Article
Culture
Film & TV
4 min read

Why we rewatch The Lord of The Rings each year

Great quotes, powerful themes, stir memories.

Steve is news director of Article 18, a human rights organisation documenting Christian persecution in Iran.

Two hobbits gaze at something.
New Line Cinema.

Every January for the past 15 years, my wife and I have re-watched The Lord of The Rings trilogy. Not the extended version, but, still, it’s a lot of hours to have committed to re-watching every year.  

So, why do we do it?  

Well, principally I suppose it’s simply because we believe the films to be excellent - arguably the best ever screen adaptation of a work of fiction - but I also think it's because the story has so much to teach us about real life.  

After watching them so many times, I can now quote most of the script, yet I still struggle to pick my favourite bits; there are just too many. 

From Samwise Gamgee’s speech about the greatest stories - those that “meant something” - being ones where “the chief characters had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going, because they were holding on to something … that there’s some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for”. 

To Gandalf’s encouragement to Peregrine Took, when the hobbit senses that he is about to meet his maker, of what follows after we die: that death is not the end, it’s “just another path; one that we all must take”, and how “the grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver and glass, and then you see it … white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise”. 

“That's not so bad,” Pippin replies, and of course, he’s right. 

Aside from the great quotes - and, trust me, there are many more I could mention - there’s also the way in which the breadth of human emotions and frailties are so perfectly depicted, such as our susceptibility to temptation, and how it can sometimes make us act in a manner that, as Frodo says of Boromir when he tries to rob him of the ring, is not like ourself.  

It is also encouraging to see how both the powerful and the meek - Gandalf and Samwise - are equally prone to temptation’s pull. 

The depth of friendships enjoyed by the hobbits is also a joy to behold, shining a light on that rarest gift of close friendship, while the films are kept mercifully free of anything smutty; on the contrary, they feel perfectly pure. 

And there is even the compulsory happy ending, with good triumphing over evil and the dragons being thrown down by the eagles in an apocalyptic scene worthy of the Book of Revelation. 

The author, J.R.R. Tolkien was a Catholic who served in both world wars, so it is hardly surprising that religious imagery can be found throughout, as well as glimpses into the ghastliest realities of war. 

One of the religious themes is the power of the weak to shame the strong, with the little hobbits - described as “the most unlikely creature imaginable” to have discovered the ring after it abandoned Gollum - ultimately being hailed as the saviours of Middle Earth and told by the new King of Gondor that they need “bow to no-one”. 

As Gandalf puts it, “even the smallest person can change the course of the future”. 

Meanwhile, everyone - even the trees, wonderfully portrayed as walking, talking “Ents” - have a part to play, with Merry lambasting them for initially deciding not to fight by saying: “But you’re part of this world, aren’t you?”  

As he says to his friend Pippin, should the fires of Isengard spread, “there won’t be any Shire” for them to return to. 

But the moment that really gets me, every time I watch it, comes at the very end, when - *spoiler alert* - Frodo speaks of feeling unable to return to normal life after such a big adventure. 

As someone who has had a few adventures of my own in the past - albeit none quite so fraught with danger - I can relate strongly to that sensation of coming home again and being overwhelmed by the feeling that nothing has changed, while at the same time believing that within myself, so much has.  

I often think back to the time my dear parents picked my wife and I up from the airport, a decade ago now, after we’d just flown back from Alaska having hitchhiked there from Argentina, and they spent the car journey updating us on the lives of my cousins. Not that I didn't want to hear their news; only that, at that moment, it felt as though there might be something else worth discussing. 

I think of that moment every time I watch the films’ denouement, and resonate with Frodo’s words when he says the Shire has been saved, but not for him; that some wounds from the past “run too deep” for the “threads of an old life” to be picked up again. 

But beyond the fantastic quotes and all 'The Lord of the Rings' has to teach us about life, the three films are also all simply a fantastic watch, which, if you haven't already, I would urge you to make the time for, and if you have, I would encourage you to do so again, even if you don't do it every year. 

​​​​​​​Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief

Review
Art
Awe and wonder
Culture
5 min read

This gallery refresh adds drama to the story of art

Rehanging the Sainsbury Wing revives the emotion of great art

Jonathan is Team Rector for Wickford and Runwell. He is co-author of The Secret Chord, and writes on the arts.

An art gallery arch reveals a suspended crucifix and other paintings in a distant room
The Sainsbury Wing interior.

The Sainsbury Wing of the National Gallery has recently reopened after closure for two years for building works. There was controversy over the designs for the Sainsbury Wing in the planning stage but its use, once built, to tell the story of the early stages in the development of Western art was widely welcomed and appreciated.  

