Drinking from the Enemy’s Skull:
Pre-Battle Speeches as Expression of the Lost Referential in
Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings
MA-Thesis Film Studies (Profession-Oriented Track, Fiction)
Student Name: Lisanne van Ingen
Studentnumber: 11111895
Date: 27 June 2016
First Reader: Mr. Dr. Erik Laeven
Second Reader: Mw. Dr. Catherine Lord
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction 2
Chapter 1 – The Epic Film in Literature 5
Chapter 2 – Pre-Battle Speech: In Search of the Lost Referential 16
Chapter 3 – Enforcing the Lost Referential: Rhetoric 27
Chapter 4 – Enforcing the Lost Referential: Character 41
Chapter 5 – Enforcing the Lost Referential: Dramatic Structure 53
Conclusion 64
Appendix 67
Works Cited 70
INTRODUCTION
A film set in historical times does not necessarily depict ‘real’ history. More often than not, such a film’s script does not adhere to historical facts; nor does it have to: What the audience looks for in a historical film is “a convincing picture of life” (Woods 39). Yet, William Woods argues, the authenticity the audience think they are looking for is often a false one (39). In many cases, films depict a world the general public believes is realistic but which does not necessarily corresponds to historical reality. In addition, Woods suggest, “[w]ould we recognize real medieval [or any other historical period’s] life if we saw it?” (39).
If historical films do not necessarily depict history in any accurate way, the question of what the audience is actually witnessing on the screen is raised. According to the renowned Spanish author Cervantes, the modern depiction of past times is merely the result of the contemporary imagination of that past (Cervantes in Woods 39). Woods continues Cervantes’ line of thoughts by claiming that during the development of a historical film, “modern notions, emotions, and sensibilities are projected backwards into the past” (Woods 39). In other words, a historical film will reveal as much (and maybe even more) about the time it was made in as the time it tries to represent.
Today’s cinematic landscape portrays an increased number of epic films that are set in ancient times and can therefore be regarded as subgenre of the historical film. Assuming that Cervantes and Woods were correct in their claims, these films are in fact a reflection of the way in which the present society imagines the past: A ‘modern notion’ has been bestowed upon these films. But rather than this modern notion being a contemporary dream vision of the past, Susan Aronstein, in her “Revisiting the Round Table”, suggests that the historical film is actually an allegorical representation of the current era (161). This interpretation of the modern notion endowed upon the historical film proves rather interesting when combined with particular insights offered by Jean Baudrillard.
Violence, bloodshed, and murder that can be justified by honest and unimpaired beliefs or ideologies are what the modern audience is looking for in epic films. According to Baudrillard, in his History: A
Retro Scenario, this ideologically justified “violence of history” has been chased from the present
level”; as a result, these practises are resurrected in cinema (189). The sustainable credos which motivate violence, pro-active politics, sieges, beheadings, and revolutions in contemporary society is what Baudrillard calls “the lost referential” of the twenty-first century (190). It is the lost referential the modern audience wishes to find in the cinematic adaptations of ancient histories.
The concept of the lost referential is abstract: It does not assume a fixed form, which may cause filmmakers some difficulty as they try to incorporate the lost referential in their films: Films deals in percepts (Leitch 156). “[T]he moving comes to us through perception” (Bluestone in Leitch 156). In other words, film is about seeing and hearing and relies on iconic rather than indexical markers for its apprehension. The abstract concept of the lost referential needs to be given a concrete shape for it to be expressible in film.
Literature on how the lost referential can be most effectively expressed in film is scarce (if not none-existent). Yet, insights into this matter can prove a great tool for filmmakers who wish to heed the audience’s needs and desires. By living up to the audience’s expectations of good filmmaking, the chances of creating a box-office hit will increase significantly. This thesis will argue that one effective concrete expression of the lost referential in epic film is the pre-battle speech: Pre-battle speeches appear to possess three inherent characteristics – use of rhetoric, identity of the heralding character, and position within the overall dramatic structure – which make the pre-battle speech particularly suitable as effective embodiment of the lost referential, offering modern filmmakers a tool to appease to appease their audience and make successful films.
Each of the three inherent characteristics of the pre-battle speech which can be employed to the effective expression of the lost referential shall be examined and discussed in separate chapters in order to clarify how and to what extent that particular element can contribute to the pre-battle speech as ideal embodiment of the lost referential. With respect to the pre-battle speech’s use of rhetoric, Aristotle’s ideas as expressed in his Rhetoric shall serve as main point of reference due to their enormous influence on the development of the art of rhetoric worldwide. Burroway, Stuckey-French and Stuckey-French’s and Croft’s theories on the humanity of the protagonist and his rejection of love and democracy respectively will form the foundation of the argument made in the chapter on character; Campbell and
Vogler’s works on dramatic structure combined with Grodal’s theory on the connection between pain and realism will feature in the chapter on the pre-battle speech’s timing in the overall structure. As this thesis is concerned with the cultural phenomenon of the pre-battle speech and an interpretation of its various elements in epic film rather than a natural or social science, no data or other forms of definitive proofs can be cited for the sake of the sustainability of the claims made in this thesis: After all, the humaneness of a filmic element cannot be captured accurately by impersonal means. Therefore, instead of analysing statistics and figures, theories of both ancient and modern scholars shall be discussed and critically analysed. The interpretations drawn from these works shall consequently be applied to a case study in order to clarify and enforce the claims that are made.
The case study that shall serve as point of reference throughout this thesis is Peter Jackson’s film trilogy based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s namesake masterpiece: The Lord of the Rings. The choice for Jackson’s adaptations as a case-study can in part be explained by the personal preferences of the author of this thesis: The vastness of the world both Tolkien and Jackson created on page and screen respectively is (for me, that is) indicative of the extraordinary craftsmanship of both artists: The worlds they create are thus carefully constructed than even the most absurd creatures – talking trees, deteriorated hobbits, and hobbits in their own right, for example – appear authentic. In addition, the narrative’s many references to Anglo-Saxon times makes The Lord of the Rings even more interesting for me considering my (undergraduate) academic specialization in Anglo-Saxon literature and culture. A second motivation for choosing Jackson’s work as case study is that the The Lord of the Rings films have proved themselves to be highly popular in society: All three episodes feature in the top fifty of the highest grossing film that were ever made. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) appeared the most popular film of the three with a worldwide gross of over a billion dollars (Boxofficemojo.com). It is thus safe to conclude that the audience strongly appreciated Jackson’s films. In accordance with Baudrillard’s theory, this success could be explained by the films’ effective expression of the lost referential. It would therefore be plausible to assume that pre-battle speeches as featured in these films are accurately employed as concrete embodiments of the lost referential.
