you can change their names and make a few other adjustments to turn out something original, like E.L. James did for Fifty Shades of Grey, but normally the details are so specific that there's no way to cover up who the characters are supposed to be. I have four or five novel-length fanfics out there, and only one of them has a chance of becoming an original work that I can publish. My Kindle library could be almost triple the size it is now if I wasn't so obsessed with Lord of the Rings, Pokémon, and Pirates of the Caribbean in high school.
At the same time though, there are some benefits to writing fanfiction. If you're serious about it, it can be a great exercise tool. I can honestly say that my writing style, character development, and overall storytelling skills have improved ten times since Deer Lake, and that's thanks to practicing on fanfics and getting constant feedback from online readers. Feedback isn't something you get on a regular basis when working on a book. The only downside is that when you write about characters that have previously been established in other works of fiction, you don't get much practice at creating any from scratch. That's why it's hard to get away from writing fanfics and focus solely on original works; you get more story ideas for characters that you already know.
So the question for anyone else in this position is, how do you make that transition? How do you take that urge to write about your favorite fictional characters and harness it to help you create your own great work? The answer is fairly simple: trick your brain into thinking that you're still writing fanfiction.
For instance, if you're a huge Jack Sparrow fan, then come up with a character for your book that exhibits Jack-Sparrow-like personality traits, then picture him in their place every time you write a scene for them. It doesn't matter if your character looks nothing like him, just picture him in their place anyway. Ask yourself how Jack would react to the situation in the scene you're writing, and the ideas will most likely come to you. The goal is that eventually your character will outgrow their Jack Sparrow training wheels and take on a life of their own. You might even decide to go back and change some of their earlier scenes to make their behavior more like your re-envisioning of them and less like Captain Jack. I do this all the time with my characters, and so far, it's worked very well.
Another strategy that I've recently started to use is "reassigning" fanfiction scenes. Suppose a really interesting scene for a potential fanfic just materializes in your head one day. Instead of writing it about Jack Sparrow or whomever you picture as the subject, look at the cast in your book and decide who among them is most like the person in that scene. Make a few adjustments to the scene, and you've suddenly got a really interesting moment in your book. I took a bunch of ideas for things I'd like to see in the next Hobbit movie and turned them into what I think is a funny and heartfelt mini plot for Part 2 of my sci-fi/fantasy series. Heck, I've even got half of an outline for a Pokémon fanfic that I'm in the process of developing into a prequel to my series.
Bottom line, fanfiction can be both a curse and a blessing to writers in this day and age. The trick is learning how to rein in that wild horse so it can pull your carriage and get you rolling.
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