Lord Of The Rings taught Hollywood the wrong lessons for 25 years

Fantasy films have become remarkably good at looking epic. Massive armies. Ancient prophecies. Sprawling maps. Elaborate mythology. Increasingly dense lore. For much of the past 25 years, Hollywood has treated bigger worlds and larger spectacles as the clearest path to the next great fantasy blockbuster.

But if you take a closer look at the movie that started the trend, you’ll find its success had nothing to do with its epic scale in the first place.

When The Fellowship of the Ring premiered in 2001, it introduced moviegoers to hobbits, elves, dwarves, wizards, and one of the richest fantasy worlds ever imagined. Across three movies, Peter Jackson’s adaptation became one of the defining cinematic achievements of the 21st century, winning 17 Academy Awards and changing how Hollywood viewed fantasy. The problem is, many studios copied what made The Lord of the Rings look successful instead of what actually made it successful.

Films like Eragon, Warcraft, Seventh Son, and even The Golden Compass arrived promising sprawling mythologies and expansive fantasy worlds. More recently, TV shows like The Rings of Power and The Wheel of Time have invested heavily in elaborate lore and spectacular visuals. Even Jackson himself wasn’t immune. The Hobbit trilogy expanded one short novel into three increasingly effects-driven films that often emphasized scale over intimacy.

Hollywood assumed audiences fell in love with The Lord of the Rings because it featured massive armies, ancient histories, and a world unlike our own. That wasn’t the lesson audiences should have taken from the original trilogy. Jackson understood audiences wouldn’t care about Middle-earth simply because it was beautiful. They had to want to live there. Working with an army of artisans and craftspeople, he spent the time to make sure they did.

Before The Fellowship of the Ring asks audiences to care about the fate of Middle-earth, it spends remarkably little time advancing the plot and a great deal of time simply letting viewers enjoy living in its world. We wander through the Shire as Gandalf arrives with fireworks for Bilbo’s (Ian Holm) birthday. You see that Merry (Dominic Monaghan) and Pippin (Billy Boyd) love a little mischief.

The elven stronghold of Rivendell isn’t just where exposition happens. Elrond’s hidden refuge feels so peaceful that part of you wishes the story would stay there a little longer. Boromir (Sean Bean) isn’t introduced as a tragic hero. He becomes one because the film lets audiences see his conflict. Even Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen) spends much of the movie quietly earning trust instead of announcing his destiny. Little of this advances the story, instead it makes Middle-earth feel inhabited. Only then does Jackson ask audiences to fight for it.

That’s why the trilogy’s biggest action sequences remain so powerful. They aren’t memorable simply because they’re expertly staged and visually stunning. They’re memorable because they pay off character journeys audiences have spent hours investing in. Helm’s Deep is where Théoden (Bernard Hill) reclaims both his kingdom and himself. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields is where Éowyn (Miranda Otto) refuses to accept the future others have chosen for her. Mount Doom is where Samwise Gamgee (Sean Astin) proves just how far friendship can carry someone.

Every unforgettable set piece lands because Jackson made audiences care about the people long before he asked them to care about the outcome. That’s where Hollywood spent the next 25 years copying the wrong part of the movies. It’s easy to imitate scale. It’s much harder to recreate humanity.

Image: New Line Cinema

That’s why The Lord of the Rings remains the standard every fantasy blockbuster is still measured against. People didn’t return for each successive film because Helm’s Deep featured thousands of Uruk-hai. They came back because Sam carried Frodo. Because Boromir died trying to save Merry and Pippin. Because Aragorn finally became the king everyone else already believed he could be.

Hollywood spent 25 years trying to recreate the scale of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. What it should have been chasing all along was its humanity.