Thanks for the further quotation, rs, about
Sam's salt; it reinforces the points from both of us that there's really
no point in trying to explain these "isms" by reference to the
books.
Where in
the Shire would there be a salt lake or mine, or has it acquired a coastline perhaps?
And why does salt hold a special nostalgic place in the hearts of
hobbits? One could go on asking........
I've mentioned before that when I introduced a friend to the superb opening of TTT he was as impressed as I always am, until the salt appeared. Then it was: "what was that all about?", "how can salt, of all things, be special to a place, be reminiscent of it?", "what a load of nonsense!", "how can the same guy produce a superb start like that, and then that triviality?", and he lost interest and I had to switch off the player. That's what the salt does from a strictly film point of view, and it's the sort of reaction that any of the other "isms" could easily produce. They clash within the film, and to those who know the books, they clash with the "real" story.
The "defence", of finding obscure links with the books, really doesn't work. It is one that could indeed be used to justify all manner of talking geraniums and malevolent pebbles. It would be much better, more realistic, if people who like the "isms" simply admitted that they were solely due to the personal delectations of Mr Jackson. I doubt if he would claim more for them than that, though no-one has yet found the quotations from him, about them, that I've enquired for.
Aragil: I've taken a more careful look at the moth scene now, and still feel about it the same way as rs did when first seeing it: baffled as to what is meant to be going on, and mildly amused by the silliness of the whole thing. As the moth flies up from the delvings, conveniently not being attracted, typically moth-like, to the lights, it looks like a cross between a bat and a pterodactyl; when it sits patiently on
Gandalf's hand it looks like a spider with wings more like those of a diptera than a lepidoptera, though I am open to hearing which species of the latter it actually is! It then flutters away, again avoiding the lights, and takes - how long? - to find the nearest convenient eagle, avoids being snapped up by the eagle as a morsel, conveys its message, then disappears into PJ's record book. How emotional and meaningful is that? It's simply a bit of PJ's fun, and none the worse for that.
simbelmyne: I've suggested the solution to the
Radagast/moth "problem" before: don't have an intermediary at all. Surely any audience that would accept a moth, of all things, without a qualm or a query, would accept that an eagle happened to be flying past, at a height much more appropriate to
eagles than to moths, and that Gandalf managed to attract its attention as easily as he was able to grab the moth?
About Radagast's role, it's not exactly the thing from the books that is clearest in my memory right now, but I would have thought the answer was that he didn't know the level of danger that Gandalf was in. He was simply doing what came most naturally to him, using his knowledge of wild life to gather as much information as he could, and taking action on it as he thought best.