If you’re not already a fan of the books, or the movies, you won’t have a clue what’s going on in Charlie Ross’ One-Man Lord of the Rings act. Based on the films, he moves speedily through over 11 hours of footage. But it’s a fast, fun trip for anyone nostalgic for the days when these movies meant everything.
For me, they did. I’d loved J.R.R. Tolkien’s books since I read them all for the first time in the third grade. My best friend, who I had drifted apart from by the time Peter Jackson was making the movies, loved the books too. Obsessing over the films, waiting for them to come out, and analyzing every little detail filled me with a purpose I badly needed. The Lord of the Rings was my constant companion. I wanted to live in that world, where honor and valor meant everything and friendship meant staying, no matter what. And okay, yes, I also wanted to live in a world where every guy looked like Orlando Bloom. Sue me.
During Thursday’s opening performance, Ross had a few bits of mic trouble that broke up his rhythm, but I’m assuming that’s all worked out. He’s an engaging, physical performer, alone on the stage in a dark jumpsuit and those hideous frog shoes, armed with nothing except a near-perfect recall and a talent for vocal impersonation (his Gollum is great, almost like Andy Serkis was there).
When all this started in 2004, Ross, for all intents and purposes, was just a dork with a dream. His kindness shows in the gentle ribbing he inserts within the context of the story, observational jokes that will feel sound familiar because you’ve probably made or read some variation of them over the years (“How can this be? Artistic license. That’s why we have all Liv Tyler and no Tom Bombadil,” he says at one point, addressing a major complaint). It’s a hybrid of straight storytelling and parody born of deep caring.
This show made me happy, and I can’t say that about most of the things I see. Don’t go, if you already don’t love the source material. But if you do, or if you ever did, One-Man is a wonderful reminder of how good we had it, right up until the final false ending.