The Lord Of The Rings Movies Left Out One Of The Most Important Parts Of The Books— And No, It’s Not What You Think
Skip to content With its first installment hitting the shelves in 1954, J.R.R Tolkien’s high-fantasy trilogy The Lord of the Rings would go on to be the founding text of modern high fantasy, with everything from its depiction of different mythical races, to its journey-based storytelling, to Tolkien’s cartographic techniques all becoming the base upon which future works in the genre would build. This is, to some extent, also true of the themes and values present in The Lord of the Rings, a story that champions humility, perseverance, honor, cooperation, sacrifice, the refusal of corrupting influences, and a stubborn insistence on seeing the beauty in small and everyday things. However, there is one arc in The Lord of the Rings novels that, despite being the perfect (and, in book canon, final and ultimate) embodiment of these values, is rarely spoken about in the fandom, having been excluded both from the Peter Jackson films and from any conversations around further film and TV coverage of Middle Earth.
The Scouring of the Shire is an arc that takes place in the latter half of The Lord of the Rings‘ third installment, The Return Of The King, following the destruction of Sauron and Aragorn’s ascension to the throne of Gondor (meaning that, in Peter Jackson’s films, this arc would have been sandwiched between Aragorn’s wedding to Arwen and Sam’s wedding to Rosie— an awkward placement which likely led to its omission from the films). Upon returning to the Shire, the Hobbits of the Fellowship are met with a nasty surprise— Saruman’s men had arrived in the shire already, and the influence of the corrupt wizard had begun to twist the Hobbits’ idyllic homeland beyond recognition. The events that follow are, in many ways, the culmination of the Hobbits’ respective arcs throughout the entirety of The Lord of the Rings, and serve to illustrate how the skills and worldviews they gained on their quests left them well-equipped to stand against evil.
After taking a leisurely return trip along the road towards The Shire, Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin find that they had lost a race they did not know they were running— and that Saruman had actually been gaining influence in The Shire through trade even before The Fellowship first departed for Bree. The fallen Wizard had spent the prior year gradually seizing power in the area, draining it of food and other resources and creating a police state. Strict efficiency rules and extreme censorship were enforced by roaming groups of Hobbit “Sheriffs”, who themselves were backed up by “Big Men” (i.e. standard-sized humans) brought in by Sauron as head enforcers. Violence, imprisonment, and the destruction of homes and land are common fates for any Hobbit who challenged the new power structure, with many of the Fellowship’s earlier Hobbit allies now locked away for acts of resistance.
As the Hobbits travel through The Shire in growing horror at what has happened to their home, both they and the audience are introduced to a side of the War of the Ring that the story had not yet fully addressed— the effect of Mordor’s influence on the lands, lives and minds of common people, and the everyday reality of life under Saruman’s evil rule. Until this point, the threats faced by Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin over their respective adventures have ranged from major warfare to nigh-impossible quests, and while these are true and daunting challenges, they are all involved either with the more magical and abstract manifestations of Mordor’s evil, or with the political allegiances of kings and the movements of huge armies.
The Scouring of the Shire, set after Sauron’s destruction and Saruman’s depowering and banishment, quite literally brings home the reality of Mordor’s evil, showing how it was experienced by everyday people through things like food shortages, the introduction of industrial pollution, constant fear, repression, and the destruction of community ties. It is through this immediate, relatable and inescapably mundane view of life under Saruman that the Hobbits of the Fellowship (and the readers) come to truly understand how high the stakes had been for the prior three novels’ adventures.
It is through the realization of, and interaction with, these true stakes of the War of the Ring that the trilogy’s final battles would take place— as, yes, The Lord of the Rings‘ true final fight takes place not at Mount Doom, Pelennor Fields, or Isengard, but in The Shire along the road leading to Bag End. Returning to their own lands bearing the tactical experience— and the mail, swords, and shields— of their time in the royal retinues of Rohan and Gondor respectively, Merry and Pippin waste no time in assessing the enemy forces occupying their home and, combining the knowledge gained among the upper echelons of military leadership with their past as the best rabble-rousers and general nuisances in all of The Shire, lead the downtrodden hobbits in retaking their home.
