[Objective assessments of artistic creations are naught but a delusion. Attempting to achieve such a feat is a fool’s errand.]

The mantle of Lord of the Rings is a heavy burden to bear. When one desires to contribute to a mythos that is near universally regarded as the progenitor of modern fantasy, there is no shortage of material to adapt. Tolkien’s lore is deep and expansive with so much mythology left untouched by television, video games, and film. But with The War of the Rohirrim, the vast and rich Middle Earth has never felt smaller.

The War of the Rohirrim focuses on a single conflict between men, and an uninspired one at that. For this is a story that has been seen and told thousands of times before. When the King of Rohan becomes host to the Dunlending lord Freca, tensions are uncomfortably palpable. A rejected marriage proposal leads to the death of a king, followed by war—a rather predictable sequence of events. But this is not the only part of the tale that feels unoriginal.

Just as Lord of the Rings draws inspiration from ancient folklore and legends, so too does the heroine of the War of the Rohirrim. Borrowing the name of the Greek goddess of marriage, the heroine, Hèra, is the sole daughter of the King of Rohan and a would-be shieldmaiden, whose skills in battle and riding are ignored. Perhaps this sounds familiar. Indeed, for a goddess is not the only figure Hèra’s character takes from.

Hèra’s story begins with her riding through the plains, showing us how much she values freedom. It is only natural that she would reject a suitor, even if the act denies the benefits her kingdom would reap. By the end, a wedding dress is her armour for the final battle. “I am no one’s bride!” she cries out as she grants her people victory. This is naught but a hollow echo of Éowyn’s “But no living man am I” from the books, and “I am no man” from the films, before she triumphantly slaughters the Witch King. Whilst Hèra works from the same foundation as Éowyn, she fails to properly carve out a true identity for herself. Her fiery red hair seems like it's trying to compensate both a lack of nuance and personality.

Everyone else in this tale is plagued with a similar issue. Little time is dedicated to establishing these characters as people. Their stories as individuals are but a mystery and only the bare minimum of how they are connected to one another is made known. Characters are not seen expressing joy or laughing with each other, deaths are not honoured, making their actions and sacrifices more weightless than air. They are empty, devoid of memorability and believable humanity. To deny these characters such things is to go against Tolkien himself.

Here there be no elves, no dwarves, and no hobbits. Worse, there is also no charm, no wisdom to impart, and nothing new to say about the atrocities of war. A gratuitous last minute appearance by Saruman is nothing but a cheap tactic to try and give the audience something to smile about at the end. If that is The War of the Rohirrim’s idea of a final reward, then it is an embarrassing display of a lack of confidence. The War of the Rohirrim does not feel like an expansion of Lord of the Rings. It is but a hollow and unfulfilling story that so desperately yearns to live up to its namesake. Chasing its shadows, it merely imitates excellence while lacking understanding of what makes Tolkien’s work timeless.