In this blog post, we explore the deeper meaning of why fantasy, through the film The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, conveys a message of ‘hope’ that helps us endure difficult realities, rather than being a genre that escapes reality.

Fantasy films are a genre that shows ‘hope’!

In my view, the fantasy film genre is one that shows ‘hope’. When we hold hope, it signifies ‘happiness’, and in that sense, happiness is closely tied to love. Hope becomes happiness, love, and can also be understood as meaning justice, goodness, and beauty. I believe a fantasy film is truly a ‘good’ fantasy film precisely when it embodies these ‘good’ values.
Why is that? One reason lies in the nature of fantasy films. They follow the pleasure principle rather than the reality principle. The pleasure principle prioritizes the emotional over the rational, making ideas born of exceptional imagination crucial in fantasy films. However, this imagination must not be based on a world completely detached from reality; above all, it must be grounded in reality. In other words, imagination must avoid the negative effect of fantasy films—‘escapism’—and instead, while depicting harsh realities, show ‘hope’ that such realities can be overcome. Fantasy films based solely on simple imagination, lacking a message of hope and merely contrasting good and evil through the appearance of peculiar monsters or alien lifeforms, only bring audiences a sense of emptiness and futility.
The primary audience for fantasy films is children. Therefore, when writing a fantasy film’s screenplay, one cannot overlook the need to provide hope to growing children. Children only feel their world is safe when under adult protection. Unfortunately, due to its patriarchal nature, Korean society seems to view children as beings who must fear adults rather than as objects of respect. The adults responsible for children’s safety actually become the source of primal fear. Overcoming adults—the very source of fear—can itself become a source of hope for children. The real world is one only adults can govern, and children feel their safety is guaranteed only when they do as adults tell them. If a child denies reality, obsesses over toys, and fixates on fantasy games or monster movies that destroy this world, there’s a strong risk that their worldview is already filled with fear and anxiety. For such children, destroying the world built by adults—reality itself—becomes the only ‘wrong’ hope left.

True hope lies in encountering a good guide in life!

For this reason, fantasy films must increasingly speak of hope that is truly hopeful. Ultimately, what fantasy films should aim for is to make us realize that humans are not inherently born with an evil nature—even if they were—and that in fact, through the purity of children, everyone can become good friends. Reality is not an object to escape or destroy, but a world we must affirm and accept, gradually transforming it into something beautiful. In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo and the Hobbits, who are essentially the protagonists, all embody the qualities of children. Their souls are pure and untainted, which is why they are entrusted with the immense responsibility of carrying the One Ring, the symbol of greed. Even the One Ring, symbolizing ultimate evil, can never subdue Frodo’s pure soul. Saruman and his followers are greedy, ‘evil’ beings, objects of fear. Yet throughout the film, the message flows that the children (the Hobbits) are always protected by friends (Gandalf, Aragorn, etc.) who keep them safe from the ‘evil’ things, and it is thanks to these friends that they can preserve purity, justice, and goodness.

The Correlation Between Realistic Hope and Purity, Justice, and Love

As mentioned earlier, the hope depicted in fantasy films must be realistic. Fantasy films should give growing children dreams and hope. Here, the word ‘hope’ encompasses all meanings of purity, happiness, beauty, goodness, justice, and love. Children do not simply exist as children; they are also the very image of us adults. Adults carry within their hearts the childlike purity, justice, and love. No matter how many difficult experiences they endure or how much knowledge they accumulate as they grow, this inherent human purity remains unchanged. For this reason, I disagree with the notion that fantasy films are a genre solely for children or immature adults. Rather, fantasy films are a genre for everyone, teaching what universal humanity should aspire to.
It is precisely the role of fantasy films to awaken these feelings of purity. Have today’s adults ever not been children? Through this type of film, adults can draw out their latent purity to confront ‘evil’ and, through that, dream a realistic ‘dream’ of everyone living happily together. In reality, ‘evil’ can manifest as selfish individuals who care only for their own greed, or as politicians and businesspeople blinded by self-interest. Their emergence was inevitable in a capitalist society. Now, the challenge for adults is how to bridge the gap with them and find a harmonious way to coexist with those blinded by ‘money’.
In The Lord of the Rings, power and wealth do not symbolize happiness, and the protagonist Frodo was a hobbit far removed from such things. He sought to sacrifice himself solely for the happy lives of all the races of Middle-earth, including his own peaceful village, the Shire. Sam’s words carry profound meaning: “There are many bad things in the world, but there are far more good things, and it’s worth fighting for them.” The “good things” Sam speaks of also signify good friends and the life shared with them. The film effectively shows that true happiness cannot be attained through money or power (the One Ring), but only by gaining true friends and guides in one’s life. The Lord of the Rings is a film that finds future ‘hope’ through the preciousness of brotherhood and the preciousness of life lived together (the weak and the strong, children and adults).
‘Hope’ is the attitude of pursuing a happy life. And that happiness is not just my own happiness, but lies in life lived together. That life is one grounded in brotherhood. Therefore, fantasy films must show that a happy life based on brotherhood is not confined to the fantasy world but is also possible in reality—it must offer this ‘hope’. When they do so, fantasy films can transcend their negative characteristic of ‘escapism’ and embrace the positive trait of ‘overcoming reality’. This allows them to be loved by diverse age groups, including children.

