Yes, The Two Towers is the movie that doesn’t end. After the narrative drive and power of The Fellowship of the Rings, this second installment quickly settles into a cinematic Sargasso Sea, becalmed in the dull waters of a storyline that dissipates into three separate and unequal threads, leaving the audience emotionally distanced from the unfolding saga.

Of course, part of the reason for this is that Tolkien did not write The Lord of the Rings as three books; he wrote it as one, and it was only because his publisher balked at the length that it was split into three. The result is that The Two Towers does not even begin to stand alone, and can only work in the context of the full trilogy.

As the movie begins, the fellowship of the first film has been shattered, leaving Frodo (Elijah Wood) and Sam (Sean Astin) to continue the trek towards Mordor in hopes of destroying the ring forever in the fires of Mount Doom. Meanwhile, Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) are in hot pursuit of the Uruk-hai, who captured the hobbits Merry and Pippin at the end of episode one. That particular quest is soon abandoned as Merry and Pippin escape into the woods by themselves. Aragorn and his friends then travel to Rohan to aid its people against the onslaught of Saruman’s (a magnificent Christopher Lee) minions. The film then cuts back and forth between the three threads of the story: Frodo and Sam with Gollum; Aragorn at Helm’s Deep; Merry and Pippin with the Ents (giant tree creatures).

The result is that it is difficult to become involved in the story, and you watch events unfold, marveling at the fact that, while today’s special effects are in all other ways magnificent, for some reason the talking trees still look almost exactly like the ones in The Wizard of Oz. And pondering on such issues as: if Gandalf is now a white wizard, why doesn’t he seem any stronger? Why do all the Orcs have cockney accents? And, if the rest of Théoden’s men manage to arrive at Helm’s Deep only minutes after the women and children, why does it take Aragorn so long (how far down the river did he float, fercryinoutloud)?

On the other hand, Frodo’s growing awareness that the ring is changing and possessing him is gripping. His sympathy for the Gollum, grounded in the knowledge that he, too, could end up like that, has the sweat of true desperation about it, and Elijah Wood’s wide eyes convey all the fear, sorrow and pain of one who carries a very heavy burden indeed. As for Gollum (Andy Serkis), this is the first time a CGI character has succeeded in suspending belief so totally that he is easily accepted as real. The range of emotions that play across his face as he runs through the various schemes that might get him back his “precious” is more than most real-life actors can manage after a lifetime of work.

Ian McKellen’s Gandalf returns, literally glowing in the dark, but still with a mischievous spark that gives his interpretation of the wizard a human dimension. Which is just as well, considering that much of the film is mired down in the affairs of Rohan, a kingdom of Middle Earth that is remarkably similar to the Renaissance Fair on a bad day. It’s also similar to that view of the Middle Ages familiar to anyone who has seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail (i.e. Q: How do you know when someone’s a king? A: He isn’t covered in shit). It’s extraordinary in a film which expends so much effort and expense on recreating Tolkien’s vision, that almost no effort at all was given to populating or costuming the inhabitants of Rohan, who all dress in shades of black, never wash or comb their hair and spend their lives in perpetual genuflection to their useless king.

Equally, women are remarkable by their absence in this installment. They are also remarkable for having almost exactly the same names. Liv Tyler’s elf princess (as you will no doubt recall) is called Arwen; the Rohan princess of this tale goes by the name of Eowyn. Say them aloud. Their appearance, too, harks back to earlier adventures with the dark mystery of Arwen/Rebecca serving as a contrast to the blonde beauty of Eowyn/Rowena, with Aragorn in the role of Middle Earth Ivanhoe.

As in Fellowship, the landscape of New Zealand plays a major role (though we could have done with fewer swooping aerial shots of snow-capped peaks), and the look of a Victorian illustrated book is intact and effective. We are, however, treated to a bit more of Tolkien’s Luddite tendencies (trees-good; machines-bad) which are pounded out with such a heavy hand that you could be forgiven for thinking the production was funded by Greenpeace.

Still, tree-hugging aside, the bulk of Two Towers is taken up with battle. There are two relatively minor (but bloody) skirmishes and then the epic struggle for Helm’s Deep, which takes up a full half hour. But as complex as that struggle is, for emotional impact it doesn’t come close to Frodo’s internal struggle. Yet the time spent with the hobbits is minute compared to the endless, interminable scenes featuring the besieged humans, all of whom take a full two minutes to respond to any question. And with all due credit to Pinter, great drama requires more than frequent pregnant pauses.