CHAPTER 1 – THE EPIC FILM IN LITERATURE
The aim of this chapter is to provide an overview of the literature that has yet been written about the epic (in film) and to position Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings within the literary field in order to contextualize the content of this thesis. The first three sections of this chapter will discuss topics that have proven popular amongst scholars of epic film. The ensuing section will discuss the sudden surge of literature on the epic film in the 00s so as to define the current discussion on epic film; the final section will focus on literature written focus on the position of The Lord of the Rings within the academic discussion of the epic film.
1.1 Defining the Epic
The roots of the English adjective ‘epic’ tap into the Greek language as it was spoken by the people living in Greece from the ninth to the fourth century B.C. In Ancient Greece, ἔπος (épos) was literally translated as ‘word’ or ‘story’ but was primarily associated with the grand form and style in which narrative poems like the Iliad and the Odyssey were written. As George Puttenham used ‘epick’ to describe those poets that dealt with great tales as opposed to those that were concerned with the ‘real’ world in his Arte English Poesie (1589), it seems safe to assume that the meaning of ‘epic’ in sixteenth-century England largely corresponded to the Ancient Greek definition (“epic”, OED).
At present, however, the use of the adjective ‘epic’ is far more unstable and has been subjected to considerable change. In today’s society, ‘epic’ can still be used in the manner of Puttenham; yet, it can also be used as a relatively meaningless cat phrase, as in the sentence ‘that was an epic piece of pie’. Especially the combination of the adjective with the noun ‘fail’ proves highly appealing in popular language and indicates an extremely unsuccessful attempt at something (“epic”, Urbandictionary.com). The adoption of ‘epic’ as adjective into popular language is also supported by the Oxford English Dictionary, which ranks ‘epic’ a frequency band that borders on ‘everyday language’; in Ancient Greece, the adjective was exclusive to the speech of learned scholars (“epic” OED).
As ‘epic’ in today’s society is used by an increased number of people, it is only a logical result that its application is also subjected to a greater variety of uses. It can therefore be no surprise that scholars
of film too have attributed different meanings to the term; confusion about what ‘epic’ exactly means when combined to ‘film’ or ‘cinema’ in particular becomes unavoidable. A great number of renowned film scholars that have taken an interest in epic tales (Santas, Elliot, Bakhtin, and Burgoyne, for example) acknowledge this confusion by making claims as to what they believe ought to be understood by ‘epic film’. The resulting definitions, as might have been guessed, show a variety of subtle – and sometimes not so subtle – differences. Yet, all authors have opted for Aristotle’s Poetics as their starting point.
Aristotle’s Poetics is the oldest theoretical work on dramatic literature. In this work, Aristotle mentions several characteristics which he believes are indispensable to epic drama. One of these characteristics is the effect epic drama ought to have upon the audience: After experiencing an epic play or performed poem, the spectator should feel purified of negative emotions; this process is called
catharsis in Ancient Greek. In addition, the characters of epic tales ought to be “good”, “appropriate”,
“realistic”, and “consistent”; the plot should contain a discovery, complications, and moments of relaxation. Finally, the overall form of the tale should be presented in hexametrical verse (Aristotle Book III, Part I).
Even though modern scholars of epic film acknowledge and respect Aristotle’s contribution to the discussion on epic narrative, they all allow for the Greek scholar’s definition to be adjusted. As Andrew Elliot argues, these adjustments are necessary for the epic genre to survive; if changes would not have been made to Aristotle’s original definition, the epic genre would have extinguished together with the use of hexametrical verse as the common mode of artistic expression. Famous epic tales such as Milton’s Paradise Lost and J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings would not have been able to be considered as belonging to the genre simply because they were written in English blank verse; in addition, contemporary scholars would never get to debate over the definition of epic film.
As Charles Darwin argued with respect to all living species, adjustment is crucial for survival. The amendments film scholars have made to Aristotle’s definition vary enormously both in nature and severity. Constantine Santas in his The Epic Film: From Myth to Blockbuster, quite probably provided the least restricting modern definition of ‘epic’. According to Santas an epic can be
[a]ny venture of large proportions a war, a trek, an exploration, a social struggle, a lengthy football game that went in the overtime, an election campaign of unusual length – all of these endeavours associated with size, lengthy, complexity, and heroic action. (1)
This definition allows for a considerable number of films to qualify as epics. The Titanic (Cameron, 1997), for example, or Saving Private Ryan (Spielberg, 1998) can be regarded as samples of epic cinema even though their connection to ‘traditional’ epic tales is not obvious.
Even though Santas considers it acceptable for obviously modern tales to be considered epic, this opinion is not shared by all. Mikhail Bakhtin is his “Epic and Novel” vows for “absolute epic distance” when defining epic tales (13):
To portray an event on the same time-and-value plane as oneself and one’s contemporaries (and an event that is therefore based on personal experience and thought) is to undertake a radical revolution, and to step out of the world of epic into the world of the novel. (14)
Not including this sense of absolute distance between the epic and contemporary world, Bakhtin argues, creates tales that are personal experiences rather than epic tales, for proper epic narrative incorporate a “national epic past” or a “national tradition” which are inherently impersonal (13). The exclusion of the personal from the definition of the epic would exclude the two films mentioned in the previous paragraph that were considered epic by Santas. However, Bakhtin’s ideas about epic film are not as restrictive as to exclude productions such as Star Wars from the epic genre: Bakhtin’s ‘epic distance’ of the diegetic world of the film with the non-diegetic world does not specify whether the diegetic world is completely fictional or not.
Bakhtin’s notion of epic distance has narrowed down the definition of ‘epic film’ a suggested by Santas. But even though a great number of films are now excluded from the epic genre, there are yet other scholars that restrict its application even further. Gary Smith, for example, argues that the generic label of ‘epic film’ ought to be applied only to those films that are set in Ancient times. ‘Ancient times’ can be defined as the period of time between the moment of Creation up to the thirteenth century (Smith
in Paul 15). The connection between epic film and a particular moment in history has led scholars other than Smith to consider the epic film to be a subcategory of the broad genre of the historical film (Burgoyne in Paul 15). Yet, by including temporal borders in world history in the definition of epic film, the number of films that can be classified as belonging to this genre is narrowed down even further: Now, the Stars Wars films can no longer be considered epic, as are all other epic tales set in a fantastical world.
But temporal issues are not the only aspects scholars are concerned with in their discussion of epic film: Santas, for example, did not merely comment upon the scale of the epic narrative; he also made claims about the “mythic dimensions” of epic films. According to Santas, “epics can be seen as an embodiment of aspirations, hopes, fears and other collective emotions and feelings” which are “traditionally framed as an expression of national emergence and national consciousness.” (1). Santas here makes a similar argument as Bakhtin as he claims that nation-building belongs to epic stories. Paul Sturtevant seconds this perspective by claiming that the purpose of the epic is to “inspire collective compassion within its viewers” (Sturtevant 112).
