‘With hindsight,’ reflects Richard Taylor, ‘the only issue was that we didn’t build a department that was flexible enough to accommodate Peter’s working style. You can’t force Peter to lock down to a tight schedule and a “deliverables list” because it doesn’t allow him to have what is his greatest inspiration – his on-set vision. You’ve got to treat the work as if it is a ball of clay to be melded and moved around, and that requires a flexible environment.’
Fran Walsh says: ‘If we learnt anything, it was that you have to have people with real experience in every key role.’ People with good intentions, doing their best, simply wasn’t enough.
The truth was that no one was completely prepared for all that had to be achieved and for the exacting demands that would be made on everyone. As a result there were various changes in staff during the first few months of filming with producer Tim Sanders leaving the project and key personnel at Weta Digital being replaced at the cost of several friendships and with certain individuals feeling saddened and bitter…
‘It wasn’t that they weren’t doing great work,’ reflects Richard Taylor, ‘it wasn’t that their hearts weren’t in it – these people were working like maniacs to do a lovely job – but for whatever reason, the studio lost confidence in them and put great pressure on us to replace them. It’s taken many years to repair some of the damaged relationships.’
It’s painful…It’s a small industry. Healing has to happen over a period of time. When things like this happen you are only ever doing it for the good of the film, but what’s good for the film can be very hurtful and disastrous for the individual…
Jamie Selkirk concurs: ‘These were stressful times and some painful decisions were made, but we battled our way through it and kept going.’
The realisation had dawned that The Lord of the Rings was a juggernaut, thundering along and taking everybody’s best endeavours to keep it up to speed, on time and to ensure that it didn’t come off the road…
Playing out in the background was another drama that might easily have had disastrous knock-on effects on the way in which The Lord of the Rings was completed and marketed, and most certainly affected the way in which New Line attempted to manage the project. In January 2000, the largest business merger in history took place when America Online (AOL) bought New Line’s parent company, Time-Warner. Among the many questions being asked when the new $350billion company emerged from the wedding ceremony was whether any of the children in the marriage might suffer. Certainly, a number of what Peter describes as ‘AOL watchdogs’ were now on the case and keeping a close eye on all expenditure. It became increasingly clear that The Lord of the Rings now had to succeed.
It was around this time that Bob Shaye and Michael Lynne paid their first visit to the Jackson studios in Wellington, accompanied by representatives from their foreign distributors. The purpose of the visit was for New Line’s partners to be given a tour of the studio, but Peter had decided to produce a showreel of footage that had been shot to date to give Bob and Michael an indication of what they were getting for their ever-rising budget!
Working with editor John Gilbert over the Christmas break, Peter had cut together an impressive series of scenes: Gandalf in Bag End, banging his head on the beam; Sam and Frodo in the cornfield; the four hobbits hiding from the Black Rider under the tree-roots, and concluding with the death of Boromir and Aragorn’s grieving. With an added music score, it was an impressive twenty minutes of footage.
It wasn’t required of me; it was something I didn’t have to do especially since I felt that they had been so very negative towards me the last time I’d spoken with them. But we were really proud of what we’d shot and I decided that it might be strategically smart to screen something for Bob and Michael.
I didn’t want to meet and socialise beforehand, so we arranged for them to go to their hotel and then come out to our cinema.
There has been a much-told story about this first visit, which describes Bob Shaye walking down a corridor lined with posters for Bad Taste, Meet the Feebles and Braindead and wondering what on earth he had got New Line into…
‘I absolutely believe that story,’ says Ken Kamins. ‘What Bob did in taking this gamble no one will truly understand; what drives somebody to take a risk, to speculate, at any moment in time is chemical – it’s within their DNA! And the urge to do something bold and dramatic comes quickly; how you feel about it after you’ve done it takes some time to process and I have no doubt that coming down to New Zealand and seeing Peter’s facilities and seeing those posters on the wall probably gave Bob the horrors!’
Ask Bob Shaye if the story is accurate or mythic and the answer snaps back: ‘That’s not mythic; that’s absolutely true. I was the source of that story…We’d already committed and we were going to see the first footage. I was aware of Peter’s previous movies, had seen several; I knew what the boy had in him. Those early movies demonstrated creative vision and were made for very little money, all good stuff – but this was a whole new ball game! So it was a little chilling to see all these posters were taped on the wall crooked! I mean, come on! We didn’t need to have fancy offices, but I said to myself, “I hope what we see is going to be good…”
Minutes later, fortunately, he was seeing the film…I remember as Bob came towards me; I did a playful boxing thing, raising my guard saying, ‘Please, don’t hit me!’ He laughed and gave me a hug and I told them that I realised they were unhappy that we were over budget, but that I thought they would like to see some of the footage and let the film speak for itself.
When the lights came up I could see that Bob had been crying. There was silence, and then Michael said, ‘It’s a drama!’ I found that interesting and realised that certain sections of the picture were Hercules, Sinbad and pure brainless sorcery; but that the scenes they had just watched were dramatic and emotional. I honestly think they were surprised by the tone of film.
