By David Rask Behling, Tribune columnist

One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them,

One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them,

In the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie.

&045; J.R.R.Tolkien, Fellowship of the Ring

Tomorrow afternoon and evening The Return of the King opens in movie theaters around the world (although in some cities, fans will be able to watch the movie at midnight tonight). It’s the final installment of Peter Jackson’s cinematic trilogy of Tolkien’s saga about an evil, magic ring &045; a weapon of unlimited power &045; and its destruction.

It’s been a long haul for the people involved in making the films, requiring nearly five years of their lives.

For those that hadn’t already heard this, the project was unique because of the decision to film all three movies simultaneously.

The end result was worth it, however, and I’m not alone in my eager anticipation of the final chapter.

Still, the eagerness and satisfaction that comes with seeing a story through from beginning to end is tinged with regret and disappointment.

For more than three years I’ve had a Lord of the Rings movie to look forward to at the end of the year. After this December, the trilogy will be done. There will be no more chapters to film, no more movies about Middle-earth. And I’m not ready to say good-bye &045; I want more.

Part of this is due to Jackson’s skill as a director. His vision of Tolkien’s novels is compelling and exciting; the special effects and &uot;spectacle&uot; are awesome, but never at the expense of the underlying story.

He tightened up the plot to turn the novels into screenplays without losing the essence of the tale. But my desire for more also is a result of Tolkien’s own storytelling abilities.

Despite the lack of any professional training as a writer (no writer’s workshops or poetry slams for him, he was a professor of Anglo-Saxon languages and literature), he weaves a tale of courage, deceit, defeat and ultimate victory that is as imaginative as it is true.

Tolkien did not intend his story to be an allegory, with Hitler or Stalin (or some other despot) as a double for the Dark Lord of Mordor or the ring as a representation of nuclear weapons.

However, his depiction of the struggle of good and evil is flavored, no doubt, by his own experiences as a foot soldier in World War I and his experience as a father sending his only son off to war in World War II.

Tolkien learned the hard way that war brings out both the best and the worst in humanity.

Consequently, you can’t read the Lord of the Rings novels without paying attention to war. It is constantly in the picture, either center stage or as a part of the background. Characters tell stories about battles won and lost, travel across ancient battlefields, and take up weapons themselves. Evil forces are poised to destroy everything created by men and elves.

Doing nothing means victory for the forces of evil, but resisting will not be easy. Resistance will mean the death of loved ones. It will mean pain and suffering, even if, ultimately, it brings freedom.

A lingering refrain is stated most plainly by Gandalf the wizard. He tells Frodo at the beginning of the story that we cannot choose the times we live in, but that our true &uot;self&uot; will be seen in how we choose to use the time that is given to us.

In the tale of the ring, while war cannot be avoided, the choices warriors make in battle reveal their true character: their nobility or their depravity. Tolkien’s heroes do not lose themselves, or lose sight of the values they fight for, in the passion of the battlefield.

War is waged within limits, because the choice of how to fight flows from their identities as compassionate, ethical beings.

For all of these reasons and more, I plan on enjoying my outing(s) to the movie theater this week, even if my pleasure is tinged with regret that the journey is over.

And if I really need to, I can open up my copy of the novels and start reading them again; really good stories never wear out.

(David Behling is a rural resident of Albert Lea. His column appears on Tuesdays.)