By Haoran Xia
Published on: DeepFocus
April 27, 2021
Twenty years later, The Lord of the Rings returns.
Two decades after the release of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (hereafter The Lord of the Rings), Chinese cinemas once again welcomed the epic journey of the trilogy. The once-magnificent Middle-earth, the fairylike world of the Elves, and the tumultuous story of the Ring-bearers shattered the fourth wall between reality and fantasy, transporting audiences back to Tolkien’s legendary world of adventure and wonder. For many devoted fans, the re-release was an indescribable feast, and the underlying spirit of courage, the valor of “small people” shaping destinies, served as a spiritual beacon for viewers worldwide, guiding them to explore and confront successive unknowns and darkness.
Interestingly, some Western media recently revealed stories about a “Soviet version of The Lord of the Rings,” which both surprised and astonished audiences. A version of The Lord of the Rings predating Peter Jackson? Why would the Soviet Union make The Lord of the Rings? And most pressingly, what was the Soviet version like?
As early as 1991, the Soviet Union attempted to film The Lord of the Rings, but due to political shifts and social changes, it was never widely distributed or screened. When China celebrated the twentieth anniversary of The Lord of the Rings’s release, the Soviet version (hereafter Soviet The Lord of the Rings) resurfaced after thirty years, finally meeting a global audience via social media. Compared with Peter Jackson’s sweeping vision, the Soviet version is vastly different: amateurish acting, crude sets, exaggerated makeup, and low-budget special effects reflect the unique cinematic style of the late 1980s. For those familiar with the story, it’s recognizable as The Lord of the Rings; for those unfamiliar, it might appear as if they were watching a Soviet-era “community stage play.” Everything is rudimentary, yet in terms of story, the Soviet version preserves many key moments and classic sequences.
The Soviet The Lord of the Rings was originally titled Khranteli, translated as The Keepers, meaning “guardians.” Released in 1991 by the Leningrad Broadcasting Center (now Russia’s Channel 5), it consists of two parts totaling two hours, narrated largely through voice-over. From Bilbo’s 111th birthday party to Gandalf entrusting Frodo with the perilous mission of guarding the Ring, from Frodo and Sam setting out on their journey, Gollum’s appearance, the Ringwraiths, the Council of Elrond, the Battle of Moria, to Frodo’s final solitary trek toward Mordor, it can be described as “small in size but complete in content.”
The storyline generally mirrors Jackson’s version, yet the Soviet adaptation adds unexpected touches for fans. For instance, in the second part, the tale of Tom Bombadil is included. A character of immense, almost boundless power near the forest, Bombadil was omitted in Jackson’s films due to minimal connection to the main plot. In the Soviet version, however, Bombadil intersects with the main story in a unique way: when Frodo and his companions lodge in the forest, Bombadil becomes the first figure to tempt Frodo into exchanging the Ring, adding an additional challenge to the journey. Amusingly, due to limited effects, Bombadil and his wife are enlarged and positioned on the left side of the frame, while Frodo and company are shrunk on the right - a stark visual contrast conveying Bombadil’s dominance. Oddly enough, this also lends the scene a fairy-tale-like, surreal charm: credible, yet almost unwatchable.
And unwatchable visuals aren’t limited to that one scene. Many foreign viewers have mocked the Gollum design - why is his head topped with layers of cabbage? How does Gandalf’s eagle escape from the pits of hell and turn into a seagull with swollen eyes? Compared to Jackson’s version, the Soviet adaptation is riddled with flaws. Yet, within the technological limitations, cultural isolation, and socio-political turbulence of the late 1980s and early 1990s, Soviet audiences - and even some Western viewers - cheered when the film aired.
The Soviet connection to The Lord of the Rings stretches back even further, to the 1960s. Tolkien’s work was first published in 1954. Within a decade, many Soviet underground cultural activists and literature enthusiasts attempted translations. The first underground translation appeared in 1966, yet cultural policies prohibited its distribution. It wasn’t until 1982 that the first official Russian-language edition was published, sparking the first wave of Tolkien fandom in the Soviet Union.
