Update: This was reportedly a hoax. Keanu Reeves’ reps have denied this happened.

AintItCoolNews.com is reporting an email from a reader who supposedly heard Keanu Reeves give a keynote speech at a school in London. Afterward, he took questions from the audience and spoke about his passion for a third Bill & Ted movie, as well as early work on two more movies in the Matrix trilogy, possibly in 3D:

Says he [Keanu] met the Wachowski’s (no emphasis on the word brothers), for lunch over Christmas and stated that they had completed work on a two picture script treatment that would see him return to the world of the matrix as Neo. Says the brothers have met with Jim Cameron to discuss the pro’s and con’s of 3D and are looking to deliver something which has never been seen again. keanu stated that he still has an obligation to the fans to deliver a movie worthy of the title “The Matrix” and he swears this time that the treatment will truly revolutionise the action genre like the first movie. Wachowski’s are working on a movie called “Cloud Atlas” at the moment, once that concludes they will talk again.

Back again for another highly opinionated — some might even say downright cranky — look at some element of the fantasy genre. You’ve been warned!

TWO FANTASY MOVIES CLEARLY DESERVE TO BE NOMINATED FOR BEST PICTURE

Over a year ago, I wrote an article asking if the current “renaissance” in animated movies was possibly coming to an end.

We now know the answer: absolutely fricking not! 

This year saw the release of two animated movies, Toy Story 3 and Tangled, that are among the best the medium has ever released.

The year also saw a number of other animated movies that, while not close to being in the same league, were also pretty good: How to Train Your Dragon, Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, and (to an even lesser degree) Shrek: Forever After.

Interestingly, all these movies were fantasy-themed.

And even more interestingly, most of these animated movies were considerably better than the year’s live-action fantasy movies. Twilight: Eclipse? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1? Alice in Wonderland? The Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time? Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World?

Please. And don’t get me started on the monstrosity that was the Clash of the Titans remake.

Boy, is the animation renaissance not yet over!

But Toy Story3 and Tangled aren’t just two of the best movies in the fantasy or animated genres: they’re also clearly two of the best movies of the year.

They both deserve to be nominated for Oscars — and I don’t mean Best Animated Feature Oscars (though they’ll obviously get those nominations too).

I mean Best Picture Oscars — especially now that they’ve expanded the category to include ten nominees, up from five.

Will they be nominated?

Toy Story 3 almost certainly will be: Pixar is beloved by Academy members (much the way their now-corporate parent, Disney, used to be).

But Tangled seems like a much, much longer shot.

Why? In part, because of Toy Story 3’s seeming “lock” on a nomination: there may be an attitude, unconscious or not, that animated movies only deserve one slot among the ten nominees.

I also don’t think I’m going out on a limb to say that the Academy, which is comprised of established industry professionals (who tend to be both older and male), probably has something of an anti-”princess” (and kids’ movie) bias, and perhaps an outright anti-female bias. They definitely have an anti-”genre” bias, displaying a long track record that clearly indicates that they think “drama” is more important and award-worthy than anything sci-fi or fantasy.

Toy Story 3 seems to have threaded the needle perfectly: it doesn’t “seem” like straight fantasy or an outright kids’ movie. And, sure enough, both the humor and theme work on several levels: simple enough to appeal to kids, but with subtext and subtle cultural references that also appeal to (smart) adults.

And I can’t begrudge Toy Story 3 its success: it’s a flat-out terrific movie — the first wholly successful movie Pixar has produced in years, IMHO.

But Tangled is flat-out terrific too — simultaneously old-fashioned and contemporary, with a terrifically original visual look. Like Toy Story 3, it also appeals to both kids and adults.

Even apart from the Oscar race, the release of these two movies (and the year’s other fine animated movies) gives me reason for great optimism when it comes to film: at least I now know that Hollywood can still produce quality “popular” entertainment when it wants to.

