Quoth I to my sister on Sunday afternoon. Tired, bored, and in need of a four-hour fangirl session, earlier in the day I had commandeered the middle room and curled up to watch The Two Towers Extended Edition. This, oddly enough, resulted in several things which had nothing to do with appeasing the monster inside of me which won’t let me not obsess over the tiniest of tiny details.
Aragorn and Arwen are having a lovely moment. Or at least, I assume they are because they’re speaking Sindarin and the subtitles won’t come on and I can’t work out how to change the aspect ratio. Enter father. He fixes it, and remarks on how I’ve been ‘converted’ to watching films with subtitles (he’s deaf). I not only point out that they aren’t speaking English, I also offer a couple of ideas of what language they may in, ruling out Westron because there isn’t enough written to compile a language out of, Black Speech because that’s for the other side of the war, and Quenya, because that’s more ceremonial than anything. This causes much hilarity over the dinner table late, as my dad relates the story.
My soundtrack doesn’t match up with the music in the film. Even allowing for the fact that I’m watching the extended edition, the songs are in the wrong order, and are all jumbled up, jumping from one to another and back again (see what I did (wrong film but never mind!)). I do not mention this to the rest of my family.
My sister comes into the room near the end of the film, as the Ents march to war.
“What are you watching now?”
Insert rude, snippy, sarcastic response in the title because this is the best scene in the entire flipping film and she’s ruining it. Seriously though. Watch it. Listen to the music. That scene is Middle Earth. It is the war, and the world and the very essence of everything I love about Tolkien.