The reason for The Lord of the Rings’s fraught history in the USSR lies in the country’s macro-cultural context. After the Soviet Union was established, all cultural dissemination was centrally planned and controlled. Until the late 1980s, power and culture remained highly centralized. The story of humans, elves, and dwarves uniting to resist an Eastern totalitarian power was deemed “subversive” and “counter-revolutionary,” leading to censorship. Since its publication, Tolkien’s novels were considered a threat of “Western ideology” or “liberal revolution,” running counter to Soviet collectivism and communism, and were banned.
In Mark T. Hook’s 2003 historical sociological work Tolkien in the Eyes of Russians, he notes: “The Christian elements glorified in Tolkien’s work were forbidden in Soviet society. Not only were they banned, they were actively suppressed and denigrated, prompting multiple waves of underground translations. Many cultural activists participated in this literary revolution, asserting their voices in opposition to the dominant society. There were numerous versions: ten different translations of The Lord of the Rings alone, and nine of The Hobbit.” But why, specifically in 1991 - the year the Soviet Union dissolved - was a film version released?
Although the Soviet cultural system, like its political system, was highly centralized, by the late 1960s and early 1970s, filmmakers gradually shifted their focus from economic to artistic goals. Soviet directors sought deeper artistic expression and integrated aesthetics, moving away from earlier state-imposed revolutionary ideals. They blended Russian historical culture with personal sentiment, producing films both poetic and visually distinct. Prominent directors of this era included Andrei Tarkovsky, Sergei Parajanov, and Nikita Mikhalkov, whose works combined personal emotion with subtle reflections of broader Soviet society.
In the 1980s, Gorbachev’s policies of Perestroika (restructuring) and Glasnost (openness) eased film censorship, spawning a new genre: “Chernukha,” or Soviet noir. Influenced by French New Wave cinema, this genre emerged as a uniquely Soviet “black film” style. One contemporary summary captures the era: Alexei Simon, then-chair of the Glasnost Defense Foundation, described it as “crawling toward freedom of expression like a turtle”, a vivid metaphor for the slow, decades-long exploration of self-expression in Soviet society.
Seizing this historical opportunity, The Lord of the Rings was finally adapted on Soviet screens. In 1985, soon after Gorbachev’s reforms, the Leningrad Broadcasting Center produced a six-minute low-budget ballet-based adaptation. It vanished almost immediately. In 1991, Leningrad attempted again, successfully producing a two-hour television film. Yet, after a single broadcast, it was abruptly halted - its fate mirroring that of the Soviet Union itself. A grand nation and a highly anticipated film were swallowed by history’s void.
Thirty years later, when audiences revisited the Soviet version, nostalgia arose. Some wondered: what if the film hadn’t been canceled? What if the Soviet Union hadn’t dissolved? “I watched this film back then. Now, it doesn’t feel offensive; it reminds me of the USSR. From the film’s chaos, you can see just how disorderly our country was,” said Russian artist Irina Nazarova in a BBC interview.
The re-release of the Soviet The Lord of the Rings is absurd, yet it also lays bare the Soviet Union of the 1980s and 1990s: chaotic, frantic, bewildered, dark, almost circus-like. On screen and off, life mirrors art. The Soviet adaptation is not merely a relic of a bygone era; it was a spiritual refuge for those navigating societal upheaval.
Since its founding, the USSR embraced atheism and communism. Yet sudden national upheaval in the early 1990s left many Soviet citizens spiritually adrift, bereft of direction in life - much like Frodo at countless crossroads, unsure which path to take. Amid the darkness, the courage, personal spirit, and near-Christian devotion exemplified in The Lord of the Rings, Tolkienism restored hope, providing guidance and a beacon that cut through the weight of political shadows, opening a new, beautiful world for Soviet viewers.