Now if the town would only apply some of this obvious ingenuity to its live-action movie offerings — and stop their creativity-destroying reliance on remake, sequels, and “re-imaginings.”

Yeah, I know that’s crazy talk. But hey, a guy can dream!

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Four Torches (Out of Five)

The problem with The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (the book by C.S. Lewis) is that it doesn’t really have an over-arching plot. It’s mostly just a series of incredibly charming and imaginative, but mostly unconnected adventures on board a boat as it visits island after island. Sure, they’re searching for seven Narnia lords, but let’s face it: Caspian might have an investment in this quest, but we the reader don’t.

Movies, of course, need plots – especially hugely-budgeted kids’ action movies that happen to be the latest installment in a franchise whose previous outing, Prince Caspian, didn’t do so well.

So what are the producers of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader to do? Well, they created a plot, sort of out of thin air, rearranging the order of the islands in the book, turning one of those islands into an actual “villain” of sorts, and adding a few other miscellaneous story elements.

Basically, Edmund, Lucy, and their bratty cousin Eustace still join the now-King Caspian on his sea-faring quest on the Dawn Treader to travel east into uncharted waters to find the seven missing lords. But they quickly discover that an evil green mist has invaded the Narnian seas  – and they must discover its source and destroy it before it destroys the world.

Not all of the changes to the book are successful – and some of them are downright clunky.

The whole idea of a generic “evil” invading the world struck me as outright contrived and stupid (and the evil’s source seemed both random and shoe-horned into the story).

Likewise, there’s simply not enough time to develop a subplot about child who sneaks on board the ship, and the whole thing seems like a pander to younger viewers anyway.

As for one of the book’s best characters, Reepicheep, his personality, and his relationship with Eustace, has been too softened. Furthermore, the encounter in Dark Island makes almost no sense at all. Why does only Edmund’s fear become realized – and why is his fear so disappointingly obvious and not-scary? (Answer: so the movie can have an elaborate CGI battle sequence!)

Finally, you could argue that all these additions, along with the other existing plot elements, make the whole movie feel too crammed full. One of the best scenes in the book is the moment that Eustace shares with Edmund after having been turned back from the dragon, and Edmund basically says, “You think you were a stinker? You should’ve seen what I did the first time I came to Narnia!” But the hurried new structure of the movie doesn’t allow time for this wonderful conversation — and it also cuts short the enchanting approach to Aslan’s country, which takes some 60 pages in the book.

On the other hand, as in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, some of the movie’s additions and rearrangements are actual improvements on the book, at least for the purposes of the movie.

It makes real sense, for example, to condense Deathwater and Dragon Island into one island, and also to not have Eustace’s transformation into a dragon be resolved so quickly, giving him a chance to “earn” it.

And it makes sense to move Coriakin’s island a little earlier in the story, so he can be the one to fill them on the specific quest they need to undertake (they almost do away with the Dufflepods entirely, but they do make nice comic relief).

Indeed, several of the movie’s best scenes aren’t in the book at all. As in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the opening sequence is extremely charming, and it nicely sets up Lucy and Edmund’s emotional arcs. Meanwhile, the final scene, where Lucy closes the door on Narnia and, simultaneously, on her own childhood, is downright heartbreaking.

There’s also a subplot about Lucy’s resentment of Susan that is very effective. When Lucy steals a spell from the magician’s spellbook, it enables her to make a wish that has disastrous – but wonderfully chilling – consequences.

(Alas, as in the book, Aslan pops up far too often to save the day. Honestly, the story would be much more interesting if he just stayed out of it and let the kids solve their own damn problems!)

One clever joke made me laugh out loud: Caspian gives Lucy her magic cordial, but he also gives Edmund his magic item. But Edmund doesn’t have a magic item that he left behind, you say? Oh, yes, he does — and it comes in surprisingly handy at times!

