Ride of the Rohirrim - Official 2020 Remastered [True 4K UHD] [HDR10] [5.1 Dolby Atmos Audio] [21:9] 

How about the beginning of the Battle of Minas Tirith.

All the film xd

For Frodo

Lighting of the towers

As@@gearantonio said, all the films.

Dune Part 2 would like to have a word.

Not even close @@pain4perks436

​@@pain4perks436 no the fuck it wouldnt

​@@pain4perks436 lol😂

As it should be

Correction. They dont come close to the EXTENDED versions of these masterpieces.

Agreed!!!!

Marvel movies are for insecure teenagers.

@@muitnecsa3489 Comments like that are for insecure teenagers.

@@thegoodreylo4749 I am not sorry for hurting your feelings, kiddo.

And Rohan will answer!

This and opening scene of gladiator are certainly up there

its by far the most epic movie not just scene, notin comes close to it ffs and yes its 2022 ... Its fkng disapointing rly i dont care how they copy all the methods from the movie only change the charachters but make another movie like that pls ffs

@@alexandershopov8139 back then movies were made with brain and love but sadly now they are made only for money grab :( the movie industry peaked in 1985-2010 after that it went downhill hard look what we have in 2022 it's a shame in what times we live in now :(

@@michaelgreenwood3413 not all russians are the same..

@@michaelgreenwood3413 the absolute soyjak energy of this comment lmao. A war is happening, men die on both sides, keep your pop culture comparisons to yourself.

It’s still an absolute classic scene

just freaking legendary bro

I agree

IT IS!

And in the books, the western wind is also in their back! Pushing away the darkening clouds of Sauron’s making

Could watch it another 200 times and still well up at the ride of the rohirrim, also the ride at helms deep, always shed a tear, beautiful.

It's like a relief after a heavy burden

@@rnanni1048 Ya, it's plain that Manwe is looking over them.

its also tactically brilliant move as the enemies vision will be blinded as they are looking towards the sun, Just like when Gandalf arrives in Helm's Deep. The good guys have the Sun (Anar) on their side.

Same here. I always tear up watching the battle of Pelennor Fields

Every time Theoden shout *"Death"* the 3rd time my tears just fall down 😭

Some excerpts from the book: 《Ever since the middle night the great assault had gone on. The drums rolled. To the north and to the south company upon company of the enemy pressed to the walls. There came great beasts, like moving houses in the red and fitful light, the _mûmakil_ of the Harad dragging through the lanes amid the fires huge towers and engines. Yet their Captain cared not greatly what they did or how many might be slain: their purpose was only to test the strength of the defence and to keep the men of Gondor busy in many places. It was against the Gate that he would throw his heaviest weight. Very strong it might be, wrought of steel and iron, and guarded with towers and bastions of indomitable stone, yet it was the key, the weakest point in all that high and impenetrable wall. The drums rolled louder. Fires leaped up. Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, orcs surrounded it, and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it. But about the Gate resistance still was stout, and there the knights of Dol Amroth and the hardiest of the garrison stood at bay. Shot and dart fell thick; siege-towers crashed or blazed suddenly like torches. All before the walls on either side of the Gate the ground was choked with wreck and with bodies of the slain; yet still driven as by a madness more and more came up. Grond crawled on. Upon its housing no fire would catch; and though now and again some great beast that hauled it would go mad and spread stamping ruin among the orcs innumerable that guarded it, their bodies were cast aside from its path and others took their place. Grond crawled on. The drums rolled wildly. Over the hills of slain a hideous shape appeared: a horseman, tall, hooded, cloaked in black. Slowly, trampling the fallen, he rode forth, heeding no longer any dart. He halted and held up a long pale sword. And as he did so a great fear fell on all, defender and foe alike; and the hands of men drooped to their sides, and no bow sang. For a moment all was still. The drums rolled and rattled. With a vast rush Grond was hurled forward by huge hands. It reached the Gate. It swung. A deep boom rumbled through the City like thunder running in the clouds. But the doors of iron and posts of steel withstood the stroke. Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone. Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face. All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast as a graven image in Rath Dínen. ‘You cannot enter here,’ said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. ‘Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!’ The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter. ‘Old fool!’ he said. ‘Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!’ And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade. Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn. And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last. [...] Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure. But the mind and will of the Black Captain were bent wholly on the falling city, and as yet no tidings came to him warning that his designs held any flaw. After a while the king led his men away somewhat eastward, to come between the fires of the siege and the outer fields. Still they were unchallenged, and still Théoden gave no signal. At last he halted once again. The City was now nearer. A smell of burning was in the air and a very shadow of death. The horses were uneasy. But the king sat upon Snowmane, motionless, gazing upon the agony of Minas Tirith, as if stricken suddenly by anguish, or by dread. He seemed to shrink down, cowed by age. Merry himself felt as if a great weight of horror and doubt had settled on him. His heart beat slowly. Time seemed poised in uncertainty. They were too late! Too late was worse than never! Perhaps Théoden would quail, bow his old head, turn, slink away to hide in the hills. Then suddenly Merry felt it at last, beyond doubt: a change. Wind was in his face! Light was glimmering. Far, far away, in the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning lay beyond them. But at that same moment there was a flash, as if lightning had sprung from the earth beneath the City. For a searing second it stood dazzling far off in black and white, its topmost tower like a glittering needle; and then as the darkness closed again there came rolling over the fields a great _boom._ At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before: _Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden!_ _Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!_ _spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,_ _a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!_ _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains. _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them. Éomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first _éored_ roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Théoden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Oromë the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City. [...] Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!’ [...] _Death_ they cried with one voice loud and terrible.》 - The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