Perhaps the fate of the Soviet The Lord of the Rings mirrors that of the nation itself. Perhaps the Soviet people, post-dissolution, were like Frodo, wandering alone through endless adventures. And perhaps it is this coincidence that allowed the ill-fated Soviet adaptation to be rediscovered, giving audiences in 2021 a glimpse of the hardships and tears of 1991.
At the film’s conclusion, Frodo and his companions set out alone toward Mordor, stepping into the unknown. A decade later, Peter Jackson’s trilogy would provide answers. Together with audiences worldwide, we journeyed through Middle-earth, witnessed Frodo’s growth, experienced the first cinematic blockbuster in film history, endured twenty years of uninterrupted fandom, and celebrated its re-release twenty years later, alongside the global debut of the Soviet adaptation thirty years on.
Translations of The Lord of the Rings are never singular. Across decades, its cross-cultural spiritual quest and exploration of life philosophy continue to transform us into curious children, enthralled time and again by the infinite possibilities of Middle-earth.
作者：夏浩然
发表于：深焦DeepFocus
二零二一 四月二十七日
二十年后，魔戒再现。
在《指环王1：护戒使者》（以下简称《指环王》）上映二十年后，中国电影院迎来了《指环王》三部曲的又一次洗礼。当年辉煌磅礴的中土世界，犹如仙境的精灵世界和跌宕起伏的护戒故事再一次打破现实与魔幻的第四面墙，将我们带回到那个富有冒险和奇幻的托尔金传奇世界。《指环王》的重映对许多“指环王”影迷而言无疑是一场难以言表的饕餮盛宴，而《指环王》背后蕴含的无畏精神和“小人物”扭转乾坤的价值取向也为全球许多观众建立了精神灯塔，引导他们探索并挑战接二连三的未知与黑暗。有趣的是，近日一些主流西方媒体爆出“前苏联版指环王”的故事，这不仅让人惊喜也令我们感到诧异 —— 在彼得·杰克逊之前仍保留着更早版本的《指环王》？前苏联为什么会拍摄《指环王》？最令人迫切想要了解的是，前苏联版的《指环王》究竟是什么样的？
早在1991年，前苏联便尝试拍摄《指环王》，但由于政策和社会形态变故，并未得到大面积推广和放映，而在中国迎来《指环王》二十周年重映时，前苏联版《指环王》（以下简称前苏《指环王》）在三十年后也重见天日，在社交媒体上与全球观众见面。与彼得·杰克逊版本的《指环王》相比，前苏《指环王》相差甚远，其业余的表演，粗制的舞台，浮夸的妆容和低劣的特效呈现出80年代末期独有的影视风格，了解的知道在看“指环王”故事，不了解的恐怕会以为自己在看一场前苏联时期“社区样板戏”。一切的一切都十分简陋，但就故事本身而言，前苏《指环王》涵盖了不少《指环王》应有的重点和经典桥段。