The epic film, in short, depicts a grand course of action which can be set in Ancient times or any other time according the scholar’s preferences; apart from scope and setting, the epic film is characterized by a significant degree of (national) unity.
Despite the differences of opinion scholars have whereas he definition of epic film is concerned, for the sake of clarity, one will be selected for the remainder of this thesis. In order to maintain a sufficient sample of epic films to draw upon whilst illustrating the argument that will be made in this thesis which is yet manageable, the definition that will be employed constitutes a safe middle way of all the suggestions offered above. This thesis will understand epic film to consist of a narrative of large proportions that is absolutely distanced from the contemporary world and that stimulates a sense of unity and nationalism.
1.2 Structure and Aesthetics of Epic Film
Closely connected to the debate of how the epic film ought to be defined is the discussion of what the epic film looks like and how it is structured. The link between these two questions relates to the
age-old causality dilemma of the chicken and the egg: Which came first? With respect to epic film, one could argue, on the one hand, that the aesthetics and structure of the earliest epic narratives established the genre in the first place; on the other hand, one could claim the definition of the epic genre now functions as an entry requirement for a film to be ‘admitted’ to the genre. This, however, is not a discussion many film scholars take interest in; rather, they prefer to describe and discuss the epic film’s structure and aesthetic elements, which has proved a much more fruitful quest.
Whereas the epic’s structure is concerned, Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces appears to be the most renowned work of reference. In his book, Campbell presents the research a most extensive research into the structure of mythological tales from different areas and eras and argues that each of these stories has been structured on the same model: the monomyth, which is described as follows:
A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man. (Campbell 23)
Myths do not equal epic tales per se: Mythologies deal with national histories, like the epic tale. However, myths can also be concerned with personal matters, which – as has been argued by Bakhtin – can never accord with the epic. As a consequence, the structure of the myth can be applied to the epic, but whatever can be said of the epic does not necessarily hold true for all myths.
Campbell’s ideas about structure were not invented with the medium of film in mind; yet, many filmmakers have taken learning from Campbell’s work. For example, George Lucas is said to have based the structure of Star Wars on the monomyth. Because so many writers and directors of film appears to benefit from Campbell’s work, Christopher Vogler decided to adapt the monomyth so that it could be more readily applied to the medium of film. Initially a seven page memo, Vogler’s adaptation developed into a fully-fledged book – The Writer’s Journey – which became a bestseller itself. Campbell and Vogler are the eminent authorities with respect to the structure of the epic; whereas the aesthetics of the genre are concerned, a much larger group of scholars have demonstrated their
wisdom. Robert Burgoyne, for example, explored the use of colour-patterns in epic film and concluded that colour can be used to evoke a sense of patriotism due to a tribe or nation’s association with a particular colour. But, colour in epic film can “asserts itself . . . as a primary strategy for rendering character, articulating plot, and ultimately, for linking the historical past with ongoing critical and ethical issues in the present” (180). Magerstädt, in her Philosophy, Myth and Epic Cinema, researched what type of shots could be used to establish a sense of grandness in film. She concluded that the ‘signature epic shot’ ought to be the panning long shot: This type of shot perfectly depicts the grand and majestic landscapes that often comprise the set of epic film. In The Lord of the Rings, for example, the panning long shot is used to portray the beautiful nature of New Zealand that is cast as Middle Earth (31-55).
In discussing the different aesthetics of the epic film, the majority of researchers have limited their case study to a select group of films, which includes Gladiator (Scott, 2000), 300 (Snyder, 2006),
Spartacus (Kubrick, 1960), Kingdom of Heaven (Scott, 2005), King Arthur (Fuqua, 2004), and The Lord of the Rings (Jackson, 2001-2003).
1.3 Extracting Meaning
In addition to the definition of epic films, its structure, and aesthetics, interpretation – to unravel the significance of the epic film – is another field of interest for many scholars. A great number of articles, essays, and even books have been devoted to the meaning of epic films. Classics such as Gladiator (Scott 2001) have been subjected to a multitude of analyses, each taking a different ideological stance for a starting point. Unsurprisingly, the outcomes of these researches are as various as their authors. Matthew Schlimm, for example, assumes an Orientalist stance towards Scott’s masterpiece and argues that the production continues to marginalize the Islamic religion by refusing to acknowledge its values but promoting Christian ones instead. Rob Wilson, on the other hand, claims that the Ancient Roman setting in Gladiator actually represents contemporary America. According to Wilson, Gladiator is an “allegorization of the Pax Americana itself” with its “moral innocence, Euro-civilizational ratification, and soft hegemony” (62). Orientalism and nationalism are just two examples of approaches scholars can assume when evaluating the epic film, but there are many more possibilities scholars can choose
from: psychoanalysis, feminism, naturalism, economism, patriotism, fascism, and pacifism can (and have) also served as frame of reference.
Another – frequently used – mode of interpretation is what Andrew Elliot calls “presentism” (10). The approach of presentism assumes that any film set in the past will have as much to say about that past as it has about the moment in time in which it was produced (10). This approach assumes historical films to be allegories: Below the surface of the film lies a “hidden meaning” that is only available to the serious spectator (Rivers 162). According to Elliot, this secret meaning in case of the historical film is a critique of the present; rather than directly criticizing present times, the historical film offers a less confronting, and thus more easily acceptable, perspective on matters. Because the historical film is thus well-suited for critiquing the present, Elliot believes the logical course of action when analysing any historical film is to take a careful look at the socio-political contexts in which the film was made. Wilson’s approach to Gladiator may be classified under this method of interpretation as well.
1.4 The 00s and the Epic
The epic has been a field of study for many centuries, millennia even; research into the topic of the epic in film is considerably (and logically) much younger and less extensive. This observation can – in part – be explained by the simple fact that film was invented only in the late nineteenth century. However, most literature written about the epic film – including the work of Santas, Burgoyne, and Elliot – dates from the early twenty-first century: An entire decade has thus passed without scholars paying significant attention to the epic film before they suddenly do, whilst the epic film did exist previously. Andrew Elliot believes this course of event can be explained by several factors.
Elliot speaks of a “cycle” of epic films (3). He argues that the epic film, before it became popular in the 00s, was also very popular in the 1960s. The genre became gradually less popular until it was almost completely forgotten, only to be revived by Ridley Scott’s Gladiator in 2001 (1). Before one can uncover why the epic film suddenly gained in popularity again, it is worth researching why the epic film ‘died’ in the first place in the late 1960s.