Finally, it’s worth acknowledging that the movie’s best assets are Georgie Henley, who is still flat-out terrific as Lucy, and Skandar Keynes who is just as good as Edmund. Will Poulter isn’t bad as Eustace — a truly difficult balancing act of a role — but Ben Barnes basically disappears into the woodwork as an admittedly hunky Caspian.

Reading back on my review, you might be thinking: wow, he had a lot of criticisms! So why’d he give it four torches?

The truth is, it is something of a flawed movie — not in the same category as The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which mostly worked. But it’s definitely better than the disappointment that was Prince Caspian.

And come on! It’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader! I live for this s**t!

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I’d never heard this before, but apparently there’s a long-standing rumor that a hanging man is visible in the background of one of the scenes in the woods in the 1939 classic fantasy movie The Wizard of Oz. It supposedly happens after Dorothy and the Scarecrow meet the Tin Woodsman, have an encounter with the witch, and set off down the Yellow Brick Road.

When the movie played on television with its relatively low resolution, it apparently really did look like a hanging body. And since the movie’s reputation grew as a result of those repeated television showings, the rumor of the hanging body grew too.

But now that the film is available on high-resolution digital DVD, the mystery has finally been put to rest.

So is there a hanging body? Not according to this article. It’s apparently a bird — one of a number of real birds that were placed throughout the movie sets, to give Oz a more “exotic” look. Here’s another debunking.

This isn’t the only rumor of its kind — supposedly, you can hear a secretary being murdered in the 1975 song “Love Rollercoaster.” But when I hear rumors like this, I always gotta ask: apart from the incredible odds of something like this happening, does anyone really think that any producer would be so insensitive as to include actual evidence of such a death in a finished entertainment product?

Here’s the The Wizard of Oz clip in question, but frankly, the YouTube.com resolution is so crappy that I can’t see a hanging body or a bird.

A first look at the shire set (from Total Film Magazine) for the upcoming two-part movie version of The Hobbit. But at least one blog is speculating (probably correctly) that this set may really be an updating of the Shire set from The Lord of the Rings.

This article was originally published in September 2009.

If you don’t know who Ray Harryhausen is, you’re on the wrong website.

Starting in the 1940s, this special effects master pioneered the use of stop-motion animation in film, mostly frequently in fantasy film.

The effects he created (often for films he produced) didn’t just result in important technological advances; Harryhausen literally inspired an entire generation of movie-makers, from George Lucas to Steven Spielberg, who say that the special effects genius taught them the all-important lesson that film is limited only by the imagination.

But how have Harryhausen’s films held up over the years not as historical artifacts or nostalgic reminders of childhood, but as actual movies?

Here’s what we think:

The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (1954) and It Came From Beneath the Sea (1955)

Two Torches (Out of Five)

Harryhausen had worked previously as part of a special effects team on the Oscar-winning Mighty Joe Young in 1949, but 20,000 Fathoms and Beneath the Sea were his first movies where he was in charge of the effects.

While fascinating from a historical perspective — these films pretty much created the genre of the “monster movie,” and they were the first to feature monsters created as a result of “atomic testing” — the plots are hackneyed and the effects are primitive.

Of interest only to Harryhausen buffs (and fans of cheesy 1950s sci-fi).

One Million Years B.C. (1966)

Two Torches (Out of Five)

This one isn’t even interesting from an historical perspective. The science is laughable, the plot is stupid, and the effects look far more dated than in other Harryhausen movies. But on the plus side, the film does contain Raquel Welch in that famous leather bikini.

(As bad as this movie is, it’s still better than Roland Emmerich’s 10,000 BC!)

Clash of the Titans (1981)

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

By the time Harryhausen made Clash of the Titans, stop-motion animation was falling out of favor, replaced by puppets, animatronic models, and the first stirrings of  CGI (not to mention a new, more realistic form of animation seen in movies like Dragonslayer known as “go-motion”).

