Hell yeah, brother, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power is back! This is not a statement I’d have made prior to pressing play on the show a couple years ago, after its stilted, creatively misguided first season. But Season 2 was a marked improvement, held down by masterful performances by Charlie Vickers as Sauron the deceiver and Charles Edwards as his mark and victim, the Elf genius Celebrimbor. As the show’s main character, Galadriel, Morfydd Clark had been good from the start. 

Some shaky sideplots (a love affair between Elf and Human) were abandoned. Others (the Dwarves, Númenor) were given both gravitas and verve. Needlessly drawn-out mysteries, like the identity of the Gandalf-like Stranger (Daniel Weyman), were finally brought to a close. New mysteries, like the identity of the so-called Dark Wizard (Ciáran Hinds) and his masked followers, were actually intriguing rather than frustrating. The climactic battle was so huge it was three episodes long. It even worked as allegory for fighting fascism, a welcome development given the use of Tolkien terminology and iconography by deranged fascist tech oligarchs.

In a word, The Rings of Power became something more than itself. It became bitchin’. And so, I’m pleased to report, it remains. Directed with genre-movie, syndicated-action-series zing by series mainstay Charlotte Brändström from a corker of a script by showrunners J. D. Payne and Patrick McKay, this may be J.R.R. Tolkien’s story no more than Bram Stoker’s Dracula was actually Bram Stoker’s Dracula. But that didn’t stop Francis Ford Coppola’s vampire epic from becoming a modern classic, and it’s not stopping The Rings of Power from becoming a blast to watch.

The season begins with a voiceover from Galadriel. It’s been five years since Sauron launched his war on the Elves of Middle-earth, and he’s winning, decisively at that. Thanks to the three Elven Rings, powerful items Sauron played no part in creating, the Elves are able to hold him at bay in two strongholds: Rivendell, governed by Elrond (Robert Aramayo), and Lindon, where the High King Gil-galad (Benjamin Walker) dwells. Gil-galad, Galadriel, and Círdan the Shipwright (Ben Daniels) are the Rings’ current wielders.

Much as the second season started with Sauron’s brutal assassination by the orcs and devolution into a horrific pile of black vampiric goo, things really get going with a scene from a horror movie. Surrounded by his orc assistants, Sauron chants an incantation that’s similar but not identical to the verse inscribed on the One Ring we know and love from the future. The resulting piece of jewelry gets placed on some poor orc’s finger to test it out; it burns him to death.

“All creation requires sacrifice,” Sauron sighs, attempting to turn a clear setback into a teachable moment. What a piece of work this guy is!

The pertinent part here is that Sauron feels he needs the expertise of his old friend and victim Celebrimbor to craft the Master Ring he’s attempting to make. (Celebrimbor remains present on the show as a voice of doubt in Sauron’s head…and, in a marvelously sick touch, as a skeleton mounted on his wall.) As one of the Dark Lord’s orcs reminds him, though, he ordered all those plans destroyed. The other Elf technicians all got killed in the sack of their city. Whoopsie daisy!

The only solution remaining is to capture one of the three Elven rings. Sauron played no part in their forging, so they lack the corrupting influence of the rings for Men and Dwarves. If he captures one, he can reverse-engineer it and build one ring to rule them all. He tells the mouthy orc, Marnûkh (Adam Young), that the orc to bring him such a ring would be the orc to end not just this war, but all wars. Rings of Power is consistent in its depiction of orcs as fairly reluctant warriors who chafe at their overlords’ commands; keep that in mind when you’re trying to ascertain Marnůkh’s true motives later on.

In a flashback set thousands of years earlier (seriously, that’s what it says on the screen, “THOUSANDS OF YEARS EARLIER”) we watch Galadriel meet cute with her future husband, Celeborn (Jamie Campbell Bower, recognizable as one of Twilight’s elite vampires). To be honest, the romantic interlude that follows is not for me: a lot of cliché-laden dialogue and a whole “they’re dancing, no they’re swordfighting, no they’re flirting” thing that riffs on Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to dramatically diminished effect. Part of my problem here, I’m sure, is just that Galadriel is a much more interesting character than Celeborn in Tolkien’s books and in every other adaptation, so this guy’s always gonna be a hard sell to me. Anyway, they’re engaged by dawn, so at least they enjoyed their date.

The mood shifts dramatically when we rejoin Galadriel in the present day. She’s leading a very well-choreographed woodland battle against the servants of Sauron, which include Elves, Men, and one extremely powerful huge dude in all black with a Hellraiser helm. He is the King of Lossoth (Paul Hickey), but more importantly he is now a Naznagôl, a Ring-servant. While he’s neither undead nor in full thrall to Sauron yet because the Dark Lord hasn’t constructed his Master Ring at this point, the ring of power he possesses was made from Sauron’s blood. This makes its bearer effectively immortal and indestructible, as well as very strong and very evil.

After a thrilling confrontation, Galadriel and her friend Arondir (Ismael Cruz Córdova) escape to fight another day. But she is haunted by visions of Sauron, who wormed his way into her head during his time with her under a secret identity and subsequently nearly killed her after offering her a throne by his side. She argues with Elrond about seeking help against the man of her nightmares from Númenor, where the descendants of his human brother Elros (it’s a long story) still dwell. 