Firstly, industrial factors in the 1960s led to a demise of epic cinema (Elliot 8). The production of an epic film usually required spectacular sets, such as a complete Roman forum in The Fall of the
Roman Empire (Anthony Mann, 1964). In addition, re-enacting major historical battles like the Battle
of Actium in Cleopatra (Mankiewicz, 1963) called for a great number of extras, who all needed to be fed, costumed, and instructed – that is, in the 1960s at least. These aspect of epic film are costly; as filmmakers always aimed to make their epic film bigger and better than those of their rivals the production costs of these films became thus high that it was nearly impossible to make any profit. In addition, the risks of making such an expensive films were enormous: If the film flopped, bankruptcy for the producing studio seemed inevitable. While the economy was dwindling, studios were no longer prepared to take such risks. As a result, epic films were no longer produced. Of course, with the invention of Computer Generated Imagery (CGI), which made it possible to create spectacular sets and enormous armies digitally, costs were no longer an obstacle in the production of epic films which led to an increase of epic films in the 00s.
A second possible reason for the apparent disappearance of epic cinema in the 1960s is provided by Russell and Aknin, Russell and Aknin suggests the cycle of the epic film is, in fact, a cycle of generations: “as the baby boomers reached maturity, broader democratic shifts … seem to have contributed to a popular belief that the historical epic was once more a relevant form of cinematic expression” (Russell and Aknin qtd in Elliott 10). What Russell and Aknin appear to claim is that the filmmakers that watched epic films as a child in the 1960s needed to mature in order to understand the value of epic narratives for the community they lived in. These filmmakers reached this maturity in the 00s.
The third and last argument for the return of the epic is more complicated; it ties in with Elliot’s theory of presentism. Elliot argues that the epic film can use the past as a way of “talking about, pointing to, parodying or rejecting the present” (10). Ken Gelder in his essay “Epic Fantasy and Global Terrorism”, for example, argues that Jackson’s film trilogy can be read as an allegory for America’s war on terrorism in which the United States are represented by the Shire and its Hobbits and Osama Bin Laden by the evil Sauron (5). Epic films can thus be employed to react to the present. It appears that at the turn on the millennium, the epic film was especially suited to this task: The question that now demands answering is that of ‘why’. According to Jean Baudrillard, the answer is simple. Baudrillard, in his History: A Retro Scenario, claims that history has invaded the cinemas, resulting in a surge of
historical dramas and epics (189). The reason for history’s sudden dominance of film is its ‘expulsion’ from real life by a “sort of immense neutralization which is dubbed peaceful coexistence on a global level, and pacified monotony on the quotidian level” (189). History – and its violence, thus, is chased from contemporary society and has found refuge in film:
The great event of this period, the great trauma, is this decline of strong referentials, these death pangs of the real and of the rational past that open onto an age of simulation. Whereas so many generations and particularly the last, lived in the march of history, in the euphoric or catastrophic expectation of a revolution – today one has the impression that history has
retreated, leaving behind it an indifferent nebula, traversed by currents, but emptied of references. (190)
What Baudrillard appears to argue is that the historical film, including the epic, is an expression of nostalgia for the time in which there was yet a referential – a time in which words still had meaning and acts still had significance.
1.5 The Lord of the Rings: Filmic Trilogy in Literature
Even though the narrative of The Lord of the Rings certainly qualifies as epic tale according to the definition provided in an earlier section of this chapter, with respect to academic discussion, both Tolkien’s and Jackson’s versions of the story are first and foremost associated with the genre of fantasy. When compared to other genres, little has been written about the fantasy genre in film. The reason for this lack of literature of this kind of film is that, for a long time, fantasy films were considered to be inferior to other, more realistic (and thus presumably more serious) genres such as film noir, the thriller, or even the Western. Scholars of film believed that fantasy’s lack of correspondence to the ‘real’ world disqualified the fantasy film as carrier of important insights or messages. In addition, in the 1920s, the fantasy genre proved very popular amongst the masses; therefore, the elitists writing about film did not believe it worthy of their attention (Fowkes 20). This approach toward the fantasy genre continued to dominate studies of film, resulting in a limited amount of literature about the fantasy genre.
Tides changed for the fantasy film in 1968, the year in which Stanley Kubrick produced his 2001: A
Space Odyssey. 2001: A Space Odyssey is not necessarily a fantasy film but is instead often qualified
as a sample of science-fiction. However, because science-fiction is often associated with fantasy (as is horror) due to their narrative’s reliance on the unreal, the impact of 2001: A Space Odyssey resonated in the field of fantasy film. According to Katherine Fowkes, Kubrick’s ground-breaking film was the first film belonging to an ‘unrealistic’ genre that offered a “serious philosophical approach” with respect to travel through space. Apparently, unreal narratives could carry important insights and messages and were indeed worthy of further study. The release of 2001: A Space Odyssey was, consequently, followed by an increase in literature about both the science-fiction as well as the fantasy genre. However, Fowkes claims, the fantasy genre in itself gained optimal prestige only through the release of Peter Jackson’s film adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. The Lord of the Rings offered a “coherent, meaningful vision” of life which had not been equalled by any type of fantasy story since the mythologies of Ancient Times (134). Now that the fantasy genre had unquestionably proved itself as a serious genre, literature written about the fantasy film surged.
As The Lord of the Rings was to instigator of the fantasy genre to be taken seriously by film scholars, it is no surprise that Jackson’s trilogy often serves as case study in fantasy film discussions. The discussions having The Lord of the Rings as their topic can be roughly divided into two categories: aesthetic analyses and interpretative readings.
Compared to the number of interpretative readings, the aesthetic analyses of The Lord of the Rings are not as readily available. However, this relative deficiency of literature about the films’ perceivable features is not unique to Jackson’s films: It reflects a general trend in film studies in which scholars tend to focus on cultural aspects of film, such as gender and race. But even though less is written about aesthetics, the research that has been executed has resulted in some interesting outcomes. Tom Shippey, for example, who is one of the leading scholars on the work of Tolkien, has explored the ways in which the book has been adapted for the screen. In doing so, Shippey elaborated on the differences and similarities between the media of literature and film. Another interesting topic of study has proved Howard Shore’s much applauded soundtrack to the trilogy. Doug Adams in a scene-by-scene analysis examined the scores and leitmotifs in detail and showed that music in The Lord of the Rings does more
than support the images it accompanies; rather, it can be treated as a character in itself. Research into the use of CGI has also been shown to be of great value with respect to The Lord of the Rings as the films rely heavily on digital effects for the creation of Middle Earth; Sean Cubitt explored to what degree the use of CGI has influenced the sense of realism that is evoked in the spectator.