Titans has plenty of fans, and it’s probably Harryhausen’s most complicated animated work ever (the “Medusa” scene alone is worth the price of admission). But this loose retelling of the story of Perseus is too simplistic and earnest for the 80s. It hasn’t aged well.

The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958)

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

In the legendary adventurer Sinbad, Harryhausen found the perfect focus for his talents. 7th Voyage, his first of three Sinbad movies (and his first color film), was a major leap forward in terms of the complexity and sophistication of the effects. The plot may be a little lacking, but the dragon/cyclops battle still stuns.

Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977)

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

The last of the Sinbad movies had a young Jane Seymour and a mega-budget (at the time), but a weak plot: Sinbad seeks a cure for a prince who’s been turned into a baboon. And Harryhausen may finally have been running out of creatures to animate, what with a giant, um, walrus and a not-quite-convincing-looking troglodyte.

The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (1974)

Four and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

The middle, but best of Harryhausen’s three Sinbad movies has a simple, but classic plot: Sinbad races a villain to assemble the pieces of an amulet that forms a map that leads to the “Fountain of Destiny.” When the amulet is put in the fountain, it grants one youth, a cloak of darkness, and a crown of great riches — all well-illustrated in the film.

But the movie also includes one of the most interesting/creepy sequences in all of fantasy film: the villain creates a flying “homunculus” that does his bidding — though the creation of each creature drains the wizard of life-energy, aging him. And the (admittedly politically incorrect) battle with Kali is pretty cool too.

Mysterious Island (1961)

Four and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

Mysterious Island, loosely based on the Jules Verne novel, may be Harryhausen’s most coherent, most fully realized movie. For one thing, there’s a plausible reason for the over-sized creatures that the hero confronts: they’re all part of an experiment by Captain Nemo (living on the island years after the events of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea).

The giant bees are great, but the crab scene is classic.

Jason and the Argonauts (1963)

Five Torches (Out of Five)

Argonauts is widely acknowledged as Harryhausen’s masterpiece (and it’s the filmmaker’s own favorite film). We agree. It’s true that the film has an abrupt sort of non-ending, but that flaw is forgotten in light of indelible imagery such as the statue of Talos that comes to life and — of course, Harryhausen’s most famous sequence of all — the skeleton battle.

When Tom Hanks awarded Harryhausen a special Oscar in 1992, the actor said, “Some people say Casablanca or Citizen Kane. I say Jason and the Argonauts is the greatest film ever made.”

It’s a really hard statement to disagree with.

Have a question about something fantasy-related? Please send an email to thetorchonlineoracle@gmail.com and be sure and include your city and state and/or country.

Q: What’s the real reason they split Deathly Hallows into two movies? Was it greed? – Erik, Athens, GA

The Oracle Speaks:

Not to hear the filmmakers tell it.

“When Steve Kloves began working on the screenplay, it became clear we would have to omit too much to do justice to Jo’s book in one film,” says producer David Heyman. “There were simply too many details that were integral to the resolution of the series.”

“The seventh book is all about resolution—the dotting of all the i’s and the crossing of all the t’s,” adds producer David Barron.

As for Daniel Radcliffe, he told the Los Angeles Times, “There have been compartmentalized subplots in the other books that have made them easier to cut — although those cuts were still to the horror of some fans — but the seventh book doesn’t really have any subplots. It’s one driving, pounding story from the word go…. [Two movies] was the only way we could tell the story in a complete and fulfilling way.”

Then again, that’s what they would say, isn’t it? It’s not like they’d come out and say, “Yeah, we just wanted to make a lot more money.”

Look, let’s be real here, okay? The Harry Potter movies have grossed a total of $5.4 billion dollars — with billions of dollars more in ancillary revenue (up to $20 billion total by some estimates). Does anyone really think they wouldn’t look for another reason to extend the franchise — a way that doesn’t seem too craven or cynical, so as to not provoke a backlash on the part of the audience?

