How on earth are you all dealing with this thing? 😢 It’s honestly pretty wild when you think about it—how there isn't one definitive cure for this incredibly common ailment, yet some much more severe diseases can be totally wiped out.
melloweagle26 said:John Williams—he is hands down one of the most prolific film composers out there! 🙂
Right? And besides him, you've got Howard Shore, who did that incredible work for all three of Peter Jackson's films. Hans Zimmer has started to sound a bit repetitive lately, though—you’ll find yourself spotting his leitmotifs in just about everything he touches these days.
Max Steiner's "Gone with the Wind" from 1939, John Berry, Patrick Doyle, Danny Elfman, Ennio Morricone... Even Vangelis isn't half bad, even if everyone seems to love hating on him. 😁
I’d love to dive back into the classics—specifically Forman's "Amadeus" and that one movie "Farinelli," though I can't quite recall who directed it at the moment.
The first one is an absolute masterpiece where Antonio Salieri recounts the life of Mozart, while the second focuses on the legendary castrato Farinelli, along with some Handel and all those messy political intrigues from the Baroque era.
There was a time when Mariah Carey possessed this incredible, five-octave range—the kind of voice that even Aretha Franklin would deeply respect. Nowadays, I just can't bring myself to call her vocals beautiful anymore.
Her latest album feels like a shadow of her former self, mostly just a collection of aimless humming. 😢
John Williams with "Star Wars", "Harry Potter", and so many others... Howard Shore with "Lord of the Rings"—especially "The Two Towers" James Horner with "Titanic" and "Braveheart"
You can actually find a list of the absolute best tracks based on listener votes if you go find on NPR.
Shelob is her, really; I doubt you've actually sat down with the The Two Towers book, but hey, it's fine. Regarding my respect for Tolkien's work—or rather, the way I'm approaching this—it's my second time around.👍
Thanks so much to everyone for all the kind compliments! Seriously, you guys are the best. I actually posted this exact same topic on a few other forums too—and honestly, everyone gave me the same response.
Here are a few more changes:
Just some trivialities and fun facts!
One of the most obvious and important differences between The Two Towers and The Fellowship of the Ring is just how much less screen time is dedicated to all those intricate subplots and tiny details. Because of that—and honestly, it makes things move along a bit faster—I find myself doing way less deep-diving into trivia compared to the first film. Still, though, there are definitely a few interesting little nuggets worth mentioning! Legolas's vision can be incredibly sharp—I mean, the guy practically sees through walls—but his sense of direction? Not so much. It leaves you feeling like a crucial detail is just missing. Right near the start of the movie, he tells the rest of the group that Saruman's Uruk had veered northwest. If they had actually followed that lead, it would have sent them straight back across the river and deeper into the wilderness. In reality, their path toward Isengard was northwest from exactly where Legolas was standing—something that's actually confirmed later in the film when we see Faramir's map. Isn't it funny how even the best eyes can miss the big picture sometimes? Faramir's map is a pretty solid piece of work—honestly, it’s very similar to the maps you find in the books—but there is one glaring omission that really catches your eye. It looks like Minas Morgul has completely vanished from the layout. Now, that is incredibly strange, isn't it? After all, Minas Morgul was Sauron's main stronghold west of the mountains, where the Lord of the Nazgûl actually managed things personally. Plus, it's only about a day's march from Faramir's position in Osgiliath. It feels just so weird—and honestly, a little sketchy!—that the Gondorian cartographers would leave such a massive landmark off the map entirely. So, I was thinking about that bit in Fellowship of the Ring—you know, where Saruman claims Sauron still can't take on a physical form? Honestly, if you stick to the original books, that whole idea is pretty baseless. And don't even get me started on The Two Towers, which takes things to an even weirder level by portraying Sauron as this massive, floating fiery eye hovering over his tower. It’s all a bit much, isn't it? These cinematic choices are honestly tough to wrap your head around, especially since Tolkien gives us such a perfectly grounded description of the character. He actually wrote, "Sauron should be thought of as very terrible. The form he has taken is that of a man, somewhat taller than human stature, but not giant." (That's from J. R. R. Tolkien's Letters, number 246, back in 1963). Makes you wonder why they went in such a different direction, right? Deep in Fangorn's forest, Merry actually brings up those weird, unsettling trees in the Old Forest near the borders of Buckland—you know, the ones right on the edge of the Shire. It’s funny because even though we don't see it happen on screen, those little Hobbits definitely had to trek through that creepy woods on their way to Bree during the events of the Fellowship of the Ring. Honestly, considering Pippin nearly met his end in that very forest, does he really need the reminder? Talk about a close call! As we watch the defense of Helm's Deep unfold, we catch this quick glimpse of a bearded soldier raising his hand—but wait, that’s actually just Peter Jackson in his director's chair! And finally, I have to touch on one bit of nonsense that some of those deep-dive Tolkien scholars love to obsess over—specifically, the whole debate regarding vegetables in Middle-earth. Honestly, it feels a little silly to me, but hey, I suppose I should mention it. It’s pretty clear that whoever is making these claims doesn't have much of a grasp on geology or tectonic plate shifts, right? The argument goes something like this: "There have been strange mentions of certain vegetables appearing in Middle-earth—like tomatoes—that technically shouldn't be there. In The Two Towers, we see a weird coincidence: Sam talks about potatoes thousands of years before they are actually introduced east of the Great Sea. While the oddities in the first movie were just creative liberties taken by the filmmakers, these potato references come directly from Tolkien himself."
