FOND MEMORIES FROM DANIEL FALCONER

Shortly after the first round of shooting had been completed, we in the movies’ crew were treated to a special screening of some key scenes that Peter Jackson had edited together with a temp. score. Taking turns, each department crowded into the private Camperdown Cinema adjoining Weta Workshop, a small but magnificently appointed theatre decorated with sculpted balustrades and a proscenium arch upon which creatures from past Peter Jackson movies danced in sculpted relief. By this point some of us had been on the project as much as three years, but this was the first time we were going to see something close to finished. The anticipation was electric!

The lights dimmed and excited chatter died away, the quiet dark of the theatre wrapping us all in its embrace, and we all held our breath! Suddenly our faces were illuminated by the bright hills of the Shire, following Gandalf as his cart wound its way through narrow green-swathed lanes toward the Hill, and smiles appeared everywhere. Sir’s Ian Holm and McKellen embraced upon the doorstep of Bag End; Frodo and his friends hid from the relentless Ringwraiths and sought shelter in Rivendell; the Fellowship climbed the snowy slopes of Caradhras and softly tread the melancholy emptiness of Moria. In what seemed like no time at all, twenty minutes had passed, and we were in the woods of Parth Galen, watching in horror as Boromir fought off waves of savage Uruk-hai in defence of Merry and Pippin. Arrow after arrow struck him and he fell, the Hobbits taken. We’d only met Sean Bean’s Boromir a scene or two ago, but the power of his portrayal, the anguish of his struggle, the poetry of his fall, set to the heart-breaking melodies of Braveheart in the temp. score, captured us all.

Moments later it was over, and as the lights came up again there wasn’t a dry eye in the cinema. We all knew right then that this was going to be something truly special. Fantasy films had tended to be a bit clunky or cheesy in the past. There was a certain awkwardness which kept audiences from engaging, and it was in the backs of all of our minds, an ever-present niggle up to that moment that perhaps this was going to be the same. Some of us familiar with Tolkien’s writings had dared to hope: the subject matter was so strong, but after numerous attempts to adapt it in the past it was said to be unfilmable. Now that hope had come true. It would be a year before audiences all over the world would see it, but we knew as we left that cinema, that we were on the journey of a lifetime!

With Mordor pressing in upon his people’s borders, Boromir seeks to persuade the Ringbearer to come to Minas Tirith where the weapon of the enemy might be used against Sauron. Yet the great warrior’s pleas fall upon deaf ears, for Gandalf speaks against this course and the hobbit Frodo, bearer of the One Ring, trusts the Wizard’s judgement.

Nevertheless, the Ring comes ever into Boromir’s thoughts, and at Amon Hen, alone with Frodo in the Parth Galen woods, he is overcome and tries to take it by force. Frodo flees and Boromir shakes himself free of the madness that took him, but too late, for the scattered Fellowship is attacked by Uruk-hai. Blowing upon the mighty Horn of Gondor, Boromir fights against overwhelming odds to protect Merry and Pippin. Even pierced with arrows, he staggers on, wildly swinging his sword, though his strength ebbs, a valiant son of Gondor to the end.

Boromir at Amon Hen joins Weta Workshop's high-quality 1:6 scale Middle-earth line; a line that is designed by the very same artists and technicians who work on our movies.