Roused to combat by the sound of the Horn of The Mark (that had been given to Merry by Eowyn for his bravery in battle), the people of The Shire follow Merry and Pippin’s commands, baiting Saruman’s enforcers into enclosed areas. Pinned in at all sides by walls of angry, hungry, determined Hobbits wielding clubs and knives, and surrounded from above by Hobbit archers wielding hunting bows, the Big Men were given the chance to surrender, and those who did not lay down their arms were overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
It is in the ensuing series of skirmishes that the hard-won experience of each Hobbit comes into play, as while Merry and Pippin handle the more tactical aspects of combat, Sam and Frodo address the moral side of warfare. Frodo, having experienced the worst extents of the corruptive influences of power and anger, urging the rebelling Hobbits to not kill their enemies unless necessary, while Sam, being most affected by the state of The Shire due to his previous role as Gardener, speaks unabashedly on the horror of what Saruman’s men have done and the need for some sort of retribution.
With each of the Fellowship’s Hobbits putting their new skills and wisdom towards the liberation of their home, Saruman’s fighters are gradually dispatched, clearing the way for the Hobbits to retake Bag End itself— where none other than Saruman (now going by the honestly bizarre pseudonym of “Sharkey”) is found to be hiding out after losing his powers. While Frodo goes against the more violent wishes of the gathered Hobbits and drives Saruman out the door and down the road with nothing but clever speech and a total refusal of fear, Saruman meets with a nasty fate more or less immediately as his sniveling servant Wormtongue, emboldened by Frodo’s words, fatally attacks the Wizard from behind.
The Scouring of the Shire plays yet another role in defining The Lord of the Rings‘ central themes and ideas— not only do the events of this arc illustrate both the true evils of Mordor and how the characters have grown to meet it, it also calls back into focus two themes that had been quietly present beneath the many epic struggles of the The Lord of the Rings trilogy— the power of the smallest and most common of people to change the world, and the incorruptible goodness, and absolute necessity, of good friends, good food, and time to eat and laugh together.
The epic battles, grueling treks and general sense of foreboding that make up The Lord of the Rings‘ more plot-heavy portions regularly pauses itself for the characters— especially the Hobbits, who seem to embody this theme within the story— to make whatever food they can, sit down, eat, and make small talk. Given the near-sacred value that the narrative seems to give these brief moments of simple and casual peace, it should be no surprise that the true final battle of The Lord of the Rings is in essence a battle by the common people of The Shire for food, community, and the right to rest.
Nonetheless, it can be seen clearly what Peter Jackson’s The Return Of The King aimed to do by cutting The Scouring of the Shire. Aside from the obvious benefits of shorter runtime, budget reduction and a more streamlined plot, the removal of The Scouring of the Shire keeps The Lord of the Rings‘ tone, aesthetic, and plot firmly in the ancient, ornate majesty that Jackson’s films portray so well. As Aragorn’s and Sam’s weddings blend directly into Frodo’s preparation to depart for the Undying Lands, the film’s focus remains solely on the victory of Aragorn and the defeat of Sauron, and the long-term consequences of those two conflicts — matters of royalty and magic.
It is clear that the interests of this telling of The Lord of the Rings lie more with kings, elves, and legends than with the inherent goodness of beer and stew, and in that context it might be argued that cutting The Scouring of the Shire was the right choice. Masterful filming, gorgeous props and an epic score create a film trilogy where wonder, magic, and sheer scale of scenery take center stage, and few fans would argue that the result is a wonderful take on Tolkien’s novels. But is this choice of focus truly enough to warrant the removal of an arc that so clearly illustrates one of the books’ central ideologies?