The story that it told is essentially the story of Christian art and so the reopening of the Sainsbury Wing together with the rehanging of the National Gallery’s collection provides an opportunity to review that story. As a result of the completed work over 1,000 works of art - a larger proportion of the collection than has been previously displayed - trace the development of painting in the Western European tradition from the 13th to the 20th centuries from beloved favourites to paintings never previously seen in the National Gallery.  

The Sainsbury Wing features works from the medieval and Renaissance periods. Painting came of age during this time. It moved from manuscript illumination to images on panel and canvas, overtaking metalwork, tapestry and sculpture as the most popular and prestigious art form in Europe.  

An opening room contains works from the 14th to the 16th centuries, including The Wilton Diptych and Leonardo Da Vinci’s The Virgin of the Rocks, which together ask visitors to consider the full spectrum of what painting can do. This introductory room gives a sense of what these paintings were for and how they were used. Painting’s rise in status was due to all the things it can do such as tell complex stories, convey human emotions, fool the eye, capture a likeness, make viewers laugh, weep, pray and think. This room provides a sample of those achievements and the various functions painting fulfilled.  

Throughout the Sainsbury Wing, new display cases are used to show paintings as objects viewed from all sides, not simply as flat panels on walls. Medieval altarpieces often had winged panels that could be opened or closed depending on the season or occasion. An example is included here to show how such hinged panels were used. 

From this introductory room spanning the period, visitors can follow either a Northern European route or Italian route around the space, enabling influences between both to be highlighted. The key change explored on both routes is that artists in this period began to create a convincing illusion of reality in their paintings.  

The earliest paintings in the National Gallery Collection were made in central Italy nearly 800 years ago. These naturalistic and intimate images of love, grief and suffering responded to a new interest in the humanity of Christ. A chapel-like space is entirely dedicated to Piero della Francesca whose work, with its cool colour palette and keen sense of space and light, possesses a dignified solemnity. Another room focuses on the spiritual power of gold-ground scenes of devotion, exploring the way gold in paintings was used to evoke the timeless, spiritual significance of Christ, the Virgin and saints, and set these holy figures apart from our world. 

The galleries in the Sainsbury Wing were designed to evoke, for visitors, a Renaissance Basilica. Its architectural features make it possible to display paintings in a similar way to how they would have originally been encountered. The central galleries form the nave of the basilica and all the altarpieces displayed are now there. These galleries are devoted to works made in Florence, Venice, and Siena. The early Florentine room represents the principal point of departure for this new art. In the Venetian room we see the development of perspective, while the Siena room resembles a side chapel in the basilica.  

An altarpiece made for the church of San Pier Maggiore in Florence by Jacopo di Cione and his workshop has been reconstructed and sits on an altar-like plinth to evoke the view of it originally seen by worshippers. Predella panels by Fra Angelico are displayed in a case in front of this altarpiece giving an indication of the way in which predellas interacted with a larger, grander altarpiece. The positioning of these two works also illustrates the movement in terms of realism found in the paintings of this period. The Ascension scene on the altarpiece depicts a statue-like ascended Christ while Fra Angelico’s resurrected Christ in the predella is more realistically floating in the air. 

In a first for the National Gallery, Segna di Bonaventura’s Crucifix is visible down the central spine of the Sainsbury Wing, suspended from the ceiling. This enables today’s audiences to view the work in the way it would have been seen in the 14th century. Painted crucifixes were common in 13th- and 14th-century Italian churches, often displayed high-up like this one. Rood screens on which such crucifixes were originally placed were often destroyed in the Counter Reformation, which led to crucifix’s then being hung from the ceiling, as is the case here. 

The rehang also presents several works back on display after long-term conservation projects. The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian by Antonio del Pollaiuolo and Piero del Pollaiuolo is back on show after nearly three years of conservation and scientific examination. 

The rehang of The Sainsbury Wing brings to life the way artists forged a new way of painting, painting with a drama that no one had seen before.

Despite the religious and political upheaval caused by the Reformation, the arts also flourished in Northern Europe during this time. Prints transformed the exchange of artistic ideas. Christians were encouraged to use images as a focus for meditation on the lives of Christ and the saints and paintings that were meant to be handled and examined close-up were created for the private devotion of members of religious orders and laypeople. Albrecht Dürer and Lucas Cranach were key figures, with Dürer’s prints, portraits, altarpieces and non-religious subjects transforming painting both in the Holy Roman Empire and beyond. 

Christianity became the predominant power shaping European culture after classical antiquity, inspiring artists and patrons to evoke the nature of sacred mysteries in visual terms. The rehang of The Sainsbury Wing brings to life the way artists forged a new way of painting, painting with a drama that no one had seen before and with stories flowing across panels in colourful scenes. These displays also promote a greater understanding of how works of art were, and still are, used as models of moral behaviour, as celebrations of the deeds of holy figures or as a plea for one’s hopes, both in this life and in the afterlife. 

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,500 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief