Peter Jackson's The Lord Of The Rings trilogy, based on J R R Tolkien's masterpiece, was a testament to cinematic brilliance, and earned critical acclaim, numerous Oscars and immense commercial success. The movies also stayed true to the spirit of the source material. The Lord Of The Rings: The War Of The Rohirrim is an anime adaptation of that universe. But unlike Jackson's live-action epics, this fantasy film deviates from Tolkien's original narrative. The result is a divisive reception that risks diluting the legacy of the beloved The Lord Of The Rings saga.
Set 183 years before Frodo's fateful journey (as mentioned in Jackson's trilogy), The War Of The Rohirrim chronicles the tale of Helm Hammerhand, the revered King of Rohan (a fictional Middle-earth kingdom), and his defiant stand against Wulf, the cunning lord of the Dunlending (the people of Dunland, a place near Rohan). The story is anchored at Helm's Deep, the mountain stronghold of Rohan. After Hammerhand is mortally wounded and both of his sons are killed by Wulf, Hammerhand's daughter Héra emerges as a central figure in this desperate fight for survival. Once torn between duty and independence, Héra rises to lead her people when all seems lost, echoing the warrior spirit of her descendant Éowyn. The rest of the story is how she takes on Wulf alone.
While the premise draws from the appendix of The Return Of The King (last one in the trilogy), the film feels more like a speculative footnote than a fully realized addition to Middle-earth lore. The anime format tries to put some fresh aesthetic to Tolkien's world, but the execution often feels constrained, like a soulless, half-hearted imitation of Jackson's epic vision. And the departure from Tolkien's narrative creates unnecessary confusion in the minds of Tolkien and Jackson fans. To put it short - it's neither Tolkienist nor Jacksonist. What's worse, the plot is wafer-thin, there's not much conflict, and the character of the adversary Wulf is almost dumbed down.
The feminist lens placed on Héra's character tries to inject contemporary relevance, but her portrayal edges toward anime archetypes - oversized eyes and exaggerated features - that reduce her to a visual trope rather than an empowering figure. The movie attempts to balance solemnity and spectacle, but the animation rarely soars, delivering neither the grandeur of Tolkien's verses nor the boundless creativity anime is known for.
Brian Cox lends gravitas to Helm Hammerhand, embodying a patriarch weathered by war and betrayal. His voice resonates with Shakespearean weight, though the script offers him limited range. Gaia Wise, voicing Héra, imbues the character with determination, but her arc feels familiar, echoing Éowyn's journey without reaching its emotional peak. Luke Pasqualino as Wulf portrays an antagonist driven by vengeance in a somewhat predictable way, even if it feels inadequate. Miranda Otto's narration as Éowyn is a nostalgic touch but serves more as a reminder of the trilogy's legacy than an enhancement to the story.
Director Kenji Kamiyama's anime interpretation of Middle-earth is visually compelling in certain moments but lacks the bold expressionism that elevates the best of the genre. The hand-drawn aesthetic effectively captures the warm hues of Rohan's plains and the icy desolation of Helm's Deep. However, the animation leans too heavily on realism, missing the opportunity to fully embrace and amplify the fantastical elements of the story.
A significant disconnect emerges between the characters and their environment. While the characters are rendered in a distinctly anime style, the world they inhabit oscillates between hyper-realistic landscapes and anime-inspired settings. For instance, the hills, rivers and castles resemble live-action visuals, whereas the characters are clearly hand-drawn, creating a jarring mismatch. This stylistic inconsistency detracts from the overall visual experience.
Additionally, the animation suffers from a lack of fluidity. The characters' movements often appear choppy, resembling a frame rate as low as 10 frames per second, which further disrupts the viewing experience. The result is an uneven blend of artistry and execution, falling short of the genre's potential.
Howard Shore's occasional musical motifs add a whisper of nostalgia but only underline the film's inability to replicate the majesty of the original trilogy.
The pacing feels uneven, stretching a simple narrative into a runtime that overstays its welcome (at 134 minutes, the film is lengthy). The movie's battle sequences, while competently executed, lack the visceral impact and emotional stakes that defined Jackson's sweeping clashes.
The War Of The Rohirrim is neither a visually respectable nor a narratively ambitious addition to the Lord Of The Rings universe. For die-hard Tolkien fans, it offers a fleeting return to Middle-earth, though it leans heavily on nostalgia rather than breaking new ground. Casual viewers or those experiencing Tolkien fatigue may find it a plodding and uninspired detour.
If you're craving Middle-earth magic, revisit Jackson's trilogy, where every frame brims with purpose and passion. This film is not earnest in its intentions, and feels more like piggybacking on the trilogy's success. It is more of a placeholder than a worthy heir to Tolkien's legacy.