Peter had intended the film solely to be shown to Bob and Michael, but over dinner that night they asked Peter if they could screen it for their foreign partners. The footage was shown to the distributors, who were as impressed as the New Line bosses had been.
Basically it created an uplifting mood and was a real turning point. We’d resisted micromanagement and, as much as they hated the budget going up, they knew that it was all going on screen to make the films better than we ever thought they’d be. I guess, in the end, they thought, ‘We can either ride it or we leave them to it…’ and I think at that moment they made a conscious decision to let me just get on with it. I really believe it was the first time they felt that they could trust me, beyond bankrolling the film in the first place.
I love it when people trust me. I don’t respond well to micromanagement. Two things drive me: one is fear, putting your neck on the line, terrified it’s going to be a disaster; the other is knowing that people have put their trust in me. I’ve always made a point of thanking New Line for their trust.
Trust is one of the most powerful creative tools – it makes me utterly determined not to let people down.
At last, some of the early tensions began to ease. ‘While the budget increased way beyond what we contemplated,’ says Michael Lynne, ‘we did it in a measured step way. As we saw things, became more involved in the picture and realised that Peter was delivering the goods, Bob and I made the decision that this was worth continuing with. We always had the option of pulling the plug or cutting back.’
‘The truth is,’ adds Bob Shaye, ‘the enthusiasm level became so exciting and filled with potential that it became easier to say, “Okay, in the scheme of things, another $10million across the three films is worth that investment.” It was always hard to know, when people said it would cost an extra $10million more, where to cut it back to, what it would mean if we were to say, “No, we’ll only give you $5million…” There were a couple of times when that happened and Peter said, “Fine, I’ll do it with what you give me.” It was a give and take situation. We’re n
ot just rubber-stamp producers, we argued long and hard about some things.’
‘I still believe,’ says Shaye, ‘that Peter made this film for less than somebody else who had more experience with big-budget films. We could have been talking about a lot more! I won’t reference on the movies!’
Nevertheless, a huge part of New Line’s expenditure was committed to The Lord of the Rings: ‘Some of the stress that was hardest to bear,’ recalls Fran, ‘came in little insights. People who were close to the studio would say, “You realise all their jobs are going to go, they’ll be out of work; they are so hostile as they can’t green-light any other movies: you’ve taken all the money.” It was all or nothing; it was all on us; if the film failed it wasn’t just us who were going down, it was everybody. It was an awful feeling.’
‘There was a lot of pressure,’ recalls Ken Kamins. ‘Mark Ordesky would send me the occasional off-the-record e-mail telling me about issues that were of concern to New Line and, now and again, expressing great concern about us being headed into a gigantic problem. I would never concern myself with those e-mails unless and until Peter sent me his own e-mail on the same subject, which was maybe 15 per cent of the time. But at no time did New Line call me directly and say, “If your client doesn’t do X we will do Y…” That never happened.’
Throughout the rollercoaster ride, people – as companies and individuals – committed themselves to Peter. Richard Taylor remarks, ‘We’ve never questioned the fact that Peter is a genius and is going to make exceptionally good films. We’ve gone along with his every wish and have had our company taken to the brink because we have always known that Pete would pull it off and that the results would be beautiful and successful.’
‘What we’ve always said,’ adds Tania Rodger, ‘is that if it all fell over tomorrow, we’ll simply pick up what’s left and start again. Our attitude has been to go along with Pete that way and not panic about the risks that are taken, because we trust where Pete’s leading us; sometimes, it might not be the most pleasant of journeys but, ultimately, you will reach wherever he’s aiming to get everybody.’
For the majority of people working on a Jackson movie, the trials and tribulations being weathered by Peter, Fran and their business colleagues Richard, Tania and Jamie Selkirk, are unknown: the angst and the anxiety is never passed on.
‘One of the many things that I like about Pete,’ says Philippa Boyens, ‘is that he takes responsibility. This is his passion; his joy; his thing that he got everybody involved in, and he’s going to work to make it work.’
‘Peter has tremendous staying power,’ says Peter Nelson. ‘God knows, I’ve seen other film-makers who haven’t had it; despite considerable talent they have not been able to stay in this milieu. It takes a consummate level of many skills to survive and prosper as a film-maker but one also needs to be a leader, to keep motivating people, even when the chips are down, confirming them in the belief that this is going to happen and it’s going to happen well, and to communicate that fact not just through your actions but by who you are.’
‘What Pete understands,’ says Andrew Lesnie, ‘is that when anxiety starts flowing downhill on a project it begins compromising everybody’s work. The further downhill it goes, the more it begins impacting on people who can’t handle that sort of stress. Sharing too many anxieties in an effort to seek a solution inevitably becomes the actual crisis itself and the further it spreads round the production the more crises it generates. I admit to often being blissfully unaware of some of the things that go on because all I want to do is to put all my energy into making the movie; I don’t really want to put it into the politics of making a movie.’