And then...
So, when Aragorn calls Éowyn "daughter of the King," there's actually some pretty deep lore behind that—if you dig into Tolkien's work, his reasoning becomes much clearer. Her mother, Théodwyn, was actually the youngest sister of King Theoden himself. This means she likely holds a direct claim to the lineage of King Thengel, all the way back through his royal ancestors to Eorl the Young, the man who founded Rohan over five centuries ago. Isn't it fascinating how those family trees connect? One of those legendary ancestors was actually Helm Hammerhand—the very guy Helm's Deep was named after! Back in his day, the lands of Rohan were constantly being trampled by the Dunland tribes, so Helm ended up leading his people to take refuge in a massive ravine just past the fortress. Even though we don't hear Helm mentioned by name in the movie, we still get to see his statue, and there’s that great moment where Gimli blows into his famous horn in the city. We also see Saruman egging on the Men in his own ranks—and it turns out they're actually the descendants of those same Dunland groups who attacked Rohan two hundred and fifty years earlier. Isn't it wild how history just keeps looping back like that? So, Aglarond—those caves tucked away behind Helm's Deep—get a quick mention in the movie, right? But you know what they don't really dive into? Their massive impact on Gimli. Given that classic Dwarven obsession with all things underground, he was basically spellbound by the sheer beauty of those caverns. It makes total sense, actually—in the years following the war, he eventually heads back there with a larger group of his people from the North to establish a Dwarven kingdom, officially taking on the title of Lord of the Glittering Caves. Isn't it cool how those small details shape everything? • The movie doesn't dive too deep into the history behind Osgiliath, which is the place Frodo and Sam visit (at least in the film version). This city sitting right there on the Great Sea used to be the ancient capital of Gondor. It’s had a pretty brutal past, though—think devastating civil wars and massive plagues—so by the time we get to the War for the Ring, it had actually been abandoned for centuries. • Right at the start of the film, you hear Gollum muttering about how "she" will be able to get The Ring for him. Now, if you're already familiar with the story, you probably know exactly who "she" is—but if you don't, and you aren't willing to wait a whole year to find out, maybe just pick up the book!
Changes in the movie "The Two Towers" compared to the book
A possibly obvious and important difference is how the two storylines in "The Two Towers" are actually presented. Tolkien's original work is literally split into two distinct books: the first follows all of Aragorn's adventures in Rohan and the destruction of Isengard, and then the second shifts focus back to Frodo and Sam, centering on their trek through the borderlands of Mordor. Tolkien's hope was that a film version would maintain that dual narrative structure. Regarding a previous attempt to adapt the book, he once wrote: "It is vital that these two branches be treated as coherent sequences" (The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, letter no. 210, from 1958, with the original italics). Still, it’s not too surprising that the current cinematic version takes a more conventional approach—cutting between various plot lines as they unfold before treating them as totally separate arcs. In both versions of the story, however, the movie wraps things up much sooner than the book does. Tolkien's "The Two Towers" covers a seventeen-day span, but the film only deals with thirteen of those days, losing about eight chapters in total. If the rumors are true, some of these missing events will probably be moved to the opening scenes of "Return of the King." The film includes several subplots that are entirely made up by the filmmakers, with nothing directly comparable in the books. Perhaps the most drawn-out one is the battle of the Rohirrim against the forces on the road to Helm's Deep. That battle is unique to the film version, as are Aragorn's subsequent adventures—like falling into a river that sweeps him away from the others, and then, once he finally finds his horse, spotting Saruman's armies approaching before riding off toward Helm's Deep. Similarly, the entire scene involving Elrond's warnings to Arwen, along with Galadriel's commentary on the situation, only happens in the movie. None of these characters even show up in the original book! The idea behind these additions really clashes with Tolkien's intention—in the book, there's no question about Arwen leaving Middle-earth, nor does Aragorn worry she might actually go; the two of them had pledged themselves to one another long ago. While the film hints at a potential romance between Aragorn and Éowyn, in the book, that’s just pretty much unthinkable. The story regarding Frodo's encounter with Faramir is completely overhauled. Tolkien's Faramir is one of the most perceptive and compassionate characters in the book, smart enough to sense the importance of Frodo's quest and allow him to continue without getting in the way. In the film, he loses all those qualities—by deciding to take The Ring to Minas Tirith, he pulls