Rings Of Power isn’t playing coy about the focus of “Halls Of Stone.” The Dwarves are the canary in the coal mine for the problems permeating Middle-earth, and their waning connection to the mountain signals a demise only the Rings of Power can prevent. But everything has a cost, and the immediate benefits of Ring-bearing require gold on delivery.
King Durin’s first day as Ring-bearer transforms the bearded monarch into a supernatural stud finder with X-ray vision but for mountains, pointing to potential light shafts in the wall with precision accuracy. Durin’s mountain sense provides a counterpoint to the Ring’s power over the Elves, shown in this episode through Gil-Galad’s dead-fish daydream and what’s-her-face’s testing of the Nine (more on that later). But in the show’s opening scenes, Durin is feeling himself. Ring-bearers tend to suffer the weight of the Ring more than their actions, and King Durin is no different. The Dwarves’ problems are over, thanks to him. “At last, it is daybreak once more in our mountain,” King Durin proclaims with the faintest echo of Reagan’s “Morning In America” speech. The Reagan comparisons don’t stop there, considering the deregulation field day Durin is about to go on.
Straining this Reagan metaphor into the Gipper’s successor’s presidency, the Elves and Dwarves have their own little Malta Summit, where Celebrimbor and Dwarvish door-maker Narvi trade barbs, present the Doors of Durin, and end their Cold War (“Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this Hall of Stone.” Okay. We’re done.) Cementing the coming together of these hostile races, the Doors of Durin were made in collaboration. Dwarves made the door, and Celebrimbor had an excuse to show off the mithril-laced lettering that would wow the Fellowship of the Ring in 6,000 years. Speak “friend” and enter—we know the bit. Let’s get to Annatar and Celebrimbor bickering like Niles and Frasier over who’s at fault for not securing a dinner reservation.
A wedge is growing between Annatar and Celebrimbor over the always-controversial “Rings for Men?!” topic. You see, in his effortless manipulation, Annatar reminds Celebrimbor what a great dude the Lord of Gifts is because he wants to get Men some Rings, which would help them, sure, but almost definitely corrupt them. “Rings for Men?!” They’ll never sell, but the master manipulator knows how to get the Elf’s buy-in. Annatar will make the Nine Rings for Men without Celebrimbor’s expertise, come what may.
Charlie Vickers deserves a lot of credit for what he’s bringing to Annatar. As the Lord of Gifts, his spectral suggestions become the invisible hand guiding Middle-earth. He presents a different shade of his “trust-the-process” gaslighting that nudged Galadriel into forging the Three. That this works narratively at all is impressive. After last season, it seemed impossible to believe that Celebrimbor would allow Halbrand, a guy all the Elves know is evil (or, at least, not good), back into Eregion. But it makes sense once we’ve spent time with Celebrimbor. Charles Edwards, playing one of Middle-earth’s most powerful and stupidest Elves, vacillates between haughty professional satisfaction and the strangling reality that he already fucked it all up. Annatar and Celebrimbor delve deeper into the maelstrom as Vickers and Edwards sell a tricky proposition, one caked in dramatic irony that was always hard to swallow in Tolkien’s writing.
We just went through a season of “Where in Middle-earth is Sauron?” to mixed results. But it’s far greater fun to be implicated in his plans directly. Re-watching season one, there is so much more to his scenes with Galadriel. Every move is a tragic step forward, and it’s very satisfying. At every turn, Celebrimbor actively welcomes Annatar to go further. He invited him into the forge via fairytale logic (Halbrand waiting outside his prince’s tower) and he suggested they deceive the High King, a decision he’ll live to regret. Annatar turns the screw tighter when he reminds Celebrimbor that it was he who brought deceit into the mixture. By lying to the Gil-Galad, Celebrimbor essentially doomed the Dwarves.
Annatar’s manipulation doesn’t end with Celebrimor. He’s quietly organizing the other Elven smiths against their master, telling students that they’re so talented and, actually, kind of look like a young Lady Galadriel. Elves, they’re just like us (want to be told they look like Galadriel). Annatar knows what he’s doing. If Celebrimbor gave a word of advice, it would spare them hours of work. Who knows? Maybe the Nine can redeem the Seven. Though it happens a little quickly for Tolkien—hamstringing this show to eight-episode seasons hasn’t done the show’s structure and pacing any favors—by the end of “Halls Of Stone,” Sauron pretty much has Moria and Eregion by the beard and, uh, pointy ears.
But the Rings of Power all operate differently, amplifying the natural abilities of its wearer. Under the mountain, King Durin’s Ring-bearing has side effects, including dragon-sickness and the endless pursuit and hoarding of gold. King Durin has opened the already shaky mines to further digging as the mountains of shiny gold trinkets never sate the King, who is firmly in his “dig, baby, dig” era and delving deeper into more treacherous parts of Moria. He’s also offering other Dwarven leaders access to these incredible tools for the low, low price of half of their earnings. Don’t worry. He’s passing the savings on to the lower classes, imposing a “Ring tribute,” which amounts to a 100-percent sales tax on every crystal ball sold.
Prince Durin is the only one who sees this trouble and spends another episode torn. Like Celebrimbor, he’s culpable for the successes and failures of the Ring. After all, he suggested they help the Elves and facilitated the deal. Now, he has to admit his failures and still convince the suddenly prosperous Dwarves that this is all a bad thing. That’s the mastery of Sauron’s plan: Getting the victim’s hands dirty. Not even Gil-Galad can formulate a strategy without considering Sauron’s hand in the planning. He has infiltrated each race at the highest order, smuggling his corruption onto Gil-Galad’s finger. Sauron is playing chess while the rest of Middle-earth is playing Harry Potter-branded checkers.
“Halls Of Stone” is a little heavy on plot and light on spectacle (although watching Kemen’s arm snap like a twig was delightful). Kemen came out the gate this episode with a lot of Saved By The Bell bully-of-the-week energy in tonight’s Númenor check-in. After a quick conversation with his father, who is doing a classic “What if we could replace the gods?” slip into madness, Kemen assumes the role of town hall monitor, sash and all. Being the type of guy who sees his father’s doomed deicidal pursuits as an opportunity, he uses the whole thing as an excuse to act tough in front of his rival’s sister and make Isildur and his stupid friends look like the phonies they are.
After a couple of rounds of very funny “Hey, you there—that’s illegal, get to jail!” Kemen comes face to face with Elendil, i.e. the only man with honor left on this crummy island! This twerp won’t shake Elendil’s faith in the Queen Regent, but he backs down for his daughter’s sake—even though, dude, forget Eärien. There’s not enough time to get into Númenor this week (or this season, for that matter), but the shorthand of Kemen being a total prick gets the job done. The bad guys are running Númenor, and the good guys are screwed at the moment.
Rings Of Power is still effective in the broad strokes. Halfway through season two, the Elves’ failure is more and more one of their own making, but that goes for everyone else, too. Tides are flowing. Celebrimbor’s unreasonable demands and King Durin’s greed signal a broader problem that no one wants to deal with, let alone talk about. Everyone is trying to impress shareholders, whether with Celebrimbor’s next big thing or the vast resources under the mountain. The price of mithril is increasing because the guys who want unlimited power need it for their magic weapon. It’s morning in Middle-earth.
