This Exists: Figwit Lives!
If you’re not aware, Bret McKenzie has a small role in Lord of The Rings. It’s our generation’s George-Harrison-cameo-in-Life-of-Brian.
I’ve lived the last few years of my life, content with that small part of pop-culture trivia (show it off to friends when you’re having a screening of The Fellowship or Return of the King). Then I discovered Figwit Lives. A fansite dedicated to Bret’s character in the movie, who has one line and mostly stands in the background. You can read all the details on the site or the character’s Wikipedia, that was obviously made by the site’s creator.
I can understand a more-attractive background model grabbing your attention. That happens every night at a Christina Aguilera concert. There’s a difference here with Figwit; Bret McKenzie is already famous. There are other places to learn more about Bret and gawk at him, places like the rest of the internet.
The creators at least seem to be having fun with it; I don’t think they’re lighting candles and shlicking it to their DVDs paused on his few seconds on-screen.
The real telling part of this is how much “Figwit” merchandise exists; there are collectible figures, a documentary, even a LOTR trading card.
So what’s the story here? Was this a big enough thing to warrant attention from Peter Jackson? Or was it just that the controlling partners made collectibles of every possible thing from LOTR?
We’ve learned two things today;
1) Fandom can take you weird places. A woman spent part of her life glorifying not Bret from Flight of the Conchords, but an elf that looks like Bret that could possibly fall in love with a mortal woman. And is also possibly Legolas’ brother/archrival/lover.
2) Peter Jackson cares nothing for fans and the world he’s created. He is just a machine of consumption (not food, brother looking good and trim now) and greed. If we were to make a page on Nonstop Karate dedicated to the Uruk-hai that Gimli chopped in the balls in The Two Towers, maybe we could get a new action figure made.
Wait a minute…
Bal-Lesh the Sack-Less was a lower-ranking member of the Uruk-hai, content only with raping men and burning fields. That is, until he got older. As he got on with age, he began to care for his other Uruk-hai, and didn’t know what to do with his emotions. It is then that he decided to sire a new Uruk-hai, which is not that hard as they’re just born out of the mud. All Bal-Lesh really needed was a nice soft spot of mud to make love to.
But battle called. Saruman decreed all of his minions off to Rohan. Through their battles, Bal-Lesh thought of nothing but that nice soft spot of mud back at Isengard. Perhaps it was that absent-mindedness that got him killed. As he dreamed of making mud angels in his own love spunk, Gimli, son of Gloin, cleaved him between his nether regions. Castrated, Bal-Lesh laid there at Helm’s Deep weeping until eventually a pack of human children ran a stick through his eye.
Your move, Peter Jackson.