The noted research above is merely a sampling of the various topics that has been addressed by scholars where the The Lord of the Rings’ aesthetics are concerned. However, even more examples can be given of studies that are concerned with the interpretation of the three films. The majority of these readings depart from stances found in cultural studies and therefore tend to focus on contemporary cultural contexts and their historical developments. For example, Janet Croft discusses the character of Aragorn and claims his personality has been changed in the process of adapting the book for the screen as to make him conform to the American definition of a hero; Jackson’s film trilogy has also been explained as an expression of Catholicism (Garbowski), an exclamation of racism that is nevertheless justifiable in the light of the economic-structural conditions in which the films were made (Sue), a celebration of a male-dominated society (McKenna), and a celebration of the pastoral genre which attributes a crucial role to the preservation of nature (Wilson). Needless to say, these examples constitute only a tiny part of all interpretations available.
This thesis will discuss various aspects of the pre-battle speeches found in Jackson’s adaptation of Tolkien’s famous epic tale. Therefore, a major part of this thesis constitutes an aesthetic analysis; yet, because the cultural context of film will also be looked into, it can also be considered to provide an interpretative reading.
CHAPTER 2 – PRE-BATTLE SPEECH: IN SEARCH OF THE LOST REFERENTIAL
2.1 Defining Battle Speech in Film
Epic films generally contain at least one – but often more – battle that bear significant impact on the course of the plot. In many epic films – 300 (Sneyder, 2006), The Lord of the Rings (Jackson, 2001-2003), Troy (Peterson, 2004), King Arthur (Fuqua, 2004), for example – enormous armies attack one another. Before the invention of CGI, these scenes were very costly and technically difficult to produce; when Peter Jackson and his crew invented a “new special-effects technology … for creating realistic crowd-scenes” (the Massive program), creating authentic fights between huge numbers of warriors became much more doable (Fowkes 137). As a result, some films that were produced after the invention of Jackson’s special program have been accused of creating massive battle scenes merely to show off their technical potential rather than adding anything significant to the plot. 300’s many battle scenes, for example, were called “visually arresting” but yet with little meaning (McCarthy).
However, disregarding the motivation behind any battle scene in the epic film, these fights are frequently preceded by speeches that are delivered by either the protagonist of the film or another character. Braveheart (Gibson, 1995), for example, is well-known for Wallace’s speech before the Scotsman plunge into battle with the English. In this speech, Wallace urges his compatriots to be prepared to sacrifice their lives as to reclaim their freedom from the enemy:
WALLACE
Aye, fight and you may die. Run and you'll live -- at least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this
day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives,
but they'll never take our freedom! (1:18:00-1:18:34)
Braveheart is an epic film pur sang – considered epic according to any applied definition of the genre
obviously epic contain these speeches: In Armageddon (Bay, 1998) the president of the United States (a minor character in the film) delivers a speech prior to the departure of astronaut squad that is to ‘defeat’ the asteroid that threatens to destroy the planet Earth.
PRESIDENT
Through all the chaos that is our history, through all of our times, there is one thing that has… elevated our
species above its origins. And that is our courage. Dreams of an entire planet are focused tonight… on those
14 brave souls… traveling into the heavens. And may we all, citizens the world over, see these events through.
God speed and good luck to you. (1:04:37-1:04:52)
It appears, thus, that epic films, whether they be ‘traditionally’ epic or not, characteristically contain pre-battle speeches. This observation leads to the assumption that the pre-battle speech is characteristic of the epic film. It must be noted, however, that the observation does not allow one to conclude that pre-battle speech are exclusively typical of the epic films; other types of films can still appeal to this element as well.
Yet, even though the pre-battle speech appears to be a common element in the epic film, scholars have – to this day – failed to provide an accurate definition and description of this phenomenon: No literature exist which provides its reader with a clear overview of what types of discourse qualifies as pre-battle speech.
Fortunately, speeches given before the commencement of battle in real life have been subjected to academic research. The on-screen pre-battle speech finds its historical equivalent both in ancient as well as modern times: Even though his actual speeches are now lost, Roman emperor Julius Caesar has been famed by his contemporary Cicero, who referred to his speeches as “honourable testimony” (Cicero in Brutus 254). Caesar lived in the first century prior to Christ’s birth; his troops consisted of brave men carrying shields and spears, with which they pierced their enemy. Yet, men carrying leather boots and automatic guns living almost two millennia later have been addressed in a similar fashion. These more
recent pre-battle speeches have been preserved and could therefore be included in the modern scholarly debate on what constitutes pre-battle speech.
An important figure in this debate in Richard Miller. In his In Words and Deeds, Miller defines the concept of the pre-battle speech and applies his theory on a great number of speech from various sources. According to Miller’s definition, pre-battle speech
consists of the words, deed, or words coupled with deeds whose purpose in to recruit, instruct, or exhort soldiers for battle … [they] prepare soldiers either to fight or to endure, to bond with comrades or commanders, or to seal their identification with their unit, country, tribe, or faith. (3)
In addition to the above, battle speeches in real life can be issued by anyone – both militant and civilians alike. However, the audience of the speeches must always consist of soldiers (Miller 3). Thus, for example, Winston Churchill’s Master of our Fate speech (which he delivered to the American congress shortly following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour in 1941), in which he urged the American congress to unite with Britain in the fight against fascism, cannot be considered a proper battle speech simply because the audience was made up from American politicians and not soldiers.
According to Miller, ‘general’ battle speech can be subdivided into several categories, depending upon the timing of the speech. A distinction can be made between speeches given shortly before an invasion by the enemy or a big battle, but also between discourse following surrender or victory (9). However, as the focus of this thesis will be primarily on speeches given before battle, only Miller’s ideas on the pre-battle speech will be taken into consideration. On the subject of pre-battle speeches, Miller notes that these are speeches immediately preceding a battle of significance; pre-battle speech can serve to declare the speaker’s confidence in his men, it can be used to diminish the enemy or to remind those who are fighting of the values that are at stake. It is also the moment on which rewards are promised to the victors (Miller 189-209).
Miller’s ideas about the concept of the pre-battle speech are based on actual speeches, not on fictional ones. Miller’s speeches have been composed, spoken, and received by real people on the occasion of
real battles. It remains to be seen whether Miller’s definition is suited to be applied to a work of fiction such as The Lord of the Rings.
Yet, David Saol, in his essay “Heroism and Alienation Through Language in The Lord of the Rings”, argues that the narrative’s world is “firmly rooted in the history of our own world through countless allusions, both overt and covert” (23). Brian Bates in his The Real Middle Earth provides a great variety of examples illustrating the connection between Middle Earth and the non-fictional world: In his discussion of magical creatures, Bates refers to an Anglo-Saxon manuscript, Lacnunga, in which he has found Old English beliefs about spiders that had turned into monsters:
Here a spider-creature came stalking in. He had his bridle-web in his hand. He said that you were his steeds,
He laid his bonds on your neck. (Unknown in Bates 232)
The description of the spider as monster creature strongly reminds of the sequence in The Lord of the
Rings: The Two Towers in which Frodo is stung by the giant spider Shelob before she wraps him up
completely in her cobwebs.