Overcoming existential anxiety through ‘brotherhood’!

In the film ‘The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers’, we see the protagonists grappling with the conflict between the two forms of good and evil existing within themselves. To escape the anxiety stemming from separation—that is, loneliness—they are destined to choose one of the two.
Gollum is a prime example. Originally a Hobbit named Sméagol, he became a being harboring an evil form due to the power of the One Ring. What was the greatest force that allowed Gollum to exist for hundreds of years without dying? An ordinary human, or even an ordinary Hobbit, might have died quickly from loneliness alone. But he possessed an endless greed for the Ring. This intense craving for the Ring actually made him unable to die. What is greed? It is like pouring water into a bottomless pit—an endless effort to satisfy a desire that can never be fulfilled, ultimately exhausting the person. Thus, for such a Gollum, ‘self’ ceases to exist. One blinded by greed easily surrenders even the place within themselves where the self should reside. Having lost his self in this way, Gollum pitied his own monstrous state. When he met a friend who reached out to him—Frodo—he rediscovered his lost self, ‘Smeagol’. Despite Sam’s protests, Frodo called him Smeagol and eventually trusted him as his guide, following him on the journey.
If Frodo had Sam, then Gollum had his only friend in Sam. Frodo’s mission was to take the One Ring to Mordor and destroy it. But that task was far from easy. What was the One Ring? Was it not greed itself? Possessing the Ring stirred the greed within one’s heart, making rational judgment impossible. The closer they got to Mordor, the more arduous the journey became, and the more Frodo lost himself to the Ring. His voice grew sharp, and a murderous glint appeared in his eyes. When he regained his senses, he desperately wanted to give up everything. At such times, his friend Sam would say to him.

“Many bad things happen in the world. But when new days come and the sun shines brightly, those bad things become nothing but shadows or darkness, all part of the past. There are also many good things in the world. Fighting for them is a worthwhile endeavor.”

Frodo could never have accomplished this mission alone from the very beginning. Since he had to carry the One Ring, he could never be free from greed. In contrast, Sam, who was free from the One Ring—that is, free from greed—could maintain his composure.
Without his friend Sam, Frodo would have failed his mission or abandoned the journey midway. This is a poignant example showing how essential a true friend is on our life’s journey.
The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers centers on Saruman awakening the Uruk-hai warriors from the underworld and plotting to destroy the Kingdom of Rohan. King Théoden of Rohan has his healthy spirit stolen by Saruman. He banishes his nephew and cannot grieve even when his only son dies. He cannot protect his people from the ruthless Orcs, and the kingdom steadily descends into ruin. Then Gandalf, King Théoden’s friend, appears. Though believed dead in the first film, Gandalf has returned as the White Wizard to aid the Fellowship. Now he stands before his old friend, King Théoden, to help him. Having no true friends save for the treacherous Gríma Wormtongue, King Théoden initially fails to recognize his friend. Yet the powerful sunlight Gandalf radiates drives away the darkness surrounding him, helping the King rediscover his lost self. Even when the King refuses his heartfelt advice to request reinforcements for his people, Gandalf—who is, in truth, a friend to all races—sets out himself on the long journey to bring reinforcements for him and his people.
As the enemy’s attack looms, King Théoden is urged once more by Aragorn to request reinforcements. Yet the king refuses, declaring they are alone, citing his failure to be a good friend to others. To Aragorn’s eyes, the people of Rohan appear filled with fear and sorrow. Appearing before them, filled with fear, are well-trained Elven warriors. The fear filling the screen transforms once more into hope and courage, showing that Rohan is no longer alone. Yet, overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught of enemies, the fortress is eventually overrun, and King Théoden is once again seized by despair. At this moment, a single phrase from his companion, Aragorn, reignites hope. “I will be with you to the end. I will follow you wherever you go.” No words could give greater courage to the king, whose will to fight was broken and who faced death. We fear death not for death itself, but because we feel a terrible loneliness in the moment of dying. I don’t know if the analogy is apt, but the motive for suicide pacts might be precisely this reason.

