The final part of Peter Jackson‘s fantasy trilogy climaxes with a colossal bodycount and acts of courage in the face of insurmountable odds There are moments, early on, when you worry if it is going to turn out alright. Can he pull it off? Is there really a happy ending to this epic, the adventures of one director and his collaborators to craft a trilogy that will not only dominate the box office of the early 21st century, not only raise the bar for blockbuster films, but in the end - for all its battles, creatures and plucky little hobbits - actually mean something?

This quest is imperiled early on in Lord Of The Rings Return Of The King; you doubt if there are any surprises left in the bag. After the two astonishing innovations of Lord Of The Rings The Two Towers - Gollum and the stomping legions at the battle of Helm‘s Deep - the first few bars of Return Of The King still carry the echoes of the previous film. Aragorn (Mortensen), Gandalf (McKellen), Legolas (Bloom) and Gimli (Rhys-Davies) are celebrating the victory at Helm‘s Deep in the halls of Rohan, while Frodo (Wood), Sam (Astin) and Gollum (Serkis) are still on their trek into Mordor. There is a striking prologue that takes us back to the crucial moment in Gollum‘s life, when he was still a simple Riverfolk called Smeagol, but as we riffle through the various sub-plots and characters of the trilogy, reviving them with a scene here, a speech there, the apprehension arises that Return Of The King will disappoint. There are too many slo-mos set to pan pipes, there is exposition cut against a derisory battle in the ruins of Osgilith. We have been here before and the return will lack the startling novelty of our first trip.

But put these doubts out of your mind. Do not think for one minute that Return Of The King fails to meet the considerable expectations that have grown up on the back of previous instalments. You could open an entire can of hyperbole over this film, and still run short of adjectives to praise its majesty. Still, let‘s try. No doubt there will be a few minor spoilers along the way. After mopping up the carnage at the close of the Two Towers, the various pieces of the chess game are moved into place for the mother-of-all-battles at the Gondorian stronghold of Minas Tirith. Pippin (Boyd) is taken to the city by Gandalf after a ferocious encounter with a Palantir (a black crystal ball). This shocking, searing experience of sorcery heaves us on our way; the adventure resumes.

As the armies of Mordor approach, the palette darkens. Sam and Frodo exist under perpetual gloom, their pallors graying with hunger and exhaustion. Fatalism is in the air. As the fellowship embark upon their various missions, Merry admits "I just don‘t know what is going to happen". Legolas speaks of a "sleepless malice" rising against them. Even Gandalf admits that the odds are hopeless, death certain; "There was never much of a hope. Just a fool‘s hope."

Overwhelmingly, this is a film about death. Not just in its bodycount (although the colossal battle scenes probably do set a new record for on-screen deaths, even if they are the killing of computer-generated hordes). The battles - whether it is the Nazgûls swooping over the carved citadel plucking soldiers from the battlements, or horses disappearing beneath the feet of charging oliphants - turn death into spectacle. But the speeches of Gandalf, and the friendship between Sam and Frodo turn that spectacle into something more telling. It is there in the reaction of the steward of Gondor, Denethor (Noble), to the killing of his beloved son Boromir (Sean Bean, way back in the first film); the only character who loses control in the face of death. If these films have an overarching theme it is courage in the face of the insurmountable odds of your own mortality. Or as Aragorn puts it, as he leaps into an unknown, "I do not fear death". Or Gimli the dwarf, when regarding another suicidal mission; "Certainty of death? Small chance of success? What are we waiting for?"

The film is at its most moving when we are watching the fear play across the faces of our heroes, and the nameless ranks of men who stand against Sauron‘s horrors. Along with the high bodycount, there is a very high weepie count too, the sobs inspired as much by this bravery as by grief. On a lighter note, the fans who have squirreled out sexual subtexts in the relationships between the hobbits as well as, say, Aragorn and Legolas, will find plenty of boxes to tick here. The Fellowship look longingly at one another. Also Aragorn, as he ascends to his birthright as King Of Gondor, single-handedly drags the patriarchal beard back into fashion.

Although it is customary to praise the achievements of the special effects department, this trilogy‘s most startling achievement is its storytelling; every time the longeurs of exposition or the details of various races and myths threaten your suspension of disbelief, the three-handed scenes between Sam, Frodo and Gollum bring back intimacy and acuity of character. This focus tightens around the ring itself; the very small thing at the heart of this epic that stands for a very large theme. A small round band of gold that magnifies the evil in every heart and represents man‘s inexhaustible appetite for power.

Against this ubiquitous evil stands man‘s improbable will to persist despite the monstrous nature of his condition; born to die, yet able to face this tragedy with courage and equanimity. As Gandalf puts it, "Death is just another path which we all must take." The greatest cinematic event of a generation is over, leaving behind it a thoughtful silence.