NFB Re-Watches The Lord Of The Rings: The Use And Abuse Of Nature In “The Caverns Of Isengard”

Previous entry: “A Knife In The Dark” And Mixing Realism With Fantasy

The earth groans…

The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring – “The Caverns Of Isengard”

Wherein Gandalf makes a friend; Isengard has a lot of space in the basement it wasn’t previously using; and Saruman goes all Frankenstein.

The use and abuse of nature is a theme that we are probably going to be coming back to a lot in the course of this series, because it is simply intrinsic to just about every facet of Middle-Earth as Tolkien wrote it and as Jackson adapted it. Much of that will revolve around Saruman and Isengard, the very picture of Middle-Earth industrial might, but it will also revolve around Gandalf and all that he represents, namely an greater attuning with nature, that manifests in examples of cooperation and mutual benefit. “The Caverns Of Isengard” is a film chapter that showcases both Gandalf’s efforts to ally himself with natural forces and Saruman’s more hideous mission to subvert the natural order to serve him, and contains within itself some of the trilogy’s most eye-catching visuals in its two-and-a-half minute span.

The very first thing that we see in this chapter is a sweeping look at the devastation that Saruman’s plans for Isengard have wrought to the environment, as seen beginning in “The Spoilage Of Isengard”, with the circle of the environment now rent apart with pits and fissures, all basking in an orange glow of torches and larger fires. It’s a terrible image, but we move swiftly on to Gandalf’s efforts to work in cooperation with nature in order to effect an escape from the pinnacle of Orthanc. On the top of the tower, he is suddenly approached by a moth. It’s unclear whether this creature has been summoned or has just happened to come by at this exact moment: in the context of this discussion that actually could be described as an important distinction, as one case is just happenstance and the other could be described as a compulsion. More likely is a middle course, where Gandalf has reached out through his magical power and sought aid, and this creature has been in the right place and the right time to do so. In offering itself as a would-be messenger for the trapped wizard, the moth represents an almost consciousness in wider nature, that sees what is happening in Isengard, doesn’t like it, and is thus compelled to get involved. Such consciousness and anger will see its final demonstration at the conclusion of the next part of the trilogy through the ents, but this is a potent enough example of the sentiment.

From there, we turn back to the titular caverns, for one of the trilogy’s most searing montages. Everything about what is happening underneath the surface of Isengard is made to look as horrific as possible: the environment is this dilapidated rocky mess, everything is bathed in firelight, the orcs look monstrous and that’s before we even get to what they are doing. Trees are still being chopped down and then dumped into the metaphorical meatgrinder, there to be torn apart and thrown into furnaces, that you an easily imagine are running night and day. There is no respect, or restraint, in that process: Saruman needs to build an army, and that army needs swords and armour. Isengard rejects nature utterly, as something good only for the fuel it provides for metalworkers. The rapid cuts between examples of that smithy, in combination with that repeating leitmotif of the score, really makes the impression of Isengard as this obscene factory, which has no room for the uniqueness of green nature, instead preferring repetition in its work, to be carried out at all costs.

And that’s before we get to the Uruk-hai. The manner of orc replication in Tolkien’s work is a matter of some speculation, since the man himself did not seemingly want to spend a great deal of time on the issue. It appears he intended for orcs to reproduce just like everything else, but the Uruk-hai, a blended race that came from men and orcs (and just think about what that actually means for a second) come with a definite feeling of the natural order being overridden. In that, there is a very clear feeling of racist thinking, even if subconscious, coming into the affair, the idea that different races breeding produces what is essentially an uber-tough violent monster. But I’m perhaps wandering off down a dark tangent in relation to the text, when it is the film version that I should be focusing on.

