Adapting J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth for the screen is a lot like setting off from the Shire: you might have a map, but the journey is full of surprises, detours, and passionate debates about the “right” path. Over the past two decades, filmmakers and showrunners have faced the same challenge: how do you make Tolkien’s vast, mythic world feel real and relatable for both longtime fans and curious newcomers?
Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, which came out between 2001 and 2003, not only put fantasy into the mainstream but reimagined what blockbuster storytelling could be. And for many, it was an awakening. Not everyone was an instantaneous convert, however. Film critic Charles Bramesco, for instance, didn’t have a fantasy background.
He’d avoided Dungeons & Dragons and never read Tolkien as a child. Viewing The Fellowship of the Ring for the first time as an adult, he was finding it heavy and confusing—names, locations, and background pouring in more quickly than he could digest.
But with the movies unfolding, particularly with the emotional depth of The Two Towers and The Return of the King, something clicked. Bramesco, like many others, caught himself suddenly and unexpectedly affected. Even as an outsider, he grew to appreciate the way Jackson had brought “unfilmable” territory alive and intimate and fundamentally human.
But of course, Jackson’s vision—adored is just one interpretation of Middle-earth. When Amazon premiered The Rings of Power, the creative challenge changed: how do you create new stories within Tolkien’s world, thousands of years before the events most audiences know, and still make it feel like Middle-earth?
That tension between rich lore and broad accessibility is at the forefront of the show. TV critic Dylan Roth, never having completed a Tolkien novel, was pulled into The Rings of Power even though he wasn’t a fantasy fanatic. He enjoyed the epic scope and cinematic look, and responded to familiar names and archetypes, even when the history that supported them was not.
On the flip side, Tolkien devotee Jenna Kass—who most likely could recite Númenórean royal lineages in her sleep—had her doubts. She pointed out that the show condenses centuries of history into easy-to-digest flashbacks and takes creative liberties with decisions that, while great for drama, can be frustrating for die-hards. For her, mixing and matching canon and artistic license at times jarred.
One of the most buzzed-about developments is the retconning of Galadriel as a battle-hardened warrior on an individual quest for justice. For some audiences, it gives added depth and agency to a character long perceived as distant and otherworldly. For others, it simplifies an infinitely more nuanced figure from the books. And with the addition of new elements such as the Harfoots (proto-Hobbits) and a mysterious Stranger from the heavens, the show decidedly sets out to entice those experiencing Middle-earth for the first time. As Kass says, The Rings of Power isn’t exactly made for the diehards—but if you approach it as a high-budget fantasy adventure with familiar roots, there’s still much to enjoy.
Then there’s The Lord of the Rings: War of the Rohirrim, which went even more boldly. Out in January 2025, this animated film delves into Tolkien’s appendices to explain the tale of Helm Hammerhand, the legendary King of Rohan. But it’s his daughter, Héra—an expanded-on character developed for the film—who gets top billing. Released in a stylized anime style, the movie is able to capture the essence of Jackson’s Middle-earth while establishing a visual identity of its own.
Reviewer Janie Walenda complimented the film’s energetic action and dramatic art style, although she did find that the more subdued, emotional scenes sometimes seemed a bit stilted. Nevertheless, War of the Rohirrim brings something new: a real-world story of leadership, sacrifice, and survival from Héra’s point of view. She isn’t your usual “strong female lead”—she is courageous, empathetic, and very human. She finds strength in her dedication to her people, not in fighting scenes. Walenda, who doesn’t count herself as a hard-core fantasy buff, still found the film compelling and a worthwhile journey into Middle-earth.
What becomes apparent through all these interpretations is that Middle-earth is still a living, breathing world on television. Each new venture comes to the same fork in the road: remain loyal to Tolkien’s detailed mythology, or make artistic leaps to engage contemporary audiences? The canon/reinvention debate isn’t vanishing anytime soon. But that ongoing conversation is part of what makes Middle-earth so enduring—it invites us in, encourages different interpretations, and keeps inspiring new generations of storytellers and fans.
Whether you’re someone who knows every Elvish phrase by heart or just stumbled into Middle-earth out of curiosity, there’s something magical about seeing this world come to life again and again.