It’s absolutely not a question of necessity: Deathly Hallows isn’t even the longest of the Harry Potter books — that’s Order of the Phoenix (although it’s arguable that, unlike Deathly Hallows, that book is simply over-written, and as Radcliffe suggests, that there’s more actual “story” in Hallows).

But do the fans really care that much? On the contrary, you could argue that fans would rather have the entire story told in two movies than have it be abbreviated for one.

Truthfully, I think the filmmakers were easily convinced to do something that would please most fans and just happened to be enormously profitable for them.

“Obviously the studio are very happy with that decision, let’s not kid ourselves,” Heyman has also said. “[Screenwriter] Steve [Kloves] called me the other day and said, ‘I think we can do three.’ I think he was joking of course.”

Q: Voldemort’s nose-less face: is that make-up or CGI? — Amy, Henderson, NV

A: It’s actually a combination of the two. The nose of Ralph Fiennes, who plays Voldemort, is removed digitally, but most of the rest of the face is prosthetics (on the forehead and eyebrows), make-up (covering the skin), and a network of temporary tattoos (for the veins).

Incidentally, this is how Rowling describes Voldemort: “a man, tall and skeletally thin” with a face that was “whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake’s with slits for nostrils … His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat’s, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness.”

I think they’ve done a reasonably effective, if pretty straightforward realization of the character.

Incidentally, what about Mad-Eye Moody’s eye? That’s entirely a prosthetic.

Q: Is it true that they didn’t decide where to split the story into two movies until they’d already written one long script and filmed it? — Myrna, Edmonton, Alberta

A: No. There was some confusion in the press, because the screenplays for the two movies were written at the same time, the movies were filmed at the same time, and some of the producers talked publicly about their tinkering with the ending once filming was completed. And, of course, they did test-screenings to find out if the ending they chose was “working.”

But even before the movie’s two scripts were written, the producers had a pretty clear idea of where they were going to end the first movie — and screenwriter Steve Kloves wrote that ending in his script (although it was subsequently altered).

Here’s producer David Heyman earlier this year:

The script [for Part 1] was written with an end in mind. The first draft was written with one ending and as we developed it, it went to another ending. And then we reverted in part to the original ending because we felt it allowed us a more emotional conclusion and felt like it was more complete, as it were. But we’ve added this other scene which I think is really amazing — and I can’t tell you where the break is, I’m sorry — but I do feel it will be incredibly dramatic, very moving and make people want to watch the next film.

Have a question about something fantasy-related? Please send an email to thetorchonlineoracle@gmail.com and be sure and include your city and state and/or country.

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When Fran and Kaz Kuzui, the producers of the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie and TV series, announced they were going to try to “reboot” the franchise with another theatrical film, it was greeted with unanimous hostility, since Joss Whedon was not going to be involved.

Word is, Warner Brothers will proceed with the project anyway, with a script by Whit Anderson.

“The thing that was so wonderful about Buffy is what made it special was so timeless,” Anderson told the Los Angeles Times.  “The deep struggle she had with duty and destiny, that tug between what you’re supposed to be doing and what you wantto be doing. The fate of the world is on her shoulders but some days she wakes up and she just doesn’t want to do it.”

No, the thing that was so wonderful about Buffy was Joss Whedon. He created the characters, and he single-handed made the show everything that it was. This is nothing but cynical attempt to cash in on his ground-breaking legacy as a result of a legal technicality where Whedon doesn’t actually control the rights to his work.

They should honestly be ashamed of themselves.

(Three and a Half Torches out of Five)

How much you like Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 will probably depend on how much you like the first half of the book it’s based on. As a filmed version of that part of the book, it’s pretty successful.

But as a “movie,” much-less as stand-alone entertainment that exists apart from the books? It has some significant problems.

First, the good news. The thing looks terrific. The way they tell that all-important story of The Three Brothers is breathtakingly beautiful — frankly, worthy of a short film Oscar.