The Lord of the Rings is thus shaped in such a way as to resemble the history of the real world. In addition, Middle Earth is not only made to resemble the appearance of the real world, it also functions according to the rules of this world:
The actual manifestation in our world of fantastic elements such as magic, non-human intelligences, and power of a superhuman scale would reshape history in such a way as to make it unrecognizable, marking the end of history as we know it … a fantasist I therefore obliged to create a credible simulacrum of a real history so consistent in itself that anomalous details can be detected and deemed inauthentic. (24)
2.2 Pre-Battle Speeches in The Lord of the Rings
Those who have read the entire novel by Tolkien will know that the author devoted far less attention to war- and battle scenes than might be guessed from Peter Jackson’s adaptation of the story. In the third part of the novel as well as the film trilogy – The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King – Aragorn and other members of the former Fellowship of the Ring defend the city of Minas Tirith against a great force of Orcs send by Sauron in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. In the novel, the actual battle is described in approximately five pages of the entire third volume, which counts 372 pages in itself. In mathematic terms, the Battle of the Pelennor Fields engages 1.3 percent of the total space in the volume. In Peter Jackson’s adaptation the battle lasts a little over sixteen minutes (16:02; counting from the moment King Théoden arrives at the battle scene until Aragorn delivers a final blow). This duration constitutes 8.3 per cent of the total screen time of the third episode of the trilogy. The filmic adaptation of the battle is thus over five hundred per cent longer than the original battle as described by Tolkien. Part of this ‘added’ time is devoted to the performance of pre-battle speeches.
When applying Miller’s definition of what discourse qualifies as a pre-battle speech, the The Lord
of the Rings trilogy as told by Peter Jackson counts no less than twelve pre-battle speeches (see the
appendix; the appendix also included the time codes of the speeches). These speeches vary in length (although they are never longer than a handful of sentences), content, and speaker but are all proper battle speeches nonetheless. Probably the most well-known of these speeches is Aragorn’s speech preceding the ultimate battle against Sauron in the War of the Ring: The army of the West was led by Aragorn to the Black Gate of Mordor in an attempt to distract Sauron from Frodo and Sam, who had proceeded to the final stage of the destruction of the One Ring. Before swords are clashed, Aragorn addresses the mighty force of the West one more time:
ARAGORN
Hold your ground! Hold your ground! Sons of Gondor... of Rohan... my brothers! I see in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship... but it
is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered
shields when the age of Men comes crashing down... but it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear, on this good earth, I bid you STAND, MEN OF THE WEST!
Being delivered just before the film’s climatic fight and addressed exclusively to the soldiers that are about to do battle, this motivational and confidence-inspiring speech by Aragorn can be considered a proper pre-battle speech.
This speech is relatively long. Filmic pre-battle speeches need not be longer than a sentence, or even a phrase:
ARAGORN For Frodo.
This ‘speech’ can still be considered actual pre-battle discourse, despite its short length: The speech (again by Aragorn) is addressed to Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, and Pippin, who are all about to put their warrior-skills to the test; the speech reminds the warriors of the reason they are fighting and serves as a motivation in the ensuing battle.
The above speeches are uttered by Aragorn, who fights to destroy the One Ring and save the race of Men. But wherever there is a battle, there will always be at least one opposing party. Pre-battle speeches, therefore, can not only be heralded by the ‘good’ side, but also by the enemy. In The Lord of the Rings, the ultimate antagonistic force is Sauron, which is rather interesting: Sauron, or The Dark Lord, was the former right hand of the first tyrant of Middle Earth: Morgoth. After Morgoth’s fall, Sauron deteriorated into the most evil being that could possibly exist; as a consequence, he lost his human form: All that now remains from Sauron is his Eye. Apart from his ability to penetrate the minds of other, Sauron has no mouth with which he can communicate: The ultimate enemy in The Lord of the Rings is, thus, mute and is, therefore, not able to produce any type of actual speech at all. Being unable to speak, Sauron needs a substitute who can do the talking for him. This role of spokesman is fulfilled by Saruman: It is he who motivates and steers Sauron’s troops into battle:
SARUMAN
A new power is rising... its victory is at hand! This night, the land will be stained with the blood of Rohan!
March to Helm's Deep! Leave none alive! TO WAR!
The speeches discussed so far indicated a variation in length and speaker; yet, in all cases, the speaker – whether good or evil – was human. However, as The Lord of the Rings is (despite its association with the real world) ultimately a fantastical tale beings other than humans too possess the ability to speak, which qualifies them as possible performers of pre-battle speeches. Indeed, many a speech in The Lord
of the Rings is delivered by a non-human creature. Treebeard, for example, who is an Ent (an imaginary
race resembling giant tree) addresses Merry and Pippin in militant style as the Ents decide to mingle themselves in the War of the Ring.
TREEBEARD
Come, my friends. The Ents are going to war. It is likely... that we go to our doom. Last march of the Ents!
Apart from Treebeard, wizards also perform several pre-battle speeches. Miller’s remark that this type of speech can be uttered by anyone, thus, can be taken rather literally.
2.3 The Lord of the Rings and the Lost Referential
Baudrillard claimed that modern audiences feel attracted to epic film because this type of film displays the ‘referential’ that is lacking in contemporary society. These referential should be understood as the wholesome ideologies which motivate ‘exciting’ events such as revolutions, battles, and other acts of violence. In other words, what Baudrillard appears to imply is that the present age is one of relatively peaceful but excruciatingly dull concession in which the true meaning of existence has been repressed. As a result, a world still containing this true meaning, this referential, is recreated on screen in order to satisfy our need of it. The lost referential of life can probably be expressed through various elements of
epic film; yet, pre-battle speeches – as will be illustrated in this thesis – appear to be a means par
excellence to fulfil this function.
If the lost referential are, in fact, uncompromised ideologies, pre-battle speeches in The Lord of the
Rings are indicative of the foundations of these ideologies. In The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
One of the ideologies displayed in the film trilogy can be detracted from Saruman’s speech to the Wild Men of Dunland. In this speech, Saruman presents the Wild Men with ample justification to destroy the residence of the inhabitants of the lands of Rohan:
SARUMAN
The Horsemen took your lands! They drove your people into the hills to scratch a living off rocks! Take back the
lands they stole from you. Burn every village!
In his speech, Saruman refers to a past event in which the Riders of Rohan drove the afore-mentioned Wild Men out of their homes and unto the hills, where they had survive living in shacks made from animal skin and were constantly attacked by evil creatures. Saruman cleverly uses the violent history of the Wild Men to his advantage as he promises them to support them reclaim their rights. The Men of Duneland agree to fight side by side with Saruman’s Uruk-Hai (another fantastical race in Middle Earth) to make their final stand in their defence against the tyranny of Rohan.
