The Rings of Power season two review

How poor pacing and forced resolutions dampened the season two finale of Amazon Prime’s foray into Tolkien’s world

by Arya Sharma

Amazon Prime’s Tolkien inspired series, The Rings of Power, tends to receive completely unwarranted criticism. Incel sections of the fandom denigrate the choice to add more female characters and cast people of colour. Because, of course, elves, dwarves and hobbits living in various kingdoms makes sense, but them being black or brown? Completely unrealistic. A show that makes these choices needs to attract a new audience, one different from those who had already dismissed the show as woke nonsense from its very announcement. 

However, the series is so mired in deep Tolkien lore that it becomes confusing and sometimes boring unless you can pick up on every reference. This is a surefire way to push away new audiences. Tolkien’s world is full of rich lore, with countless backstories threaded through singular events. Too frequently, Rings of Power blatantly refers to Tolkien myths in superficial ways, dropping endless names and lore. This was a weak trend in season one and continues in season two, giving the show a dull, boring haze rather than the almost fairytale intrigue of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. 

It’s not all doom and gloom. Season two starts off a lot tighter than season one. All of the separate plots are clearly barrelling towards explosive conflicts. The trouble, again, is pacing. Consider the Stoors and the Stranger, who is more-or-less confirmed to be Gandalf. The finale rolls around whilst this plot is nowhere near developed enough to suddenly depict the (rather anti-) climactic showdown between the two wizards. The series cops out with a quick, lazy confrontation and too-neat resolution; the Stoors now become nomadic like the Harfoots, off to migrate to a new location. Nori inexplicably declares that her time accompanying the Stranger has come to an end. Why? I could not tell you. She doesn’t seem to know either, offering no reason other than some vague gesturing at fate and timing. 

The wizard plot is not the only one to suffer from poor pacing. We are reminded of Isildur and his subdued role, we see the Faithful relentlessly pursued by Ar-Pharazô​​​n’s new rule in Númenor, and the dwarves of Khazad-dûm​ have awakened the Balrog. Except, forget that last bit, the show isn’t quite ready for that yet, so just accept a dramatic, emotional confrontation and…nothing after it. The scene where King Durin gives up his ring and crowns his son, ultimately proving his strength and wisdom, is an example of good pacing and pay-off. Peter Mullan and Owain Arthur play a perfect father-son duo, capturing pride and love amid tussles for power. As the father jumps into shadow and flame, with some of the show’s most glorious visuals so far, we understand that the emotional dwarven arc has come to a natural, cathartic end. The plot and action, however, has not. It is here that I think the showrunners erred. This scene is undercut by the complete lack of further development. The dwarves rally themselves, somehow managing to send troops to Eregion, befuddling the show’s timeline, before returning to life as normal in the mountain. The next arc is indicated to focus on a new power struggle, this time between younger Durin and his newly introduced brother. So life in the mountain goes back to normal, as if there isn’t a creature of shadow and flame no longer slumbering beneath their feet. 

Galadriel’s character is perhaps the most frustrating of the lot, often suffering the role of a plot device. Her ring is constantly being passed around. The moment when Adar wears it, heals, and speaks about peace between Uruk and all other creatures is pulled off beautifully by Sam Hazeldine, an actor I am very sorry to see go. His Adar is sympathetic and inspiring, ultimately brought down by his own naive faith in peace and loyalty. He becomes almost a benevolent god, father of dark creatures, in contrast to the wrathful, fear-inducing Sauron. He allows RoP to introduce more intriguing and complex ideas. If the orcs and Uruks are so conscious, constantly castigated for the way they look and who they are, what are the implications for those who cut them down mercilessly in the name of good versus evil? Alas, Adar’s end was inevitable, since the series needs to allow the rifts between all manner of creatures widen. 

Galadriel is constantly placed in unlikely situations, ending up in enemy camps and conveniently holding and losing rings. Her character flickers between defiant lone-wolf to noble and moralising leader. Morfydd Clark does her best at squaring these two sides to her character, but the flitting back and forth between different plots, characters and locations means she does not have enough space to really flesh out a character that we are told is complex, but comes across as incomprehensible. My biggest wish for season three is that Galadriel’s character is permitted the slow, confident development the writers employed for her dark lord counterpart. 