The expansive concept of ‘brotherhood’ that even embraces nature!

This brotherhood, as depicted in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, reaches its climax in the scene where a lost friend returns. The moment when a friend thought dead comes back to life at the decisive hour, and the friend thought departed reappears to aid him, suggests we are no longer alone, that we are not lonely.
Gandalf, who was thought to have died fighting the ancient demon Balrog at the end of the first film, returns in the second film, more reliable than ever, to stand by his friends. He returns twice at the decisive moment when the Rohan Empire is crumbling: first as the White Wizard to restore King Théoden’s lost spirit, and again to lead the Rohirrim cavalry to aid the Ring Fellowship in peril. Having defeated the Dark Lord, transcended death, and been resurrected, he now possesses a power of good strong enough to oppose the forces of evil. He brings a new light of hope to the land of Rohan, which had lost all hope, by doing things beyond human power: awakening those blinded by greed, soothing the hearts of the forsaken to help their friends, and more. Though he transcends human limitations, he is not like Saruman who uses or seeks to eliminate humans. Rather, he is a Jesus-like being who loves and seeks to help them. In this sense, he closely resembles the familiar, heroic characters often seen in action fantasy films—characters like Superman or Neo from The Matrix. He is the embodiment of ‘hope’ itself, always present and returning to our side when we face desperate situations to save us.
If Gandalf served as the very embodiment of ‘hope’ and a spiritual pillar for the Fellowship of the Ring, then for Frodo, the practical help from his Hobbit friends Sam, Merry, and Pippin played a crucial role. Through the affectionate friendship shown by the Hobbits, we might realize that hope is possible when we give our best effort in real life, and that such best effort is achievable when we have reliable friends by our side. The scene where Merry and Pippin persuade the Ents of the forest to help their friends—enabling Frodo to safely carry the Ring and Aragorn to defend the Kingdom of Rohan from Saruman—ultimately transformed despair into hope.

“My friends are out there. They cannot fight alone. How can you be indifferent? You are part of this world too!”

As Pippin said, we cannot live alone, and this is especially true when fighting against ‘evil’. This reminder that each of us is part of this world broadens the concept of brotherhood, making us reconsider the preciousness of all life on this planet. This attempt to transcend the concept of brotherhood beyond the good and evil within humans and ultimately apply it to all living beings is well illustrated in the film ‘Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind’. The insects of the Sea of Corruption, once seen as a threat to humanity’s survival and targets for extermination, are beings protecting the nature (the forest of the Sea of Corruption in the film) destroyed by foolish humanity. It is a self-evident truth that without nature, humanity cannot survive. The conflicts among humans, each claiming to represent good or evil, are insignificant when viewed from the macro perspective of humanity’s survival. Princess Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind rebukes humanity’s selfishness and folly, emphasizing a brotherhood that transcends good and evil and encompasses all life on Earth.

“You drink water too! Do you know who keeps it clean? The insects of the Sea of Corruption purify the rivers and lakes polluted by humans! And yet you still want to burn the forest? The insects are protecting the world!”

Nausicaä’s impassioned voice, urging humans, “Don’t you drink water too?”, evokes the very tone Pippin used when persuading the forest god Ent, insisting, “You are part of this world too.” As Pippin said, we are all part of this world. And ultimately, we are one. Though each of us (humans as humans, nature as nature) is divided within this world, we are not separate parts of a whole. Rather, the parts harmoniously form a single whole. Human selfishness arises from distinguishing and clinging to these things, from viewing nature not through a brotherly lens but as something to be discriminated against and exploited. That such selfishness is the ‘evil’ within humanity goes without saying.

Speaking of hope and love is the duty of fantasy films!

The campus in April, where vibrant flowers bloom brightly and butterflies flit about. I feel grateful for the things that breathe life into us, weary from daily routines. Because they exist, I, too, as a human, am happy. Like the yellow butterfly that gave ‘hope to the flowers,’ it is this brotherhood that always gives me hope. Brotherhood is the heart that loves nature, the heart for things seemingly unrelated to my life, and the resolve to protect them, following that childhood innocence. Love is what makes things like goodness, beauty, justice, and happiness worth protecting, and the foundation of this love is brotherhood. Therefore, fantasy films that deliciously capture these values can give us, weary from harsh reality, the beauty of everyday life and hope for living. Reality is equally harsh not only to adults but also to growing children. If a two-hour screening can enrich my day today, a child’s future, or the life of the marginalized, then that role should naturally fall to fantasy films. It is also the duty of fantasy films.