When Frosty and I saw THE TWO TOWERS, a little girl who'd been seated next to us by her mother was quiet and well behaved for the whole three hours except during the scene when Arwen osculates Aragorn, whereupon she emitted a squeal of embarrassment and delight (the little girl, not Arwen) and was convulsed with giggles. This scene was the high point of the movie for me too. Just like her daddy, Liv Tyler has quite a mouth. She's the best soft kisser in the history of Hollywood.

No one, however, is hoping for a kiss from Gollum, who likes to snack on raw fish and coney entrails. The little charmer has been computer generated so expertly that enthusiastic fans are clamoring for him . . . it . . . whatever . . . to receive an Academy Award nomination. Apparently computer-generated creatures are more convincing when kept in motion -- poor Gollum squirms, shivers, writhes, cringes, lunges, and slithers continuously, never resting, and with his clammy greenish skin and skeletal physique, he seems to be not so much a representation of Tolkien's sorrowful hobbit-turned-monster as a famine victim brought back to life by massive injections of methamphetamine.

The other computer-generated creatures are also expertly created though probably not quite what Tolkien had in mind. I must confess that Frosty and I enjoyed the supersized four-tusked pachyderms, the rabid barrel-chested wargs, and the sleek black dragons with plesiosaurian necks and heads that the bad guys ride into battle. Even the Ents are passably entertaining, though it's hard not to snicker when confronted by a tree that speaks softly and carries a big stick, especially one that looks like it came straight out of a Silly Symphony cartoon.

Oh, oh. I'm starting to slide into sarcasm, something I promised myself I wouldn't do when I sat down to write this review. Quickly now -- let's give credit where credit is due. By crosscutting three separate story lines, Jackson keeps the pace lively and brisk, so brisk, in fact, that THE TWO TOWERS may well be the fastest moving three-hour epic ever made. And the acting is solid. (Actually, I do have a complaint about the acting. Superwimp Elijah Woods is capable of only one expression -- boyish anxiety. Every time the camera zeroes in on Frodo's panicky eyes, I can't help but think he's not a hobbit but rather a thirteen-year-old lad who's just been disturbed by the sound of his mother’s footsteps during a moment of intimate self-discovery.

We should all be grateful, I suppose, that Jackson chose to follow Tolkien fairly closely rather than presumptuously attempting to improve the original by changing it completely, as so many filmmakers do when adapting a novel to the screen. Purists have been bitching about numerous minor changes (for example, in the movie Hama dies in the warg battle instead of at Helm's Deep, as he does in the book), but the plot's not been changed in any major way. What has been changed in a major way, unfortunately, is the emphasis. In Tolkien's trilogy, less than ten per cent of the page space is devoted to heartpounding action, but in Jackson's movie, heartpounding action comprises the majority of our viewing time. Lost are nearly all of the philosophical musings, the depth of characterization, the immense and richly detailed tapestry of Middle Earth's history, the gentle moments, the quiet moments, the poetry, and what remains is -- for all its gloss and grandeur -- just one more overblown Hollywood adolescent male wish-fulfillment combat flick, replete with all of the customary clichés. It's hard not to groan when the stout dwarf Gimli and the ultracool elf Legolas, up to their necks in a sea of enemy warriors, pause between sword strokes to exchange glib wisecracks. And what would Tolkien say if he could see Legolas leap onto a shield and slide down a steep flight of stone steps, shooting arrows as he descends? (Perhaps this stunt will result in a new event at the Winter X-Games -- a snowboarding and archery biathlon.)

Let me wrap this puppy up by saying that a great movie is a memorable movie, and every memorable movie leaves you with something lasting, something you'll never forget. As Frosty and I bicycled home after THE TWO TOWERS, one thought kept recurring in my mind, and I knew then and I know now that it'll keep on recurring till the day I die: that scoundrel Saruman is a real skinflint not to give his orcs a decent dental plan.