the OST always bring me tears of joy.

I am not crying

Never thought of it like that but makes sense. I believe Tolkien based the Rohirrim off Norse cultures. They too embraced death as a means of a new journey beginning, especially dying 'well' in battle too, straight to Valhalla.

Iluvatar's gift was the elvish name for death

I dont know about that, but I know the word "death" here is not for enemy but for themselves.. they would rather embraces certain death than bow down to evil

❤

melkor twisted it

Let me introduce you to Winged Hussars charge in the battle of Vienna

@@ej_ti9626 battle of the bastards in GoT aint half bad either

@@ej_ti9626 I have a feeling Tolkien was inspired by that event. A glorious event might I add. The saviours of Europe

@@ej_ti9626 what a shiity scene it is just watched it

Narnia is on par with this

I was also 12 when I saw it in cinema in 2003... Born in 1992. I use to say that this Trilogy is the equivalent of original SW trilogy for our generation. It really shaped us in many ways. I love these films to the death. And I also cry like a baby in many scenes, especially this one.

was 13 , it's a scene to behold, and like many, I was blessed to see this in cinema, from the slow drum beat you feel the tension of the Rohirim and what they're up , all the way to that glorious charge where they break the orc lines, I teared up.

I was probably in the same theatre as you. This movie made me a man.

Same mate.

Same bro 🤜🤛

It really does, some of the bigger CGI like fellbeasts are awkward but otherwise? incredible piece of film and literature. i think this series will stand the test of time

Props

Does anyone claim otherwise??? Newer movies looks like PC games (looking at you Marvel and Hobbit).

@@knuckle1493 For some reason some of the orcs out of the field lack shadows which makes them look like they are floating a bit. A detail that probably mattered less in SD, in HD at least it's a short moving shot. It's enough though to break me out of the experience. Thankfully LOTR is trully the GOAT and sucks me right back in.

Agree. Unfortunate Amazon will likely put it to shame with modern day politics.

Saw it in the cinema when it was released. Best moment in any film I've ever experienced.

@@autumnsentryI agree

I went to the cinema this summer (they released again the movies) and had to go three times just to enjoy this scene again and again.... today I regret not going for the fourth time.... GOOSEBUMPS EVERYTIME!!!

I’m watching with kids for their first time. Just finished Fellowship. Kept asking “is he evil?” Every time Boromir was on screen. Wait til the end and decide for your self.