Frodo and Sam about forty miles off their intended path, allowing the Nazgûl to discover The Ring in Osgiliath before he realizes he's made a huge mistake. Just the thought of The Ring being discovered by one of Sauron's servants in Osgiliath threatens to undermine the entire premise. The whole point of the mission is for Frodo to sneak The Ring into Mordor. His only real hope lies in Sauron's ignorance of where The Ring is located, yet here we see one of Sauron's minions discovering its exact location right on the doorstep of his master's kingdom. It isn't entirely clear how Frodo survives his encounter—a dangerous and reckless adventure like that simply doesn't happen in the book. In both the book and the film, the Ents are spurred to attack Saruman in Isengard, but the details of how that comes to pass are strangely different. In the book, the Ents meet at the Entmoot to discuss the destruction of their forest, which Saruman is leveling, and they finally decide to strike at Isengard. In the movie, the same gathering occurs, but the Ents decide *not* to attack. Then, Merry and Pippin manipulate Treebeard into witnessing the destruction of the forest, which triggers a change of heart and his decision to call the Ents to war. The logic in the film version is honestly quite hard to follow. If Treebeard didn't know about Saruman's destruction of the forest, why would he call an Entmoot in the first place? And if it's necessary for the Ents to reach a consensus before going to war, how can Treebeard unilaterally flip their decision? What's even more interesting is that since he had been walking through the forest miles away from the other Ents (who, remember, decided *not* to attack Isengard), he would only need to call them, and they would all step up unanimously, ready for action. All in all, Tolkien's version of these events seems to make much more sense. Finally, we need to talk about Éomer—his role in the movie gets shrunk down to almost nothing! In the book, he’s actually a major player. Once Gandalf heals King Théoden, Éomer becomes the heir to the kingdom of Rohan and sticks by Théoden's side, fighting right alongside Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli to defend Helm's Deep. Interestingly, in the original text, Helm's Deep isn't reinforced by Éomer (who is already there anyway), but by a pretty different character named Erkenbrand. Also, in the books, the Ents are supposed to play a part too, though the way the timeline shifts in the film makes that impossible.
Minor tweaks
Beyond the massive structural shifts from the book, the film also throws in a bunch of smaller adjustments. These are the kind of changes that don't totally derail the plot, but they are still quite a departure from what Tolkien wrote. The first one is the actual scale of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields (or Helm's Deep, as it seems to have become the universal name thanks to the movie, even though Tolkien never used that term). In Tolkien's version, the whole battle spans about ten pages—less than one single chapter out of twenty-one. In the book, it’s expanded to cover about a third of the story. It'll be absolutely fascinating to see how the filmmakers handle the much larger battle at the Pelennor Fields in 'Return of the King'! The idea of Lórien Elves marching off to help Rohan feels almost unthinkable—it definitely doesn't happen in the books. These elves had zero historical connection to the Rohirrim, and in fact, they were facing their own threats during that time (a part of the story the movie just skips over). Since he fought against the forces at Warzim and got swept away by the river current, Aragorn wakes up looking for his horse, whom he recognizes as "Brego." This is super weird, because no horse named Brego ever shows up in Tolkien's books, nor was he mentioned in the film until that exact moment. The explanation seems to stem from the beginning of the movie, where Aragorn meets Éomer and is given two horses—Arod and Hasufel. It looks like this horse is actually Arod—it seems Aragorn, for reasons known only to him, translated the horse's name from the Rohirrim language into Elvish (both Arod and Brego mean "swift"). Honestly, why he expected a horse to recognize its own name in a different language is a total mystery. Another interesting change here is that Aragorn has a different horse—in the book, Legolas and Gimli ride Arod, while Aragorn takes Hasufel. This might just be for practical reasons—Hasufel means "gray mantle," but the horse in these scenes is dark. The whole concept that Théoden is somehow possessed by 'Saruman' and needs to be 'exorcised' by Gandalf is purely a filmmaker's invention. In the book, there isn't any magic involved in this at all—just the whispers (and potentially toxic influence) of Gríma Wormtongue. It makes sense that the film had to simplify and condense the geography of Rohan. In the original, the people of Edoras aren't sent to Helm's Deep because of the danger; instead, they are led by Éowyn to a much closer and more suitable refuge at Dunharrow, in the mountains south of the capital. Only the King and his soldiers ride out to war (and, truth be told, they didn't even want to go to Helm's Deep originally), but rather head out to defend the Isen River crossings.