Chapter 470: Greatness

The first forty minutes of the film, aside from Duke's specially edited death of Saruman, contained almost no action scenes, yet Brad Miller didn't find it dull in the slightest. Even without massive set pieces, this was still the epic he had envisioned—grand in scale, with larger-than-life characters, a sweeping score, profound textures, rich lore, and a gripping plot. Every detail laid the groundwork for what was to come, making the atmosphere of the final epic battle surge with even greater, more overwhelming intensity!

Sitting beside the famous Roger Ebert, Kirk had long since forgotten the critic's presence. All his attention was poured into the film. There were simply too many elements that left him awestruck: the lifelike Orcs, the dark and gloomy Minas Morgul... The production was nothing short of perfect. Even without delving into the deeper meaning of the war between good and evil, the sheer spectacle was well worth the price of admission.

The following sequence was especially powerful. The combination of the score and the visuals alone practically detonated the atmosphere in the theater: Pippin climbed the beacon tower and lit the signal fire to call Rohan for aid!

Perched atop the snowy peaks, the beacons ignited one after another. Accompanied by the stirring soundtrack, the line of fires snaked its way toward Rohan like a colossal dragon awakening from its slumber!

The beacon of Amon Din was lit, and with it, the hope of mankind!

Sitting in the theater, Oliver Stone sighed inwardly. When it came to stirring emotions, Duke Rosenberg was undoubtedly the top director in Hollywood. He didn't even need to employ overly clever tricks; he often relied on the simplest, most direct methods to evoke feelings. Even if the audience knew they were being manipulated, they still found themselves deeply intoxicated, savoring the raw emotion and joy the film delivered.

Never mind the general audience—even a professional director like him was brimming with anticipation for the impending battle.

Would Rohan send its troops? In this life-or-death moment for Middle-earth, could humanity truly unite to stand against the forces of darkness?

Kunitz harbored the same question, but King Theoden soon delivered the answer.

"Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohan Knights!"

At that single, simple line, Kunitz heard a collective sigh of relief ripple through the people around him. The tension the film had built had stretched everyone's nerves to the absolute limit.

The fractured world of men was finally uniting!

"If the film can keep this up and just gloss over the war scenes," Roger Ebert muttered, unconsciously scribbling on his notepad. "I might consider giving it a passing grade."

Compared to the constant hacking and slashing right from the beginning of The Two Towers, Roger Ebert was feeling rather positive about Return of the King up to this point. Though it was only relatively positive...

However, from Speed to the current Return of the King, Duke's films were ultimately never made for film critics.

War drums thundered like rolling storms. An army of Orcs, covering the mountains and plains, surged toward the White City like a tidal wave. The battle of Minas Tirith had finally begun!

In this day and age, the film possessed an overwhelming appeal, particularly for general audiences—whether through its massive sets, its special effects, or the courage it championed. From the catapult bombardments to the aerial strikes of the Ringwraiths, the viewers were left dazzled and dumbfounded. Their eyes were glued to the screen, unwilling to look away for even a fraction of a second.

"Duke wasn't lying," Jones murmured. "Compared to the warfare in Return of the King, the battle of Helm's Deep really was just an appetizer!"

Kunitz chimed in agreement, "What other movie could possibly compare to a scene this colossal?"

This was a siege unlike anything ever seen in cinematic history. This wasn't a skirmish of a few dozen or a few hundred men hacking at each other like in other epic films. An army of a hundred thousand Orcs, bringing along countless monsters, charged at the gates, walls, and every conceivable breach of Minas Tirith. They had only one goal: the utter extinction of mankind!

Though humans could be greedy, cruel, ignorant, and arrogant, they would never perish—because they could also be incredibly brave and undeniably resilient!

Just as the White City was about to fall, just as humanity was on the brink of defeat, the iconic horns of Rohan sounded.

The sun cresting the horizon banished the eastern night, illuminating a swathe of the sky and bringing hope to a world suffocated by dark clouds. Bathed in a myriad of crimson rays, the massive host of the Rohan Elite Cavalry galloped over the horizon, halting to regroup on the Pelennor Fields. The tips of their spears and swords pointed straight at the army of a hundred thousand Orcs!

They were ready for battle! They were about to avenge their fallen brethren! Their iron hooves would trample the husks of the Orcs! Their short spears and sharp swords would sever those filthy, hideous heads!

"Ride! Fear no darkness!"

King Theoden spurred his horse into a furious gallop across the frontlines, delivering his final rally to the Rohan Elite Cavalry.

"Ride forward, Knights of King Theoden! Sever the spears, shatter the shields! Today we fight, and blood will dye the sands! Let us welcome the end of the world with slaughter as the morning sun rises!"

"Fight to the death! Fight to the death! Fight to the death..."

That impassioned battle cry carried a power that struck deep into the soul. Many people trembled with excitement. If they weren't sitting in a movie theater, they definitely would have shouted along.