Well, apperently, i watched these trilogy for the first time several days ago😂. Not really interested with fantasy movie bcs it's often just a mediocre or awesome story movie with overvfx. However, several weeks ago, i saw the top rated movie of all time again, then realize lotr is one of them. What really took interest in me is the fact all lotr movie (1,2,3) are in the top ten imdb score. That's a wholesome. Then i decided to watch all LOTR for the first, my expectations is really high considering all lotr are in score 8.7, 8.8, and 8.9 imdb. The first LOTR: The Fellowship of The Ring is masterpiece level 10/10. I thought that it will be 9/10 then i was mesmerized by how far this movie surpass my expectations. then.... The second LOTR: The Two Towers is masterpiece level 10/10, still surpass my expectations. then.... The third LOTR: Return of The King is absolutely 10/10, absolutely surpass my expectations It's official that LOTR is the best trilogy of all time yet😅

Some CGI in this trilogy looks pretty bad at 4k

Yup.

The CGI was retextured in the remasters

@@ludwig2345 it does but a lot of the cgi isn't centre screen like modern films. they did as much as they could with physical props which makes it so much better then alot of modern film production

they should have updated the CGI of all movies with todays standards for 4k. "Lord of the Rings Extended 4Kings Edition" or smth...

1000%

i agree, but ultimately the hobbit's CGI is still honestly good. It did suffer in a few ways, but he broke ground in insane ways once again, and honestly probably more than in LOTR. Just as earlier 2000's CGI stood on his lotr film's shoulders, CG today stands on the shoulders of the hobbit. There's so much more actually happening CG in the BOTFA than any other mass battle in any movie, and people just miss it sadly.

i dont like hobbit in any way....

I hope you know that guilermo del toro was helming the prep for the hobbit and jp had to jump in last minute to direct so he couldn’t do much about story and planning special effects

PJ experimentation with 48fps in Hobbit backfired.

The LotR trilogy has a few weak CGI effects, but most of the noticeable ones are in the background. The Hobbit trilogy is partially really irritating with its effects, especially the Eagles and the Goblin King looked pretty ugly.

The chilling part about this scene is that the Witch-King said it like it is something to be feared, but then the horns of Rohan blew and minutes later, they are screaming "DEATH" proudly, embracing their inevitable fate with open arms. Truly a masterpiece!

This is the first time I saw this. Thanks lot man!

@@mojomahojo8253 Same here. But as someone who's been around horses... I know why this is the case. Horses are herd animals, and instinctually know to stay close to other horses as that typically means safety. Or in this case the horse really liked the guy riding him/her and was absolutely _pissed_

in the behind the scenes, the guy literally fell off his horse and it dragged on him across the field for some time. Fortunately, he survived and was ok. Scary moment but they kept the scene in for realness!

@@Tank50usur prolly right but imagining the horse was pissed is hilarious

I wholeheartedly agree with your choice of favourite scenes =)

It’s because it’s not easy lol, the sheer will and amount of work poured into this was amazing and daunting to most who just want an easy payday

DEAAAAAAAAAATHHH!! goosebumps all the way,

Still giving me gooseboomps 😱

CHAAARRRRRGE !!!

