'The schizoid sequel to last years "Fellowship" is an intermittently resplendent affair, despite a waterlogged middle passage. The battles are grand and operatic and for the most part it outspaces it predecessor. New Zealand helmsman Peter Jackson is getting so much about Tolkien's trilogy just right in his big screen adaptation. So why does it feel that the character development is becoming more entropic with each episode? Why does the mezzo fizzle when it should soar? Are are these demigods - sheer and frigid, decorous and continent - the most jejune around or what?'
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