Had there ever been such a massive cavalry charge in the history of cinema? Absolutely not!

The sun illuminated the formations of the Rohan Elite Cavalry. Bathed in the sunlight, King Theoden swept his sword forward.

"For Eorlingas!"

The horns of Rohan sounded once more. The colossal cavalry formation slowly advanced. Six thousand elite riders pressed forward with indomitable will, embracing this blood-drenched dawn with courage and slaughter!

"This is the most inspiring movie in history!"

Watching the great host of Rohan cavalry charge toward the Orcs, Kirk was beside himself with excitement. Completely forgetting that the man sitting next to him was Roger Ebert, he mistook him for his companion John and subconsciously grabbed his arm.

"This is the most inspiring scene out of every movie I've ever seen!"

"Yes, exactly!"

Sitting one seat over, just past Roger Ebert, John eagerly echoed the sentiment.

The most inspiring?

Roger Ebert wrenched his arm free from Kirk's grasp, his face twisted in disgust as he glared at the screen. He muttered under his breath:

"There's absolutely no need for this scene to exist. These kinds of special effects spectacles are just grandstanding."

"Duke Rosenberg's style is still just as obnoxious and sickening!" he added.

From the moment the horns blew, Kirk had felt a tiny flame slowly begin to burn inside his chest. When the Rohan Elite Cavalry crashed into the enemy lines, his blood practically boiled over.

Caught in this surge of pure emotion, he snapped his head around the moment he heard those words, glaring furiously at Roger Ebert.

"What did you say?"

Looking at this fan who had turned hostile faster than one could flip a page, Roger Ebert still shot back a reply.

"This movie is incredibly vulgar. There's really no need for you to—"

Before he could finish, he felt two pairs of eyes lock onto him like starving wolves. The two moviegoers who had politely made way for him earlier now looked ready to tear him apart over what he had just said.

"Mr. Ebert, you are free to bash a movie in your column," Kirk said, taking a deep breath to rein in his temper. "But please remember, do not insult a fan's favorite director and film right to their face. When you do that, you aren't just insulting the movie—you're insulting us fans..."

His words were calm and his voice was low, but several people nearby still turned their heads. The man named John wasn't nearly as polite as Kirk. In just a few sentences, he broadcasted exactly what Roger Ebert had just said.

A sea of vicious glares instantly fixed straight onto Roger Ebert!

Roger Ebert had originally wanted to stand by his opinion, but he wasn't a fool. He gave a low cough.

"Excuse me, I'm going to the restroom."

Kirk nodded, but didn't immediately step aside. Instead, he pulled the notebook out of his pocket, found the page Roger Ebert had signed before the screening, ripped it straight out, and threw it on the floor.

He wasn't going to show much respect to someone who insulted the movie he loved.

Roger Ebert's entire face flushed scarlet, waves of dizziness washing through his brain. To think he was being treated this way by an absolute nobody...

However, with everyone around staring at him, Roger Ebert knew that if he stayed any longer, the entire theater would become his enemy.

Swallowing his indignation, he squeezed through the gap Kirk left for him and walked out, his ears catching snippet after snippet of disdainful remarks.

"What kind of garbage critic is that? Does he even understand movies?!"

"If I wasn't afraid of holding up the movie for everyone, I would've punched him right in the face."

"Look at that ugly mug of his. Even the Orcs in The Lord of the Rings look better than him..."

"His brain definitely didn't finish evolving. I bet his IQ is lower than an Orc's..."

"Um, let me just ask, who exactly is this Roger Ebert guy anyway?"

Hearing that, Roger Ebert nearly coughed up blood. This was Chicago—his home turf, the very foundation of his career!

Yet from the moment he stood up to the moment he left, not a single person glanced back at him again. Compared to the film playing on the silver screen, what did Roger Ebert even count for?

The movie carried on. The audience's emotions were completely dialed to the maximum, and the moment belonging to King Elessar had finally arrived.

"Stand your ground! Stand your ground!"

Before the imposing Black Gate, Aragorn spurred his horse and brandished his sword, shouting urgently to his formations to bolster the morale they needed so desperately in this hour. He rode back and forth across the front lines.

King Elessar had finally taken his rightful place.

"Warriors of Gondor and Rohan! My brothers!" he cried out, raising his sword. "I see in your eyes the same fear that I feel!"

"A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we are forsaken by our allies and suffer a crushing defeat—but it is not this day!"

"A day may come when evil triumphs over good, when the world of men will be completely destroyed—but it is not this day!"

"Today we fight to the death! To protect everything in this world that you hold dear, fight to the bitter end, men of the West!"

Yes, humanity would never be extinguished by darkness and evil. The future might be unknown, but they had to fight today. So let them fight shoulder to shoulder, all the way to the very end!

Kunitz's eyes were wide. In his mind, this film couldn't even be described as a classic anymore. Only one word was truly fitting—greatness!