The ideology permeating Saruman’s speech seems to be based on the opinion that one should get whatever he believes is entitled to and rid themselves of those that disagree: The Wild Men believe themselves justified to commit murder and destruction so they can get what they deem is their rightful property. However, this is not the ideology Saruman truly believes in, for when Sauron will rule all of Middle Earth, the Wild Men of Duneland will have to bow to his will.
In a world in which all people had adopted the same ideology, wars would be scarce. Within the boundaries of a country, a province, or even a village, a variety of ideologies is likely to prevail. This is also true for Middle Earth: The ideology that appealed to the Wild Men is only one (minor) example of the ideologies that are heeded in Middle Earth. A contrasting ideology from the one already
mentioned can be discerned in the speech Aragorn directed to the Men of the West mentioned in the previous paragraph.
In order to fully understand Aragorn’s ideology as expressed in his pre-battle speech, a brief overview of Middle Earth is required. This overview is provided by J.R.R. Tolkien himself, who wrote several mythopoeic works of Middle Earth that were later combined into a book: The Silmarillion. In this book, it can be read how the Earth, or Arda, was originally created to sustain the race of Men and Elves. The Valar (god-like creatures) shaped two continents: one for Men and one for Elves. The continent that was designed for the race of Men was called Middle Earth.
In the First Age after creation, it were the Elves that dominated Arda; even Middle Earth was part of their domain. The Elves were the first to ‘awake’ and therefore had a head start over the other races, including those of Men and also Dwarves. At the onset of the Second Age, many Elves decided to leave Middle Earth and journey to Aman, where the Valar lived. As a result, the race of Men could assume a more dominant position in Middle Earth. This Second Age includes the rise of Sauron and his destruction by Isildur, Aragorn’s ancestor. The Third Age sets the stage for the story of The Lord of the
Rings and the War of the Ring. Sauron has recovered his strength and wants to get hold of the ring yet
again. The Elves appear to take increasingly less interest in Middle Earth as they continue leaving for Aman; it is generally believed that the race of Men is now supposed to exhort dominance over Middle Earth: The Age of Men has come.
The general idea and ideal that the time for Men to reign Middle Earth has come provides the context in which Aragorn’s speech ought to be placed; Aragorn’s expressed ideology is further developed during another speech: his coronation speech. This speech does not precede any battle but is given as a result of a happy occasion; yet, it strongly contributes to a more considerate description of before-mentioned ideology:
ARAGORN
This day does not belong to one Man, but to All. Let us together rebuild this World, that we may share in the Days of Peace. (The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King,
This speech shows that Aragorn does not intent the Era of Men to be a bloody one; instead, he promotes peace and cooperation for all parties. The speech also seems to suggest that a time of peace and utter harmony is indeed possible and that evil can be driven out of Middle Earth completely.
Aragorn’s ideology is one of peaceful reign of Men over Middle Earth. This observation serves to detract what values are important for Aragorn and other supporters of this stream of thoughts. In order to reign, one cannot be repressed; so freedom will be an important value, but also the power to rule. The coronation speech reveals that freedom, peace, harmony, and equality too are respected values. The speeches overall express a strong belief in pre-destination.
Sauron, Saruman, and their subjects, obviously, adhere to a different ideology; otherwise there would be no need for the War of the Ring. They all wish to subject Men to their will; they envision the dominant race for Middle Earth to be that of the Orc:
ORC-LEADER
The Age of Men is over; the Time of the Orc has come. (The Lord of
the Rings: The Return of the King, 53:24-53:30)
And:
SARUMAN
A new power is rising... its victory is at hand! This night, the land will be stained with the blood of Rohan!
March to Helm's Deep! Leave none alive! TO WAR!
The last speech – which is by Saruman – suggests and ideology of Orc-reign, which is to be obtained through violence, war, and bloodshed. Power, control, and oppression are values that are important for this ideology. Obviously, Sauron’s ideology strongly contrasts with Aragorn’s: Conflict is therefore inevitable.
The clash of ideologies and their values which neither party wishes to compromise upon is what Baudrillard means when he talks about the lost referential of the present age: It are these elements that attract the modern audiences to the cinemas. In order to enlarge the effect of these elements upon the audience, their motivation should be expressed as effectively as possible. The next three chapters will illustrate why the pre-battle speech is very much suited for this job as several inherent characteristics of this type of discourse – rhetoric, speaker, timing – can be applied as to optimize the concrete embodiment of the lost referential in film.
CHAPTER 3 – ENFORCING THE LOST REFERENTIAL: RHETORICS
The previous chapter defined pre-battle speech as discourse addressed to warriors given shortly before the commencement of a battle. It has been claimed that the pre-battle speech is an effective way to concretize the abstract concept of the lost referential as described by Baudrillard: The pre-battle speech possesses several inherent characteristics which optimize the interpretation of the lost referential. The first of these characteristics to be discussed in this thesis is rhetoric.
3.1 The Origins and Uses of Rhetoric
Rhetoric, or the art of discourse, refers to the ways in which information can be communicated in order to persuade the receiver of said information of its truthfulness. Rhetoric thus is an inherent part of speech; the speaker determines the quality of the rhetoric. Often, rhetoric is associated with a rather negative connotation as it is frequently connected with practices of manipulation. Yet, from the Ancient Greece of Aristotle to the nineteenth century, rhetoric was a respected part of the curriculum of higher educational organisations all over Europe.
The exact definition of rhetoric is probably best described by Aristotle in his Rhetoric, a treatise on the art of persuasive discourse dating from the fourth century B.C. In this treatise, Aristotle first argues that discourse relies on two types of arguments, or proofs:
Of the modes of persuasion some belong strictly to the art of rhetoric and some do not. By the latter I mean such things as are not supplied by the writer but are there at the outset—witnesses, evidence given under torture, written contracts, and so on. By the former I mean such as we can ourselves construct by means of the principles of rhetoric. The one kind has merely to be used, the other has to be invented. (Book I, Part II)
Aristotle here distinguishes between proofs that are invented and proofs that are not. Non-invented proofs include witnesses and contracts; in the present-day world, DNA-tests and fingerprints would be categorized as non-invented proof.
Aristotle claims that non-invented proof does not actually belong to the art of rhetoric; invented proof, on the other hand, does since it “rel[ies] on the techniques used to generate the impression of conclusiveness of proof (Nichols 78). The techniques mentioned by Bill Nichols with respects to rhetoric are divided by Aristotle into three categories based on the various ways in which the proof is made to appeal to the audience:
Of the modes of persuasion furnished by the spoken word there are three kinds. The first kind depends on the personal character of the speaker; the second on putting the audience into a certain frame of mind; the third on the proof, or apparent proof, provided by the words of the speech itself. Persuasion is achieved by the speaker's personal character when the speech is so spoken as to make us think him credible. (Book I, Part II)
The modes of persuasion as described above are also described as the mode of ethos, pathos, and logos respectively. The mode of ethos thus aims to create “an impression of good moral character or credibility” of the speaker (Nichols 79); the mode of pathos appeals to the emotions experienced by the audience For example, the argument ‘you should stop feeding your children junk food; otherwise you’ll do them great harm’ is an example that appeals to pathos, to the feelings of guilt a parent may have in raising his child. The mode of logos ought to establish the impression of logical reasoning in an argument. Rhetorical ‘logic’ if often only apparent and may contain many fallacies.