前苏《指环王》原名为“Khranteli”，翻译为英文是“The Keepers”，意为“守卫者”，于1991年在前苏联列宁格勒广播中心发行（现俄罗斯国家电视5频道）共有两个部分，时长两个小时，以旁白叙述的方式缓缓展开：从比尔博的一百一十一周岁生日宴会开始，甘道夫将守护魔戒的艰巨任务交接给弗罗多，弗罗多与山姆一行人踏上护戒之旅，咕噜姆的登场，躲避戒灵，埃尔隆德会议，墨瑞亚矿坑大战到最后弗罗多一行人独自走向魔多，可谓“麻雀虽小，五脏俱全”。
故事情节与杰克逊版大体一致，但前苏《指环王》仍对部分情节进行补充，给到“指环王”影迷不少意外的惊喜。比如在第二部分中，汤姆·邦巴迪尔的故事线得到讲述。该角色在林地附近有着巨大无穷的力量，但因为与《指环王》主线联系不大，所以在创作剧本时，杰克逊将该人物删除。而在前苏《指环王》中，邦巴迪尔却与主故事线产生了不一样的化学反应：当弗罗多一行人在林地借宿时，邦巴迪尔成为了第一个引诱弗罗多换取魔戒的人，为弗罗多护戒之旅上增添了另一个难关。十分滑稽的是，因为当时特效有限，在该场景中，邦巴迪尔与他的妻子被放大放置在画面左侧，而弗罗多一群人则被缩小放置在画面右侧，一大一小的强烈对比呈现出邦巴迪尔夫妇的强势，不过在某种程度上，也为这幅场景增添了一丝童话故事般的“超现实”色彩，可信却不可观。
不过不可观的画面可不仅仅只这一个，不少外国网友吐槽，在咕噜姆登场时，为什么它的脑袋上顶着一层又一层白菜？在甘道夫逃离天狱所骑的雄鹰怎么变成了一只双眼肿胀的海鸥？的确，与杰克逊版《指环王》相比，前苏《指环王》槽点万千，但在那个技术有限，意识比较封闭，文化非常单元且社会相对动荡的90年代前苏联时期，重播的前苏《指环王》却获得了一波又一波西方观众，特别是俄罗斯本国观众的欢呼与喝彩。
再往前数，前苏联与《指环王》的故事其实可以追溯到60年代。《指环王》首次出版时间是1954年，在它出版后的十年时间里，许多前苏联地下文化积极者和文学爱好者便尝试翻译这部西方奇幻文学巨作。直到1966年，第一份地下翻译作品才完成，但因为文化政策不允许，并没有得到发行。之后，在1982年，第一部官方俄语版《指环王》正式得到出版并发行，引起了前苏联“指环王”迷的第一次狂欢。
《指环王》在前苏联之所以有如此悲惨的历史，其主要原因在于前苏联的宏观文化背景。前苏联建立后，国内的文化传播都由中央政府统一规划并执行，而前苏联，直到80年代末期都处于权力集中制，政治如此，文化也如此。《指环王》中关于人类、精灵和矮人齐心协力共同抵抗一个东方极权主义的故事在当时的苏联社会被看作“不正当”的“反革命”题材，自然而然被审查、封禁。从《指环王》发行以来，这本书和其所描绘的内容和展现的题材被前苏联政府视为“西方主义的威胁”或“自由主义的革命”，与苏联所宣扬的集体主义和共产主义大相径庭，从而被列为禁书。
在马克·T·胡可出版于2003年的历史社科书籍《俄罗斯人眼中的托尔金》中，马克指出：“托尔金主义中所崇尚的基督教教义在当时的苏联社会是被禁止的，不仅仅是被禁止，而且被打压，被诋毁，这才引起了一波又一波地下翻译浪潮，让许多地下文化活动者纷纷参入这场与主体社会抗争的文化革命，发表他们自我的声音。当时的（翻译）版本有许多，光《指环王》就有十种不同的翻译，《霍比特人》则有九种。”那为什么偏偏在1991年这个特殊的时间点（前苏联在1991年解体），要发行电影版《指环王》呢？
虽然前苏联的文化体制，如同其政治体制，一直处于高度集中制，但进入60年代末70年代初，前苏联电影制作人渐渐将创作中心从经济转移至艺术，在电影创造中追求更深层次的内在硬核，艺术表达和综合审美，抛去以往前苏联社会所追求的“革命”价值或国家认同，该时期的导演们将俄国历史文化沉淀与个人情怀相结合，打造出一个又一个独树一帜，充满诗意、富有艺术的电影作品。该时期最著名的代表性导演有安德烈·塔可夫斯基，谢尔盖·帕拉杰诺夫和尼基塔·米哈科夫，他们所创造的电影往往参合了浓烈的个人情愫，却能在那细腻的个人情感世界里找到时代背景下，宏观前苏联社会的剪影。