Charlie Vickers’ Sauron is by far the best part of this series, and clearly the writers are most sure-footed when it comes to his characterisation. In this season, Sauron greets viewers in new form, purporting to be a blessed visitor from Valinor, here to oversee the greatest of elven smiths, Celebrimor, in his endeavour to create more rings. Through deft manipulation and artful deception, Sauron arranges the downfall of Eregion like a masterful conductor, sowing seeds of doubt and mistrust among its inhabitants. As the city falls, he swoops in to seize Adar’s army, but not before torturing Celebrimbor to death. His tragic, brutal ending omits some even more gruesome details from Tolkien’s work. Had they been included, they likely would have altered the tone of the show perhaps a bit too much. This scene is one of the darkest we have seen so far. Charles Edwards highlights Celebrimbor’s innate dignity and goodness against Sauron’s cruelty. We are left suitably shaken at his death, even as the pacing means we do not get much time to mourn him until an ending scene between the elves raising their swords, symbolising more battles yet to come. 

Sauron’s confrontation with Galadriel is deliberately referential to that in the season one finale. Sadly, it does not quite capture the drama and frenetic energy of the first one. This is despite powerful performances from Vickers and Clark, whose on-screen chemistry is a wonderful draw of the series. It is clear that, even as Galadriel desperately tries to ignore her interest, the two understand each other very well. If only the series could give them more time and space to have more complex confrontations, rather than a gimmicky sword-crown fight at the end. 

Still, Vickers and Clark pull it off, and there are sparks of something truly brilliant as Sauron flits through illusions, appearing as Halbrand, Celembrimbor, and even Galadriel herself; look, he seems to be saying, look at how alike we are. Despite an awkward line from Galadriel (“heal yourself” was a bit of an eye-roller), Sauron delivers one of the best lines of the series. When Galadriel accuses him of having manoeuvred all the pieces into place and controlling everything, Sauron glances at her in clear confusion and denial. “The road goes ever-winding,” he states, “not even I can see all its paths.” Here, the writers hit two birds with one stone. The line references Tolkien’s writing, but on its own it is still hugely impactful. Sauron is not all-knowing. He is not impervious to the actions of others; he can, therefore, be defeated. This is a great set-up for what is to come, but also adds to the incredibly human portrait of Sauron that Vickers is embodying. This is Sauron on the rise, still conflicted about his path and how to bring about the world as he wishes to see it. As much as Galadriel can be influenced by him, the opposite is also true. That, “I can change him, I swear” tension from the first season continues thrumming under the surface of their interactions. That’s not to say there’s ever any doubt that Sauron will continue on his own path, but there is clearly some confusion in his mind about the best way to go about creating it. 

There are still several moments I haven’t really touched on - and this goes to show that the finale was trying to tie up far too many ends. Why do that when you still have more seasons to play with, I do not know. For instance, Isildur and Estrid’s completely random and underdeveloped romance comes to a dull end, as Nú​​menoreans arrive in Pelargir to make it a colony and its inhabitants their workforce. There is no attempt to build necessary suspense; Isildur instantly learns that Miriel has been overthrown and that Ar-Pharazon is the new ruler. Again, this is rushed writing for one of the more important characters in the show. If anyone needs more time and space for development, it is Isildur. We have seen a shoddy sketch of his coming of age, a too-quick transition from boy to man. We need more of this, and hopefully that is to come in the following season, as he leaves behind the worried inhabitants of Pelargir for a Nú​menor on the brink of total collapse. Other moments include the entire character of Tom Bombadil, who was actually quite pleasant, the dark wizard’s whole shebang (Saruman, a blue wizard, who knows?), and so on. Overall, the series felt a lot like this review and my thoughts do; this happened and then that, oh yeah, and remember that thing and the other one, well forget about that for now, oh, and then…

With highs and lows, season two of The Rings of Power was largely better than the first. However, whilst the finale of season one was its best episode, season two’s was its worst, troubled by rushed pacing and too-few episodes. There are still a few kinks to be smoothed out for season three, but the series is undoubtedly delivering some brilliant moments for fans to add to the Tolkien-verse.