Forth* Eorlingas

Some excerpts from the book: 《Ever since the middle night the great assault had gone on. The drums rolled. To the north and to the south company upon company of the enemy pressed to the walls. There came great beasts, like moving houses in the red and fitful light, the _mûmakil_ of the Harad dragging through the lanes amid the fires huge towers and engines. Yet their Captain cared not greatly what they did or how many might be slain: their purpose was only to test the strength of the defence and to keep the men of Gondor busy in many places. It was against the Gate that he would throw his heaviest weight. Very strong it might be, wrought of steel and iron, and guarded with towers and bastions of indomitable stone, yet it was the key, the weakest point in all that high and impenetrable wall. The drums rolled louder. Fires leaped up. Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, orcs surrounded it, and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it. But about the Gate resistance still was stout, and there the knights of Dol Amroth and the hardiest of the garrison stood at bay. Shot and dart fell thick; siege-towers crashed or blazed suddenly like torches. All before the walls on either side of the Gate the ground was choked with wreck and with bodies of the slain; yet still driven as by a madness more and more came up. Grond crawled on. Upon its housing no fire would catch; and though now and again some great beast that hauled it would go mad and spread stamping ruin among the orcs innumerable that guarded it, their bodies were cast aside from its path and others took their place. Grond crawled on. The drums rolled wildly. Over the hills of slain a hideous shape appeared: a horseman, tall, hooded, cloaked in black. Slowly, trampling the fallen, he rode forth, heeding no longer any dart. He halted and held up a long pale sword. And as he did so a great fear fell on all, defender and foe alike; and the hands of men drooped to their sides, and no bow sang. For a moment all was still. The drums rolled and rattled. With a vast rush Grond was hurled forward by huge hands. It reached the Gate. It swung. A deep boom rumbled through the City like thunder running in the clouds. But the doors of iron and posts of steel withstood the stroke. Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone. Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face. All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast as a graven image in Rath Dínen. ‘You cannot enter here,’ said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. ‘Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!’ The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter. ‘Old fool!’ he said. ‘Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!’ And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade. Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn. And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last. [...] Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure. But the mind and will of the Black Captain were bent wholly on the falling city, and as yet no tidings came to him warning that his designs held any flaw. After a while the king led his men away somewhat eastward, to come between the fires of the siege and the outer fields. Still they were unchallenged, and still Théoden gave no signal. At last he halted once again. The City was now nearer. A smell of burning was in the air and a very shadow of death. The horses were uneasy. But the king sat upon Snowmane, motionless, gazing upon the agony of Minas Tirith, as if stricken suddenly by anguish, or by dread. He seemed to shrink down, cowed by age. Merry himself felt as if a great weight of horror and doubt had settled on him. His heart beat slowly. Time seemed poised in uncertainty. They were too late! Too late was worse than never! Perhaps Théoden would quail, bow his old head, turn, slink away to hide in the hills. Then suddenly Merry felt it at last, beyond doubt: a change. Wind was in his face! Light was glimmering. Far, far away, in the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning lay beyond them. But at that same moment there was a flash, as if lightning had sprung from the earth beneath the City. For a searing second it stood dazzling far off in black and white, its topmost tower like a glittering needle; and then as the darkness closed again there came rolling over the fields a great _boom._ At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before: _Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden!_ _Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!_ _spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,_ _a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!_ _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains. _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them. Éomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first _éored_ roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Théoden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Oromë the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City. [...] Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!’ [...] _Death_ they cried with one voice loud and terrible.》 - The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

RIDE FOR RUIN AND THE WORLDS ENDING DEATH!!! also that charge

I get constant goosebumps with movies like this...and then there are people who feel nothing when watching a scene like this.

Anyone else gets slightly watering eyes with their goosebumps? Or just me?

And then at 5:46 when the drums kick up a gear and the leitmotif switches from somber strings to heroic brass... *chef's kiss*

@@cgollimusic goosebumps, tears and the urge to scream lol

Just the sound of the horns almost teared me up.

I get shivers from the movie scene - which is understandable I think. The music, the visuals - totally engrossing. But, this passage in the book sends chills all the way down my spine, and through to my fingertips. Amazing how Tolkein could craft, out of black type on a white page, imagery and emotion vivid enough to kindle visceral hope, in even this stubborn pessimist.

I’m thankful That Tolkien penned these words to capture the essence of heroic deeds… what is contained in this passage is a hyper truth that moves us in a way we find lacking in our world…

How dare you cutting onions as I read this?

Tolkien, you precious beauty!

This passage gets me every damn time.

Dude was about to get 1000000EXP right there

Riding with conviction

when the gf tells you shes home alone

I bet this one is Will XD (when Gothmog sais "Fire at will!")

According to one of those totally not made up accounts, this dude had a conversation with Jackson about the importance of this scene. He was a real fan. Jackson was so impresses that he put him in the foreground

It's a hardanger fiddle that's why it sounds so unique

Not just anyone

Their courage reduced an army of hundreds of thousands to mowed grass

I decided i needed a boost in morale....so i watched this

here!

I am here

Im here

Every one 🎉

King Theoden was such a G

Yeah it was an amazing film, we were spoiled and I didn’t realize it at the time.

