Peter Jackson shot The Lord of the Rings as one mammoth production, spanning 15 months and 350 locations across his native New Zealand. In years to come this adaptation will surely be watched by devotees in one butt-numbing nine-hour sitting. Until then it's being rationed out every Christmas between now and 2003. As a result, this cliffhanger comes timed to a lengthy calendar. Pre-teens who whimper at the tale's scary moments now will be blase adolescents by the time it hits its grand finale.
Rather than a standalone holiday blockbuster, The Fellowship of the Ring serves as an epic act one. Jackson lays the groundwork with a crash course on Middle Earth and then sets humble hobbit Frodo Baggins (Elijah Wood) on the first steps of his quest to destroy an evil trinket, the "One Ring to rule them all". Along the way he acquires an eight-strong band of helpmates. Some of these (Ian McKellen's bristling wizard, Viggo Mortensen's royal-in-exile) emerge as rounded, convincing protagonists. Others - the dwarf and the elf - are left as contours; on hand to grumble about the weather or fire off the occasional arrow. Presumably they'll be given more to do as the story progresses.
But then Jackson has given himself a mountain to climb in tackling Tolkien's obsessively multi-layered fantasy, intricate back stories, made-up languages and all. On the whole he copes beautifully. The film honours the text without being enslaved by it. Explanatory dialogue may creak on occasion, but the action scenes have a snap and pace that suggests a film-maker not scared to bring his own touch to the material. Physically, too, the film is a triumph: an art department's dream and a potent advert for New Zealand.
It remains to be seen how the public will cope with an ongoing Lord of the Rings franchise. One could argue that Tolkien's yarn has fallen into disrepute since its 50s heyday, as the preserve of too many hippies and heavy metal album covers.
Certainly Jackson's serious, high-minded approach looks defiantly out of fashion; worlds away from kid-friendly Harry Potter.
Instead, The Fellowship of the Ring boasts some more unlikely influences. At times, Jackson's film could almost pass for the Anglo-Saxon cousin of Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
Most ambitiously, this rousing adventure closes with an ending that is closer in spirit to an art house film than a popcorn holiday romp. By the final credits, the fellowship has been mobbed by goblins, plagued by self-doubt and effectively scattered to the four winds. Its downbeat sendoff leaves the punters dangling. Will the fellowship perish or will it prevail? The next instalment is still 12 months away.
