Do you remember the weeks and months leading to the release of Peter Jackson’s The Return of the King? Do you remember the buzz and anticipation that reached its crescendo in December of 2003? We had already enjoyed The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers, films that had transported us to Middle Earth and gotten us deeply engaged in Tolkien’s world, characters, and lore. We knew it had all been leading to this—to the journey into Mordor, to the ascent of Mount Doom, and to the culminating battles between the forces of good and the forces of evil. We were ready. We were waiting. We were excited.
What none of us felt in the lead-up to the final film was fear or dread. We did not fear or dread the film because we knew it was right that a story that had begun should come to its close. We may have felt an element of sorrow that the story was ending and we would need to bid farewell to characters we had come to love, but we knew that it was good for us to come to its final chapter. And we longed to see
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