No, Peter Jackson Did Not "Fix" Faramir

by Andrew Snyder

I need to begin by saying that I love Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies. They are masterpieces that I watch on a regular basis. In fact, it is a testament to their enduring power that we have not stopped discussing them for the last 20+ years. With that being said, I have some gripes.

I could discuss Aragorn, the self-possessed king turned into a doubting and reluctant hero, the wise Gimli-turned-jester, the missing Glorfindel, the elves at Helm’s Deep, the misapplication of the Army of the Dead, and much more. However, of all the “innovations,” the one that I find the most egregious is the weakening of Faramir. The young captain of Gondor was truly robbed of his his opportunity to show his quality.

To a large extent, movie Faramir is essentially a worse form of Boromir who eventually manages to overcome the struggle that, at least for a time, defeated his brother. Boromir was a tragic hero who succumbed to the darkness he spent his life opposing. Movie Boromir lost much of his virtue as well, but he was at least given loyalty to Frodo for a time, and his repentant valor and deathbed confession to Aragorn brings tears to my eyes with every viewing. Movie Faramir, however, is weak from the beginning. He is a despairing lord of Gondor, driven to the edge of moral sanity with desire for his father’s approval. He takes Frodo captive, is almost instantly driven to take the Ring as his own, and only after dragging Frodo and Sam to Osgiliath is he willing to let them go. He is only an ally to the good to the extent that he avoids playing the villain.

After stumbling across Frodo and Sam and receiving a bit of information about their identity and purpose, the first thing book Faramir does is give them guards for their safety - not captivity - as his band fights the Southrons. When Faramir returns to the hobbits, they continue to learn more from each other. Faramir is initially guarded and suspicious, as he has every right to be, but he is neither angry nor hostile. Through the conversation, he is fairly readily convinced that Frodo is on the right side of things and that he bears Isildur’s Bane. He doesn’t know exactly what this is, but he is familiar enough with the lore to recognize it as a weapon of the Enemy and he is familiar enough with moral reality to heartily agree with Frodo that it is not to be used, even with the best of intentions.

“I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway. Not were Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using the weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs, Frodo son of Drogo…”

When I recently raised this issue on Twitter, I had a surprisingly large number of detractors point to this statement as evidence that movie Faramir is actually an improvement as a character because he is made to be more “real” through weakened resolve. However, this is to entirely misunderstand the nature of virtue. It is clear throughout Tolkien’s legendarium that those who grasp for power are almost inevitably grasped by power. The power of the Ring, an extension of Sauron’s own power, particularly does this. It was not an oversight that allowed Tolkien to give Faramir such resolve or “boring purity,” as one tweeter put it. Faramir was a paragon of virtue in this moment because he had prepared for it. Like Boromir, Faramir lived his entire life in the Shadow of evil. However, unlike Boromir, he had the wisdom to understand the nature of evil in relation to human fragility and sought to protect that which was most valuable, which is not principally accomplished by the sword.

"War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: the city of the Men of Númenor; and I would have her loved for her memory, her ancientry, her beauty, and her present wisdom. Not feared, save as men may fear the dignity of a man, old and wise."

While the sword has its place, he had cultivated an affection for that which the sword defends over the sword itself. This reminds me of Augustine’s treatment of war, in which he explains that the real evil of war is not in death, which will come to all men regardless, but the growing love of war. Faramir is not, therefore, some kind of superhuman, but is rather a bulwark of established wisdom and virtue that ought to refreshen our darkened eyes and call our souls upward. If we see virtue as “boring,” the problem is by no means with virtue. It may be that we have lost the ability to delight in goodness and, in a quest for “relatability,” have sought to conform the good to ourselves rather than ourselves to the good.

Some say that movie Faramir’s internal struggle plays better in cinema, but I don’t buy that. I see no reason why a bright light in a dark land would be anything but refreshing, unexpected, and glorious. Book Faramir plays a role very similar to the star (of Eärendil, I believe) that Sam notices in the forsaken land:

“Far above the Ephel Dúath in the West the night-sky was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”

Much of The Lord of the Rings is grim. From the initial appearance of the Black Riders in The Shire to the Cracks of Doom and beyond, our heroes are surrounded by darkness, but there are these few reminders that there is still light to be found. One of the best lines in the movies comes from Sam, “There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for.” Although this line is not in the books, it fits quite well. There are glimmers of ultimate Good that remind the heroes - and the readers - that no matter how dark things seem to be, there is an eternal beauty that sometimes penetrates the veil and shows forth, whether as a star in the heavens or the virtuous heart of a good man.

To reiterate, I do sincerely love the movies, but I cannot deny that they are impacted by our ever-growing desire to conform reality to our dimmed sensibilities rather than to conform our sensibilities to the reality of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. Aesthetics is more than opinion. There are right and wrong ways to see and to savor the world. Muses and sirens are not determined by the beholder, but by nature and ends. As with Faramir, we ought to learn to see through superficial appearances and cultivate affections for the things that matter.

If only we had more of Tolkien’s Faramirs in this world — or at least on our screens.

The Sun Unveiled by Ted Nasmith

About the Author

Andrew Snyder holds a Ph.D. in theology with a dissertational focus on Søren Kierkegaard’s theology of self-formation. He is a professor of philosophy and religion, the host of the Mythic Mind podcast, and the founder of the Mythic Mind Fellowship. You can follow him on Twitter @andrewnsnyder and subscribe to his personal Substack on The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien at Andrew N. Snyder

To join the Mythic Fellowship, head over to patreon.com/mythicmind.