❤

Food for thought theoden raising his sword up the the spears was improvised, shows the brilliance of the actor to really hone in on the scene

I remember one time at a large Larp event when i was part of a one thousand strong army. When we charged the ground was trembling, when we let out a warcry the leaves of the trees were rustling. Not joking or exaggerating by the way. I saw the water in puddles ripple ahead of our charge and you could see the soundwave of our warcry hit the trees.

And now imagine the joint cavalry of the Holy League, led by King Jan III. Sobieski and the Winged Hussars, riding down the slopes of the Kahlenberg, 18,000 strong, to relieve Vienna in 1683. The largest cavalry charge in history. It must have been like an earthquake, a tsunami of horses, men and steel. Yes, Tolkien used the Siege and Battle of Vienna as a template for the Siege of Minas Tirith and the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

Some excerpts from the book: 《Ever since the middle night the great assault had gone on. The drums rolled. To the north and to the south company upon company of the enemy pressed to the walls. There came great beasts, like moving houses in the red and fitful light, the _mûmakil_ of the Harad dragging through the lanes amid the fires huge towers and engines. Yet their Captain cared not greatly what they did or how many might be slain: their purpose was only to test the strength of the defence and to keep the men of Gondor busy in many places. It was against the Gate that he would throw his heaviest weight. Very strong it might be, wrought of steel and iron, and guarded with towers and bastions of indomitable stone, yet it was the key, the weakest point in all that high and impenetrable wall. The drums rolled louder. Fires leaped up. Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, orcs surrounded it, and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it. But about the Gate resistance still was stout, and there the knights of Dol Amroth and the hardiest of the garrison stood at bay. Shot and dart fell thick; siege-towers crashed or blazed suddenly like torches. All before the walls on either side of the Gate the ground was choked with wreck and with bodies of the slain; yet still driven as by a madness more and more came up. Grond crawled on. Upon its housing no fire would catch; and though now and again some great beast that hauled it would go mad and spread stamping ruin among the orcs innumerable that guarded it, their bodies were cast aside from its path and others took their place. Grond crawled on. The drums rolled wildly. Over the hills of slain a hideous shape appeared: a horseman, tall, hooded, cloaked in black. Slowly, trampling the fallen, he rode forth, heeding no longer any dart. He halted and held up a long pale sword. And as he did so a great fear fell on all, defender and foe alike; and the hands of men drooped to their sides, and no bow sang. For a moment all was still. The drums rolled and rattled. With a vast rush Grond was hurled forward by huge hands. It reached the Gate. It swung. A deep boom rumbled through the City like thunder running in the clouds. But the doors of iron and posts of steel withstood the stroke. Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone. Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face. All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast as a graven image in Rath Dínen. ‘You cannot enter here,’ said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. ‘Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!’ The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter. ‘Old fool!’ he said. ‘Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!’ And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade. Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn. And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last. [...] Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure. But the mind and will of the Black Captain were bent wholly on the falling city, and as yet no tidings came to him warning that his designs held any flaw. After a while the king led his men away somewhat eastward, to come between the fires of the siege and the outer fields. Still they were unchallenged, and still Théoden gave no signal. At last he halted once again. The City was now nearer. A smell of burning was in the air and a very shadow of death. The horses were uneasy. But the king sat upon Snowmane, motionless, gazing upon the agony of Minas Tirith, as if stricken suddenly by anguish, or by dread. He seemed to shrink down, cowed by age. Merry himself felt as if a great weight of horror and doubt had settled on him. His heart beat slowly. Time seemed poised in uncertainty. They were too late! Too late was worse than never! Perhaps Théoden would quail, bow his old head, turn, slink away to hide in the hills. Then suddenly Merry felt it at last, beyond doubt: a change. Wind was in his face! Light was glimmering. Far, far away, in the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning lay beyond them. But at that same moment there was a flash, as if lightning had sprung from the earth beneath the City. For a searing second it stood dazzling far off in black and white, its topmost tower like a glittering needle; and then as the darkness closed again there came rolling over the fields a great _boom._ At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before: _Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden!_ _Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!_ _spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,_ _a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!_ _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains. _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them. Éomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first _éored_ roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Théoden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Oromë the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City. [...] Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!’ [...] _Death_ they cried with one voice loud and terrible.》 - The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

The sacrifice of faramir scene got me more 😢

I think it should still be there but as his sword starts to flame and the pressure is felt THEN the horn of rohan should ring. He ceases the flaming, and fly’s off to the recognised threat. And Gandalf keeps his staff.