进入八十年代，任命总书记的戈尔巴乔夫提倡政治“改革”和“公开性”（原名为“Perestroika”和“Glasnost”），该概念同样被移花接木至影视上，对该时期影视作品的审查制度稍有松懈，孕育出新的苏联电影类别“Chernukha”，法语为“Noir”，也就是人们熟知的“黑色电影”，而该题材在法国新浪潮电影的推动下，延伸出“New Noir”题材电影，很明显，该题材同样发展至苏联，形成了苏联独有的黑色电影。
如果要用一句话来总结80年代前苏联电影行业的特征，可引用任职当时格拉斯诺思特国防基金会主席的阿列克谢·西蒙的一句话：“像乌龟般缓慢地向言论自由爬行”，或许事实如此，长期受到言论控制的苏联社会在经历了几十年的缓慢探索后，终于能在20世纪末期得到表达自我意见的基本权利。
也正是拥有了这历史性的契机，《指环王》的故事在前苏联终于又能得到叙述。1985年，戈尔巴乔夫提倡“改革”和“公开性”不久，列宁格勒广播中心便播出了第一部低成本“指环王”改编作品，该作品由几位芭蕾舞演员演绎，但时间不长，总共只有六分钟，随后也销声匿迹。到1991年，列宁格勒广播中心再次尝试拍摄《指环王》，这次终于成功，长达两个小时的电视电影版《指环王》在列宁格勒广播中心得到播放，可在播放一次后，该电影被迫中止，而前苏联的命运也如同前苏《指环王》一般，被迫中止。庞大的前苏联和万众期待的《指环王》就此跌入历史的黑洞。
在前苏《指环王》开播三十周年后，当再次看到这部作品时，不少观众开始念旧，不也有不少观众陷入沉思、假设，如果当时这部作品没有被取消，会怎样？好比在历史面前打上一个巨大的问号，如果前苏联没有解体，当下又会是怎样？“这部电影我当时就看过，现在看我倒不觉得反感，反而让我想起了当年的苏联，从电影的凌乱就能看出当时我们国家有多混乱”，在BBC采访中，俄罗斯艺术家伊琳娜·娜扎罗娃感叹道。
前苏《指环王》的重映自身带着滑稽，但它同样将90年代，甚至是80年代的前苏联赤裸裸地展现在我们眼前，直观地、不加任何滤镜地呈现出当年混乱、疯狂、迷茫、昏暗、马戏一般的前苏联社会。到底，戏里戏外，人生趋同。前苏《指环王》不仅仅是那个时代苏联人的独家记忆，更成为了当年苏联人的精神庇护所。
自从苏联成立以来，苏联社会一直信奉无神论，信仰共产主义，而一夜之间的国家骤变让许多苏联人失去了对共产主义的信仰，使得他们突然失去了生活和生命的方向，仿佛《指环王》中的弗罗多，站在众多路口前，不知道究竟该迈出哪一步继续自己的人生。整个苏联陷入黑暗，而托尔金主义，也就是《指环王》中体现的无畏和个人精神，基督教般的虔诚让许多苏联人再次拾起信心，拥有了追随，追寻的方向和目标，推开现实社会中沉重的政治黑暗，为苏联人开辟一片美丽新天地。
或许前苏《指环王》的命运和结局冥冥中道出了前苏联的相同命运，或许苏联解体后的苏联人民与弗罗多一样，只身一人于无尽冒险之中，或许正是这样的巧合，才让命运多舛的前苏《指环王》经过时间和历史的轮回，再次展映在俄罗斯观众眼前，让他们，甚至更多亲身经历那段历史的人，在2021年回味1991年的艰辛与泪水。
前苏《指环王》结尾时，弗罗多一行人独自开始前往魔多的旅程，一切成为了未知，不过十年后，在杰克逊版《指环王》三部曲中，我们得到了答案。我们与全世界所有观众一起经历了中土世界的风风雨雨，感受了冒险征程的千秋万象；我们见证了弗罗多的成长，见证了电影史上第一部“大片”，见证了二十年来不间断的“指环王”热潮，也见证了二十年后的重映和三十年后的“全球首映”。
《指环王》的翻译永远不止一种，因为无论多少年后，它跨越文化的精神追求和关于生命哲学的探讨，始终会让我们在分秒之间变成天真好奇的儿童，让我们一次又一次沉迷于那拥有无限可能的中土世界。