Peter Nelson reflects on his client’s attributes: ‘He has many of the positive traits of his fellow countrymen, but he has achieved something that nobody even from New Zealand, with their “Can-do” Kiwi belief, has been able to do before.’
Realising that achievement involved the exercise of many skills and abilities – not the least of which was Peter’s willingness to get on his bike: cycling from one studio where the scene was being filmed of the hobbits having their cook-up in the hollow at Weathertop to the another studio where, in Orthanc Chamber, Ian McKellen and Christopher Lee were creating screen electricity with the face-off between Gandalf the Grey and Saruman the White.
We tried to get an alternating pattern set up so that I could keep both sets functioning at a reasonable speed; the whole thing was mathematically worked out. I would normally expect to shoot perhaps eight shots in a day, but on these particular days we scheduled five shots in Orthanc and five at Weathertop because the rest of the time I would be pedalling to and fro, which was tough, and sometimes when I began to get tired towards the end of the day, felt like a bit of a nightmare.
Ian McKellen recalls, ‘There was never a sense that time was running out or that the schedule or financial constraints might restrict the number of times you could shoot a scene. It was always: “We’ll get it
Sir Ian McKellen enjoying a little South Island rainfall.
right and not move on till we have…” Always reassuring.’
That is the Jackson way. Observe him directing on set and one quickly picks up on the mantra: ‘Good…Good…Let’s go again…Good…Let’s try another one…Good…One more…Yes, good…One more…Just one more for luck…’
Critics may say – have said of Peter – that there are maybe too many ‘One more for luck’ shots on a Jackson shoot and that, in fact, he overshoots.
We’ve come to be strong believers that overshooting is your friend! With hindsight, you look back and there were days where you’d done a lot of hard work and the scenes didn’t end up in the film and you think about the fact that perhaps you could have shot the film in two or three weeks less. It costs $1 million a week on a film like this, so that’s two or three million dollars less. But there are times when you need a scene – or a moment for a scene, need to plug a hole, stop up a gap – and then you are very glad that a bit of overshooting has given you a few more options in the cutting room.
Sometimes, footage would eventually be used in a completely different way to what had been envisaged. When, for example, Peter had originally filmed the final struggle against the forces of Mordor in the final moments before the Ring is destroyed, the script had called for Aragorn to do battle with Sauron in physical form. Whilst Tolkien never represents the Dark Lord during the narrative of The Lord of the Rings as anything other than a malevolent all-seeing Eye, there are references to earlier times when Sauron had a corporeal presence on Middle-earth.
The designs created for Sauron at the point when he is finally drawn out of Barad-dûr to face the returning king were a ‘super-charged’ version of his appearance during his fight with Elendil as depicted in the film’s prologue. The fight between Aragorn and the Dark Lord was filmed, but became a less enticing – and increasingly unnecessary – option.
When this final, one-on-one battle was conceived – long before we started shooting anything – one of our perceived problems stemming from our ‘Reluctant Hero’ image of Aragorn was that in building him up to a point where he was finally prepared to take on his kingly mantle and yet not have a showdown with the ultimate villain, who we’d also been building up, felt to us like a mistake.
By the time we had got to post-production on The Return of the King, which was where we reviewed the decision, it simply no longer felt right. Obviously, it wasn’t in the book but, at that stage, we were also brave enough – having had two successful films on our hands – that the success of The Return of the King no longer hinged on having an Aragorn/Sauron showdown at the end.
Also, with hindsight, it would have been an immensely disappointing climax because it would have been Aragorn re-fighting exactly the same battle as the one that we had seen in the prologue to Fellowship – it would have felt like we’d come all this way and yet hadn’t actually gone anywhere.
What ultimately became obvious to us – forty years after
it was obvious to Tolkien – is that the heroism of Aragorn is really not something ‘one-on-one’: the heroic Aragorn versus the big bad guy, Sauron. The true heroism of Aragorn and his companions is the fact that they are prepared to give up their lives to buy seconds of time for Frodo to fulfil his quest; and it is all the more courageous because they don’t know where Frodo is or even if he’s alive. And yet they still make that choice. So, that is the ultimate heroism and it’s pretty obvious really; it just took us a while to get there.
Even so, the sequence was not entirely wasted: during the mêlée in the hiatus before the Ring goes into the Crack of Doom, Aragorn is seen fighting with a huge cave troll. Why a troll? Well, trolls had featured in all three movies, but they are also large.
We went through hours and hours of film, culled out the best bits and basically we used the Sauron fight, except that we digitally pasted a huge cave-troll over the top of Sauron! That footage ultimately came in handy and some of it ended up in the movie even if it was in a way that we didn’t conceive at the time.
Ian McKellen says, ‘I never once saw Peter flag,’ but inevitably on such a relentlessly demanding shoot, tiredness finally began to set in…
Peter Jackson: A Film-maker’s Journey Page 51