Review of the second season of “The Rings of Power”: Like a joyless rollercoaster ride, rarely connected with excitement

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“All of Middle Earth stands on the brink of the abyss,” whispers the dark ruler Sauron threateningly. And that is exactly what it looks like in this second season of Prime Video The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of PowerFragile truces are broken, new alliances are formed – and 16 more rings are forged in the fire of the great furnace. This is JRR Tolkien’s fantastic vision, realized on a grand scale for the small screen.

In Rivendell, the elves are in crisis. In the last season, Galadriel (Morfydd Clark) is still reeling from the discovery that she had been in cahoots with – and almost in love with – Sauron (Charlie Vickers), who had disguised himself as a harmless mortal. Now Sauron sets out to forge his own ring – leaving Galadriel and her estranged best friend Elrond (Robert Aramayo) arguing over the use of the three sparkling elven rings. Meanwhile, the strange wizard who may be Gandalf (Daniel Weyman) marches through the deadlands of Rhûn with his Harfoot companions, Pharazôn (Trystan Gravelle) seeks power in Númenor once again, and Isildur (Mr. Bean is on holidayMaxim Baldry (from The Last Man) is making his own way through Middle Earth. Not to mention all the other characters – with eloquently long names – who are having their own adventures.

“Sauron does not see himself as the ruler of a desolate desert,” is Galadriel’s verdict on her ex. “But as the ruler of all of Middle Earth.” And so began the temptation that was revealed in the first season of Rings of Power comes into full force: rings are made, armies are sought, power is gained. In contrast to its sibling with a release schedule, House of the Dragonthere’s no blame for delayed gratification. The greatest hits of the Tolkien saga – from Balrogs to Palantirs – are brought out. Clark – the most compelling performer in this new take on the mythology – is a supporting player this season, as the action jumps from Khazad-dûm to the fires of Mordor to Lindon. And to add to the sense of grandeur, several familiar faces from British stage and screen – Ciarán Hinds, Rory Kinnear, Jack Lowden – are added to the ensemble.

But even they struggle with the material. To deliver ominous dialogue about shadows descending upon various kingdoms, or just plain old-fashioned small talk, you have to have a certain level of faith in the project. Simply reading the lines—no matter how competent the delivery—results in what feels like high-octane table reading. You have to be willing to put yourself in your character’s shoes: “I Am a displaced Middle Earther on the hunt for Orcs.” And all too often in Rings of Power, The desire to spend the lavish budget on sets and effects has led to casting decisions that undermine that principle. These are young, beautiful actors who look as if they should be sipping coffee on a soft sofa in a Dunelm catalogue rather than roaming a lawless wilderness smeared with mud and blood.

But Rings of Power has always struggled to create an internal verisimilitude. When Arondir (Ismael Cruz Córdova) returns in this second outing, it’s a stark reminder of the show’s problems with its own reality. The fights are full of unnecessary twists and jiggles – as if they were choreographed by Raygun – which evade danger in the process. Likewise, so much explanatory work is done in each conversation that it rarely feels full of actually Suspense. Moments when the show comes close to processing emotion (“I am as hard as you, as stubborn as you,” Durin (Owain Arthur) tells his father, “it was wrong to disrespect you”) are replaced by a desire to make general statements. “The hearts of men are easily corrupted,” Galadriel tells us, but everyone else – dwarves, elves, wizards – seems trapped in an unyielding archetype.

There was always something easy incorrect to The Rings of Power. A visual aesthetic that seems more inspired by Peter Jackson’s derided Hobbit films than his celebrated trilogy. A blur in the character design that makes it look more like Doctor Who as a prestige drama. A multitude of MacGuffins – objects that drive the plot – that would put even Michael Bay to shame. A temptation to fanservice, cramming characters like Tom Bombadil into the already overstuffed action. An indulgent belief that “epic” means every interaction must be meaningful – and that humor must be avoided at all costs. The result is like a joyless rollercoaster ride: tossed around, turned upside down, but always wondering when the fun is about to begin.