Ladies and gentleman, this is what we call a combination of haste, first strike, and death touch 👌🏽

Some excerpts from the book: 《Ever since the middle night the great assault had gone on. The drums rolled. To the north and to the south company upon company of the enemy pressed to the walls. There came great beasts, like moving houses in the red and fitful light, the _mûmakil_ of the Harad dragging through the lanes amid the fires huge towers and engines. Yet their Captain cared not greatly what they did or how many might be slain: their purpose was only to test the strength of the defence and to keep the men of Gondor busy in many places. It was against the Gate that he would throw his heaviest weight. Very strong it might be, wrought of steel and iron, and guarded with towers and bastions of indomitable stone, yet it was the key, the weakest point in all that high and impenetrable wall. The drums rolled louder. Fires leaped up. Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay. Grond they named it, in memory of the Hammer of the Underworld of old. Great beasts drew it, orcs surrounded it, and behind walked mountain-trolls to wield it. But about the Gate resistance still was stout, and there the knights of Dol Amroth and the hardiest of the garrison stood at bay. Shot and dart fell thick; siege-towers crashed or blazed suddenly like torches. All before the walls on either side of the Gate the ground was choked with wreck and with bodies of the slain; yet still driven as by a madness more and more came up. Grond crawled on. Upon its housing no fire would catch; and though now and again some great beast that hauled it would go mad and spread stamping ruin among the orcs innumerable that guarded it, their bodies were cast aside from its path and others took their place. Grond crawled on. The drums rolled wildly. Over the hills of slain a hideous shape appeared: a horseman, tall, hooded, cloaked in black. Slowly, trampling the fallen, he rode forth, heeding no longer any dart. He halted and held up a long pale sword. And as he did so a great fear fell on all, defender and foe alike; and the hands of men drooped to their sides, and no bow sang. For a moment all was still. The drums rolled and rattled. With a vast rush Grond was hurled forward by huge hands. It reached the Gate. It swung. A deep boom rumbled through the City like thunder running in the clouds. But the doors of iron and posts of steel withstood the stroke. Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone. Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face. All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast as a graven image in Rath Dínen. ‘You cannot enter here,’ said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. ‘Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!’ The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter. ‘Old fool!’ he said. ‘Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!’ And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade. Gandalf did not move. And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the City, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn. And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin’s sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last. [...] Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure. But the mind and will of the Black Captain were bent wholly on the falling city, and as yet no tidings came to him warning that his designs held any flaw. After a while the king led his men away somewhat eastward, to come between the fires of the siege and the outer fields. Still they were unchallenged, and still Théoden gave no signal. At last he halted once again. The City was now nearer. A smell of burning was in the air and a very shadow of death. The horses were uneasy. But the king sat upon Snowmane, motionless, gazing upon the agony of Minas Tirith, as if stricken suddenly by anguish, or by dread. He seemed to shrink down, cowed by age. Merry himself felt as if a great weight of horror and doubt had settled on him. His heart beat slowly. Time seemed poised in uncertainty. They were too late! Too late was worse than never! Perhaps Théoden would quail, bow his old head, turn, slink away to hide in the hills. Then suddenly Merry felt it at last, beyond doubt: a change. Wind was in his face! Light was glimmering. Far, far away, in the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning lay beyond them. But at that same moment there was a flash, as if lightning had sprung from the earth beneath the City. For a searing second it stood dazzling far off in black and white, its topmost tower like a glittering needle; and then as the darkness closed again there came rolling over the fields a great _boom._ At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before: _Arise, arise, Riders of Théoden!_ _Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!_ _spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,_ _a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!_ _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ With that he seized a great horn from Guthláf his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains. _Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!_ Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them. Éomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first _éored_ roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but Théoden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Oromë the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City. [...] Over the field rang his clear voice calling: ‘Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world’s ending!’ [...] _Death_ they cried with one voice loud and terrible.》 - The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

The book version is epic as hell too, but I do like that the orcs actually breach the gate and run about in first ring of the city.