But the Númenoreans we see are real pieces of shit. Led by Kemen (Leon Wadham), son of the usurper king Ar-Pharazôn, they’ve enslaved the people of the Middle-earth port region called Pelargir. This includes Theo (Tyroe Muhafidin), Arondir’s human friend and quasi-adoptive son. These “low men” are forced by their supposed betters to fell their forests in order to build Pharazôn a grand armada, even if the Ents in the region are out there raising a ruckus. Kemen laughs at the Tree-herders’ misery, and calls Middle-earth — a preferred fantasy destination for generations of readers — “a vile land,” in case there as any doubt that this guy sucks.

Seems to me he’d be a ripe target for Sauron’s campaign of giving rings out to various kings and lords, right? We actually see how this works, or at least how it works sometimes, when the masked minions of the Dark Wizard show up at Sauron’s court in Mordor. Turns out they are all lords who were once independent. Brought in as a diplomatic delegation from the vast desert realm of Rhûn to the East, they offer the Dark Wizard’s alliance against the Elves, but that’s not what Sauron’s after. After his orcs kill a couple of the masked men for mouthing off, the others are forced to fight for the death to become the recipient of one of his powerful rings. 

The winner is Khamûl (Zubin Varla). Accepting the ring is a painful ordeal, one that transfers part of his consciousness to the realm beyond this one, an effect done with jittery overlays that recall some of Twin Peaks Season 3’s creepier moments. When he finally takes his mask, he’s a blonde-haired guy whom Sauron dubs “Fairest of the Nine” and gives a nice golden suit of armor to match. Khamûl’s mission is to overthrow the Dark Wizard, marshal both the fallen sorcerer’s forces and those loyal to himself, and bring this vast army to Sauron to help finish the conquest of Middle-earth.

There are obstacles, of course. Gandalf, now known to both the Dark Wizard and Sauron, is out there, and he “wields the Secret Fire itself,” according to Khamûl. Sauron vows to deal with this newcomer himself.

But Sauron also receives some unlooked-for help. While the Númenoreans refuse his entreaties, their slaves are more than willing to join forces with anyone who can help them overthrow their hated masters from the Sea. One such slave is Theo, who like the masked men before him is made to fight to the death to claim a ring, leading to the episode’s cliffhanger ending.

Meanwhile, in the underground kingdom of Khazad-dûm, King Durin IV (Owain Arthur) and his wife Queen Disa (Sophia Nomvete) prepare for a visit from his older brother, Prince Thrain (Eddie Marsan). It’s worth noting here that while there’s no basis in Tolkien’s writing for an older brother that I can find, the “Durin” name is given to Dwarves of the royal line who resemble the original Durin, the first Dwarf; he’s indeed believed to be Durin’s reincarnation, like the Dalai Lama, not that this has come up on the show to the best of my recollection.

Point is, it could make sense that the kingship of Khazad-dûm passed to someone older than the oldest male descendant for that reason. But try telling that to said older brother. Thrain puts on a show of conciliation, after first getting hammered with his old friends. But he’s there with a contingent of Dwarf-lords from the Iron Hills and the Blue Mountains who want the Dwarf rings Durin’s late father promised them, for which they’ve already paid handsomely. Having seen what such a ring did to his dad, he has no interest in handing them out.

Thrain clearly sees an opportunity here. (To her credit, Disa sees through his nice-guy act.) When he spies on Durin secretly giving arms to the Elves for their fight against Sauron, violating the Dwarves’ neutrality, he confronts his big brother. Now Durin believes Thrain is after the throne. What he doesn’t know is that Thrain also has a thing for Disa that is very much not reciprocated, to the point where some kind of past sexual assault is hinted at. But we know it, so when the two dwarves fight all alone outside the kingdom’s mountain walls, it’s reasonable to think it might get very ugly.

Before the struggle can go full Smágol and Déagol, however, that orc Marnûkh shows up. Saying he has knowledge that could save Middle-earth, he reveals that Sauron is trying to create a Master Ring. Using their own Elf rings, Gil-galad and Círdan observer this all from afar. If Sauron’s plan works, even their own untouched rings are in jeopardy, as are the minds and works of those who wield them. Can they trust the word of an orc about it, though, especially one who’s been promised fortune and glory if he acquires the secrets of the Elf rings for Sauron?

Needless to say, The Rings of Power is a very, very loose adaptation of the source material. Like, “introducing a love story between Dracula and Mina” loose. But I emphatically do not think it’s “doing a version of Carrie where Carrie doesn’t kill anyone with her mind” loose. Rings is working with material that wouldn’t be particularly adaptable if it weren’t handled with a lot of creativity and invention. All the rebellious orcs, the Dwarf stuff, the Galadriel/Sauron will-they-or-won’t-they business, wizards making power plays, compressing centuries of events into a few years — it’s all brand new. 

But novelty in an adaptation, change in an adaptation, is value neutral, neither automatically good nor automatically bad. Payne and McKay have chosen to change The Lord of the Rings‘ Second Age into a sword and sorcery saga, a frankly insane idea I can’t help but admire, and one which at the very least delivers one gonzo moment after another. Your mileage may vary, as trite as that is to say. For me, this brand of go-for-broke fantasy filmmaking is a road that goes ever on and on. 

Sean T. Collins (@seantcollins.com on Bluesky and theseantcollins on Patreon) has written about television for The New York Times, Vulture, Rolling Stone, and elsewhere. He is the author of Pain Don’t Hurt: Meditations on Road House. He lives with his family on Long Island.