Tolkien Tuesdays: The Sadness of Ian McKellen
The famed British actor brings out the rich pathos of Gandalf, one of Tolkien's finest creations.
Welcome to Tolkien Tuesdays, where I talk about various things that I love about the lore and writings of Tolkien, whether in a chapter reading or a character study or an essay. I hope you enjoy reading these ruminations as much as I enjoy writing them!
On this week’s edition of Tolkien Tuesday, I want to pay some attention to Ian McKellen, particularly his performance in the role of Gandalf. By this point, it’s pretty much universally agreed that McKellen simply is Gandalf (no offense to John Huston or any of the others who have or will ever play everyone’s favorite fantasy wizard). He just slips so easily into the role and, from the moment that he appears in The Fellowship of the Ring driving a cart to the moment when he departs from the Grey Havens with Frodo, Bilbo, Galadriel, and the rest, he embodies so many of the traits that make him such a key part of Tolkien’s work.
At the same time, he also adds something of his own to the role and, to my mind, the most important thing that he adds is a sense of sorrow and sadness. To be sure, the Gandalf of Tolkien’s novel has something of this as well but, as one of the larger-than-life characters which the hobbits encounter, he sometimes seems beyond such things as purely human emotion, particularly once he sacrifices his life facing the Balrog and becomes Gandalf the White. Thanks to McKellen’s soulful performance, however, we get a more human interpretation of the character and this, I think, is to the films’ benefit.
No scene exemplifies McKellen’s ability to convey sadness better than the climax of the Council of Elrond. As the various members of the Council fall to squabbling as to who should be the one to take the Ring–or even if it should be destroyed at all, as Boromir constantly asks–Frodo steps forth and, shouting to make himself heard over the din, proclaims that he will take it, even though he does not know the way. It is at this moment that the camera dwells in close-up on Gandalf’s face, and McKellen allows us to see the profound grief that washes through Gandalf. By this point, it’s clear that he has no desire to make Frodo undertake such a perilous journey, particularly given how much the young hobbit has already endured at the hands of the Nazgûl, even as he no doubt realizes that this is precisely what makes him the best person to do so.
It’s worth dwelling for a moment on how effectively McKellen uses his face to convey, in just a brief sliver of screen time, the depth and complexity of Gandalf’s feeling. Of those attending the Council, it is Gandalf who has the most personal investment in the hobbits, and so Frodo’s volunteering, while inevitable, still strikes him as a wound. You can see it in the way that his eyes flutter closed, the barest spasm of pain that flickers through his cheek muscles. You can see it as he slowly turns around, the sadness quickly turning into something more akin to acceptance, or perhaps resignation, as he quickly makes a series of mental decisions regarding what he, Gandalf, will do now that Frodo has chosen to take the Ring. It’s a master class in cinematic performance, and McKellen, trained in the theater as he is, knows how to make the most out of his face, when to let expression convey that which words cannot.
As Gandalf the Grey, McKellen perfectly captures the sense of a being who has seen much sadness, betrayal, and darkness in his time walking Middle-earth in the guise of an old man. At the same time, he has also seen the joy and steadfastness of such races as the hobbits, who so excel at thwarting the expectations that others have of them. Little of this is stated explicitly, of course, but it is nevertheless there in the nuances of McKellen’s performance, the way that he sometimes has those moments of sadness (as at the Council) and joy (as when he sets off the fireworks for Bilbo’s birthday).
All of which isn’t to say that McKellen isn’t just as excellent when he makes the transformation from Gandalf the Grey to Gandalf the White. If anything, his performance there is even more subtle and subdued. His transformation into a being of even greater power isn’t merely cosmetic; as he proves in his confrontations with Saruman, he is of an entirely different order now, capable of defeating one who was once his superior on the White Council. Though hardly invincible–as his encounter with the Witch-king in Minas Tirith makes clear–he nevertheless shines like a beacon for the free peoples of Middle-earth, and it’s to McKellen’s credit that we, in the audience, feel as inspired as the characters.
For me, one of Gandalf the White’s best scenes is the moment when, sitting alone with Pippin in Minas Tirith, he begins to explain to Pippin what death is like but, desiring to give the young hobbit the strength he needs to endure the challenges to come, he speaks of it as a beginning rather than en ending, filled with its own beauty. Even here, though, there is pity mingled with sorrow, as Gandalf’s face makes clear. How could it be otherwise, when he already knows what death is, having perished during his fight with the Balrog? Yet even as there is sadness there is also a glimmer of the old Gandalf’s mirth, and his eyes twinkle as he concludes by agreeing with Pippin that, ultimately, death doesn’t seem so bad.
Ultimately, of course, Gandalf survives and goes to the Grey Havens, and in this wrenching scene McKellen delivers the perfect reading of Gandalf's parting words of wisdom: “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.” This injunction is, I think, the best thing that Tolkien ever wrote and, as spoken in McKellen’s rich tones, it comforts us even as it also devastates us. No moment more perfectly crystallizes the actor’s ability to bring out the ineffable sadness, and joy, of Gandalf than this one.
To put it simply: Ian McKellen gifted us with a performance for the ages. His Gandalf will forever serve as an example of what an actor can and should do to bring Tolkien’s words to the screen.