The movie also has lots of action, and some touching emotional moments. I defy anyone not to be moved by the scene in which Hermione wipes her parents’ memories clean of her, in order to protect them.

There’s less humor than in previous movies, but the jokes that are there are pretty funny (including a hilarious dig at Daniel Radcliffe’s height early in the film).

Best of all, the film gives lots and lots of screen-time to its three terrific leads, Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint.

They’re sensational. And can I just say? I owe J.K. Rowling something of an apology. In the first few books (and movies), I was annoyed that the female protagonist was such a know-it-all stick-in-the-mud. The boys were always breaking the rules and having adventures, and she was off … studying (and reprimanding them for breaking the rules). It seemed vaguely stereotypical.

But by the end of the series, that stereotype has been subverted. Hermione is now clearly the acknowledged “leader” of the group: the smart, sensible, even-tempered, and responsible one — qualities you absolutely need when you’re trying to save the world from Great Evil and when your two other heroes are a hothead and a bumbler, respectively.

Finally, there’s the film’s ending, which isn’t a cliff-hanger exactly, but it’s quite a great cut-off point.

So what’s my problem with the film?

With two full two-and-a-half hour movies to fill, the producers have given themselves the luxury to film almost everything the book. Unfortunately, this means they include most of the book’s flaws.

When the characters strike off in search of the Sword of Gryffindor, but with no idea where to look, the movie really starts to bog down, just as the book did. The stars are as charming as actors get, but when it comes to angsty conversations about saving the world and Ron-Hermione jealousies, boy, have we already been there, done that.

When even your characters are complaining that nothing is happening in the story, you know you have a problem. Much of this could’ve been cut out had the producers choose to make this one movie.

Even worse, when the plot does move, it happens far too often as a result of contrivance: they just happen to notice an important symbol; Dobby just happens to appear in the nick of time (with the ability to save them); they just happen to get the help they need to find a certain item; when Ron becomes separated from the others, he just happens to have the perfect way to get back to them.

Yes, yes, these things are all eventually “explained,” but they usually have to be explained by the addition of yet another plot element — and these elements often feel forced or included only so they can resolve some piece of the plot.

I’ve had this argument with  Potter fans before, about what I see as plot-weaknesses in Rowling’s writing. I know many folks disagree with me, which is all well and good, but, well, I’m the one writing this review.

The real point is, if none of these things bothered you about the books, if it was all reading pleasure, then they won’t bother you about the movie either. You’ll probably love it.

But if you’re a reader like me, and you sometimes got frustrated by that aimlessness in the woods, and by the sometimes-convoluted nature of Rowling’s plotting, you’ll probably be at least a little frustrated with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 as well.

We’ve written before about the trend in comedy-fantasy (which loves to mock fantasy conventions). The latest evidence? Your Highness, starring James Franco, Natalie Portman, and Danny McBride, coming April 11th, 2011. Looks pretty funny. (The trailer contains R-rated material and is restricted.)

It must be a little disheartening to be out publicizing a new movie, but the thing you say that makes headlines is a comment about another sequel to a franchise you started thirty years ago.

But that’s the situation Harrison Ford is in as he publicizes his latest movie Morning Glory, opening this weekend.

When asked about the rumored Indiana Jones 5 project, he told MTV Movieblog, “It’s on George [Lucas]’s plate. And I’m hoping he’s working hard at it, because I’d look forward to doing it again if the three of us could get together — George, [director] Steven Spielberg, myself — I’d love to do another.”

But when pressed for plot details, he said, “I’m not at liberty to tell you what I know and what I don’t know.”

Even more disheartening, there’s no chance it’s happening any time soon. “[There's] no timeline,” he said. “While I’m alive, I hope. It’ll be better for everybody.”

One recent rumor had the movie set in the Bermuda Triangle (with shooting to begin next year), but that has since been denied by the producers.

This article was originally published in October 2009.