The Uruk-hai of Jackson’s The Lord Of The Rings are a different thing entirely. While Gandalf will later talk about breeding between races having a hand in their creation, what we see in these mud pits is something more akin to the birth of some insect (a deliberate thing, with the production idea of the Uruk-hai birthing process being akin to maggots). “Lurtz”, as this first Uruk-hai is named in the script, emerges fully-grown from some sort of membrane buried deep in the muck of the caverns, covered in a disgusting looking mucus and ready to kill the moment that he is on two-feet. It’s a horrific image before you even get into the physical description of Lurtz, with that canine-like face, lengthy claws and tangible sense of menace. The orcs that we have seen thus far are nasty creatures, prone to cruelty, but this is something different, by far the most terrible looking creature of Middle-Earth we have caught sight of so far. And it is the apparent reality that it is a manufactured creation of Saruman, as opposed to a being brought into the world in the way that everything else is, that really adds to the terrible sense of something fundamentally unnatural, a subversion of the biological process. It’s a stark raising of the stakes from the destruction of the trees.

The last thing is to bring us back to the wizards in this scene, with their respective statuses and reactions bookending the chapter. Gandalf we know is horrified by what is happening below him, but Saruman exhibits a creepy delight in what is playing out. His tour of the caverns is the method by which the viewer takes in all of the sights and sounds, and his own face betrays a barely hidden grin of happiness at the work and the fires, as if this is everything that he has ever dreamed of. Has he spent all of his time in Orthanc imagining this moment, when he would get to enjoy the full execution of his dark designs? Then, he gazes in something akin to awe at the sight of his most monstrous creation, the Uruk-hai, coming to life before him, delighting in how its first act upon being birthed is to kill the orc in front of it. Saruman holds back others from intervening, a twisted parent figure who is only too happy to witness this dark coming of age. The betrayal of nature and its abuse is something that makes the wizard truly happy, the cackling glee of a bully getting his way.

I think that “The Caverns Of Isengard” does a really good job with its presentation of this theme. The bookending of things with the experience of the two wizards is really clever, with Gandalf’s communion with nature contrasted so well with Saruman’s malicious glee at all of the terrible things he is doing to nature at the exact same time. In the middle, we have this well-executed trek through the titular caverns, with all of their brutish industry and perversions of nature in the form of the Uruk-hai, terrible creations that make manifest Saruman’s fall into darkness. Saruman’s status as the main villain of this particular story has now been well-established, even if we will in future only get a brief explanation for Gandalf’s escape.

The wind is crying

Notes

-The music here is the rest of “The Caverns Of Isengard” from the complete recordings, consisting of that amazing mix of the Isengard five beat pattern in its percussion, and the standard Isengard theme in its horns, all blaring and repetition to emphasise the industrial nature of what we are seeing. It’s intercut with “A Moth In Isengard”, a brief choir addition whose lyrics are essentially a moment of mourning for what is happening to the world.

-Pretty sure, minus Gandalf’s mumbling, this is the first scene of the film with no spoken dialogue.

-Love that initial aerial view of what Isengard has turned into, a place of pits and fire, but it’s the CGI work on the individuals, tiny but unmistakable in their uniqueness, that is really impressive.

-The moth is probably an Opodiphthera eucalypti, or an Emperor Gum moth, that is an Australian native later introduced to New Zealand.

-Love that tracking shot as we go from the pinnacle of Orthanc all the way down the side of the tower into the depths of the cavern, the camera settling on a glowing red sword being hammered into the right form.

-The breeding pit, for lack of a better term, is fairly nightmarish all of its own, an abscess of mud where Uruk-hai seem to be grown. We’re probably all better off not knowing the ins-and-outs of this whole process.

-“Lurtz”, an original creation, is certainly a notable looking being, who will fulfil the film’s need for a direct antagonist for the forces of good to battle at the conclusion.

Final Thoughts: The chapters set in Isengard have constituted breakaways from the “main” plot of the story thus far, brief interludes to make the narrative a bit more interesting. But, on their own merits, they are really fascinating set pieces all of their own, that introduce new themes to the story and provide intriguing contrasts between some of the central characters. We’re nearing the end of Book One’s adaptation now, and next time it will be a race to the finish.

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