Wellywood

Wednesday 31st March 2010, 11.40pm, Base Hostel - Wellington

With a little bit of persuasive encouragement it's amazing what you can get people to do. For example, this afternoon I convinced Ella to come on a Lord of the Rings tour with me and crouch in the woods like a hobbit, holding a small gold ring in her palm and assuming all the correct actions and facial expressions of her allocated part - Samwise Gamgee. I was Pippin, I think it's because he has the scruffiest hair. Some stupid Chinese bloke got the part of Frodo, political correctness gone mad. I'm no ardent fan of the J.R.R. Tolkien film trilogy, but I did think they were excellent movies, and I enjoy a bit of geek appreciation every now and again, and that is why I booked the two of us on this hobbiting extravaganza this afternoon.

Ella was initially skeptical about this. She has only seen the first film (which she was strictly forbidden from disclosing to our guide from fear he'd set the Orcs on us) and pretty much the only thing she could remember from this was Viggo Mortensen as the mud-caked and sweaty warrior king... be still my beating heart. However, I was insistent that the tour would be a good opportunity to spend time with people who push their sellotaped glasses up their nose and mumble things under their breath like, "Erm I think you'll find that in Shot Four of Scene Two, Gandalf is actually holding his staff in his right hand. And you might want to check your Elven pronunciation of Mawdor." In other words: GREAT people.

The first and greatest person we met was our tour guide Ted. He has set up this company himself out of sheer and all-encompassing love for the films, and when I asked him if he spoke any Elven, he replied blushingly "not fluently". What a pro. Mega fans have the ability to make their object of affection seem fantastical and worthy of praise to even the most cynical of observers, and Ted's crazed enthusiasm for his subject only served to send Ella and myself into a raucous afternoon of dutifully posing in various stills from the film, in the precise locations where they were shot, aided in our method acting by Ted's Secret Prop Bag, from which, like a Mary Poppins carpet case, he pulled at random, pipes, a carrot, frying pans, fake horse poo, and of course, the one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

I'd like to say now that I feel I may have been too hasty and harsh in my judgement of Wellington. Once you take yourself just 10 minutes beyond the city streets you find you are again driving along through thick forest and mountain bends, beautiful hilltop houses perch in leafy and undoubtedly exorbitantly priced suburbs, all with a view of a stunning boat bobbing harbour. That's the thing about New Zealand; no matter how urban a place is, you're never far away from vistas that are more or less untouched in natural splendour. It was in these forests and mountains that many scenes from Peter Jackson's blockbusters were filmed, with the additional help of a little CGI and green-screening here and there. I have utter admiration for people who work in these creative industries after my partial educating today. In one location we visited Ted pointed out a thoroughly nondescript field on which a whole encampment, "battle preparation" scene was laid out - for roughly 3 seconds of screen time. In another cul-de-sac corner of Wellington suburbia an entire pub was built (the Prancing Pony scene, in case you're one of those people who likes to check my facts) only to appear in the first movie for 30 seconds, before the whole thing was ripped down again. The words 'patience' and 'commitment' don't even begin to cover it do they. Although I reckon I could find it in me to be a tad more patient and committed to things if someone chucked 600 million dollars of funding my way.

At the end of the tour we visited the Weta Cave - Weta being the company behind the visual creation of such films as Lord of the Rings, Avatar, I Robot, King Kong, District 9, and most impressively... Xena: Warrior Princess. The "cave" is a glorified gift shop where you can learn all about the work that Weta does without breaching any confidentiality laws around current projects by wandering through the studios next door. I spent our time there telling Ella all about Bilbo's initial discovery of the ring, reliving the moment I fell in love with Orlando Bloom in that blonde wig, and explained why really, Gollum is a creature to be pitied, a character of truly Shakespearean tragic proportions. I quite surprised myself by the geek I had become in the space of 4 hours (yes, yes, I can hear you saying it, as well as the 23 years of practice beforehand). Ella handled me and my self-realisation very tactfully, and christened me instead Le Geek C'est Chic. I further earned this new accolade by buying myself a copy of all 3 books in one volume, I need a new book and I've never read these ones, disgraceful for a bibliophile such as myself, about time I paid Mr Tolkien his respects.

To round off our day of film based trivia we decided to treat ourselves to a cinema trip. This time it was I who needed convincing. I was all ready to settle down in front of Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, when Ella voiced her desire to see Shutter Island. Now, I know it's not a scary film, but I did know it had been coined a "psychological thriller". Being such a delicate little flower and prone as I am to quite graphic and sometimes terrifying nightmares, I tend to make a habit of avoiding anything which promises to thrill my psychology. It's also a very rare occasion that you'll get me in to a cinema to see a film with an age rating of 15 or over, 15 year olds these days are brave! Sad isn't it. But I have a wildly overactive and destructive imagination, things play on my mind for longer than they seem to dally on other people's, and I like being able to sleep at night, so I've adapted to my limitations - call it self-preservation.

Nevertheless, she played a blinding Samwise Gamgee today, and so deserved rewarding. Successful partnerships are built on compromise and ours is no exception - she makes a fool of herself and shatters her street-cred in the forest for me, I damage my mental health for her, fair's fair. She also had another craftily persuasive trick up her sleeve to get me trotting merrily in to the cinema behind her tonight, one of my all time greatest weaknesses. No, not popcorn... Leonardo DiCaprio. Oh my, even when he's playing crazy he's still too cute for words. Screw Viggo, forget Orlando, it's always been you Leo.

It was a terrific film. Good choice, well made by Ms Pritchard. Brilliantly shot, perfectly chosen locations, harrowing, truthful to it's era, and very cleverly scripted. A firm recommendation from this writer, who is now sat bolt upright in bed with the light on, hugging her pillow, jumping out of her skin at every howl of the wind or creak of the door, dreading what her imagination will be screening for her during sleeping hours. Le Geek C'est Chic indeed. Maybe in future I'll just stick to films about kind old wizards and friendly hobbits.