For those of you living under a rock, Zombieland opened last weekend and went quickly to number one (and we, of course, reviewed it here.) One of the clever moves of the film is that it takes your traditional Hero — muscular, confident, aggressive — and your standard Sidekick — smart but cowardly, neurotic — and flips them, so that we see the film through the eyes of the sidekick, played with hilarious gusto by Jesse Eisenberg.

Although the characters in the film aren’t aware of this switch, and continue on in their respective paths, we in the audience are clued in to the fact that this won’t be your traditional action/horror film. In fact, Eisenberg’s character, Columbus, in a moment of meta-consciousness, even refers to himself as “sort of a Sancho Panza-type.”

Sancho Panza was, of course, the prototypical sidekick, who traveled around at the side of Don Quixote in Miguel de Cervantes’ historic novel of the same name. Unlike the slender, intelligent Columbus, however, Sancho was overweight and dim, riding atop a donkey, yet lovable for his unshakable loyalty to his master, Quixote.

It is this loyalty that allows for Quixote to continue on in his quests, whether he’s aware of it or not, and like a truly great sidekick, Sancho never asks for affirmation. He simply is there for the hero, even though in this case, the hero is a delusional old man (which, perhaps, proves Sancho’s worth all the more.)

But while the sidekick has his or her place in a story, longer tales often develop the sidekick to the point where they’re on the same level as the hero, which is always satisfying for a reader or viewer. After all, haven’t we all, at some points in out lives, felt a lot more like Robin than Batman? So it’s small wonder we take comfort in the fact that Robin, the epitome of a sidekick, grew up and became Nightwing, a hero in his own right, on par with Batman.

In fantasy literature, perhaps one of the greatest examples of a sidekick rising up to the level of hero is Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings. Like Sancho, Sam is neither slim nor very smart, and for most of the story, Sam exists to cook food for Frodo and keep up his spirits, all the while contentedly walking behind his master on their epic quest.

But when Frodo is attacked and Sam believes he is dead, a change occurs in him, something visceral, something which can never be undone. He realizes that the fate of the Ring and indeed, the world, now rests solely on his humble shoulders, and so he stands up, picks up his master’s sword, and carries on.

Frodo didn’t die, of course, and the two hobbits are reunited, but things will never go back to the way they were before. By the end of their journey, Frodo has come to respect Sam as an equal, and when death again seems imminent, utters to Sam the famous words, “I’m glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things.”

In the wake of Sam, it seems that the sidekick-turned-hero angle is all the rage. The most obvious example that springs to mind from contemporary is, of course, Gabrielle, the Battling Bard, whose popularity threatens to outshine that of the hero, Xena. Throughout the six seasons of Xena: Warrior Princess, we see as Gabrielle grows and changes from a feisty but physically weak farm girl into an accomplished warrior, inheriting Xena’s place after her death.

On Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Willow Rosenburg, who was naught but a vastly intelligent nerd, became aware of the existence of the supernatural when Buffy Summers came to town, and that indirectly resulted in her learning witchcraft to the point where she became the “most powerful witch in the western hemisphere.”

But as for my favorite sidekick? That would have to go to Ron Weasley, the bumbling poor kid who was just another Weasley sibling until he met up with Harry Potter in their first year at Hogwarts.

Come on, just look at that picture! If you didn’t say “Awww…” you’re made of stone.

Ron comes into Hogwarts the way many of us do any other school, frightened and overwhelmed, feeling very small and very alone. But by befriending Harry Potter, he assured his name would go down in the history books. Had it not been for Harry and all of the danger that followed him like a dark storm cloud, Ron might never have been tested as thoroughly as he was, thus never knowing his true potential.

While real life is never as cut-and-dry as fiction, sidekicks and heroes do exist, just as villains and henchmen do. But as fiction is  realizing, those roles are never binding, and we can easily go from being a lowly servant one moment to the savior of the world the next.