The invention of arguments or proofs – either invented or non-invented – is only the first stage in the creation of a rhetorical discourse: Once the arguments have been established, they have to be arranged in a strategically valid order. An effective way of structuring a speech, Nichols argued, is to arrange the discourse in accordance with the principles of the five-act structure of classic plays advancing “proposal, perspective, or argument instead of story” (86). The arrangement of the five-act classic plays is as follows:
A catchy opening that grabs the audience’s attention
A statement of the given facts
A rejection of expected counterarguments or objections
A summary of the above and a call for action
The justification for this arrangement rather than any other can in part be explained by logic: counterarguments can simply not be rejected if the new argument (which the counterargument responds against) has not yet been offered. Another reason to choose for this structure is that the audience will be somewhat familiar with it and is therefore more likely to be able to anticipate the speech.
After the speech has been arranged properly in the second stage, style becomes a major concern in the third stage. When Aristotle mentions style in his Rhetoric, he appears no longer interested in what is being said but in how something is being said:
Style to be good must be clear, as is proved by the fact that speech which fails to convey a plain meaning will fail to do just what speech has to do. It must also be appropriate, avoiding both meanness and undue elevation; poetical language is certainly free from meanness, but it is not appropriate to prose. Clearness is secured by using the words (nouns and verbs alike) that are current and ordinary. Freedom from meanness, and positive adornment too, are secured by using the other words mentioned in the Art of Poetry. (Book III, Part II)
Good style, thus, in the first place, allows the listener to fully comprehend what is being said. ‘Positive adornment’ enables the speaker to present his message in as an appealing and persuasive way as possible, which will increase the speech’s change to ‘hit target’. Figures of speech such as the metaphor and the simile, but also diction, grammatical complexity, and sentence structure are all elements of style.
In his discussion on style, Aristotle makes a distinction between style that is appropriate for spoken discourse and written words: “The written style is the more finished: the spoken better admits of dramatic delivery-like the kind of oratory that reflects character and the kind that reflects emotion” (Aristotle; Book III, Part XII). If a distinction can be made between written and spoken language, another category should be added for the language of film. Over the years, filmmakers have developed a large variety of cinematic conventions that “have evolved over time to become something like an
overall film grammar” (Barsam & Monaham 2). As film has its own language, it will also have its own rhetorical strategies, as shall be illustrated shortly.
The fourth stage of constructing rhetorical discourse is memory, the memorization of the chosen arguments and style. With respect to speeches for film, this stage holds little relevance since the speeches can be repeated again and again until the actor gets it right.
Delivery is the fifth as last stage in the construction of rhetorical discourse; it can probably best be described as the non-verbal equivalent of style:
It is, essentially, a matter of the right management of the voice to express the various emotions-of speaking loudly, softly, or between the two; of high, low, or intermediate pitch; of the various rhythms that suit various subjects. These are the three things-volume of sound, modulation of pitch, and rhythm-that a speaker bears in mind. (Aristotle; Book III, Part I)
Delivery, like style, is not concerned with the content of the speech but with the ways in which it is transferred to its audience. Unlike the stage of memory, the stage of delivery is relevant to film: Delivery and acting performance are closely related to one another; it is, after all, a form of dramatic performance. Delivery thus is not strictly a verbal affair; body language, intonation, and volume are aspect that determine delivery. Delivery, therefore, can be argued to be the audio-visual element of rhetoric.
3.2 Rhetoric of the ‘Good Guy’
The construction of a cinematic speech, its arguments, arrangement, style, and delivery, influence the way in which the speech will be received by its audience. A speaker that uses rare and unfamiliar diction will not be understood or appreciated in the same fashion as a speaker that only uses common every-day words. Consequently, the extent to which the pre-battle speech embodiment of the lost referential impacts the receiving party relies upon the ways it is transferred its deliverer.
Rhetoric is hardly ever univocal; it varies in accordance with the personal taste and skill of the speaker. In order to illustrate the diversity of rhetoric, two speeches – one by Aragorn and one by
Saruman – shall be analysed and discussed. Aragorn’s speech prior to the Battle of Morannon, or the Battle of the Black Gate, which served as leading example in the previous chapter.
In terms of invention, Aragorn’s speech primarily relies on invented proofs. The first obvious argument is an appeal to ethos when Aragorn says, “Sons of Gondor … of Rohan … my brothers!” he establishes a connection between himself and his warriors: He is equal to them, and he will share their fate. This is a signal for the warriors that Aragorn can be trusted: They are in this together; they can trust him. Aragorn strengthens the connection between himself and his warriors by admitting that the fear he sees in their eyes is his fear also. Apart from further connecting himself and his (diegetic) audience, Aragorn present himself as an individual, as a subject rather than an objective party. This comprehends a second appeal to ethos as “[s]ubjectivity itself compels belief: [I]nstead of an aura of detached truthfulness we have the honest admission of a partial but important, situated but impassioned perspective (Nichols 81).
The next invented proof encountered in Aragorn’s speech is a mixture of both an appeal to logos and
pathos. When Aragorn declares that the day has not yet come for the Age of Men to “com[e] crashing
down”, this argument is in accordance with the ‘logic’ of the ideology he believes in: Eras come and go; it is now the time for Men to take centre stage; therefore it cannot be that they will shy away from battle. At the same time, as Aragorn speaks about the breaking of the bonds of fellowship and the forsaking of friends, he also appeals to his audience’s pathos, to their feelings of friendship and brotherhood, and love.
Whereas the second stage – the stage of arrangement – is concerned, Aragorn’s speech roughly follows the principle of the five-act classical play: He begins with an catching opening when he addresses the sons of Gondor and of Rohan in equal terms: This is remarkable because the warriors of Gondor and Rohan have not been on speaking terms with each other for a long time. Aragorn continues by acknowledging the ‘known’, which is the fear he sees in their eyes. He proceeds into the ‘new’ as he claims that “this day” will not be the day on which the Age of Men shall end. Indeed, he admits that there will be an end to the reign of Men, anticipating the obvious objection to his case; however, this objection is rejected by Aragorn by his belief that the time for the end of Men has simply not yet come; their reign is just about to begin. Unlike the classic play, Aragorn’s speech does not have a summary at
