Ralph Bakshi's 1978 animated Lord of the Rings stops at the gates of Mordor.
The article calls this the "best spiritual sequel ever made" to Tolkien's books. But a spiritual sequel ought to honor the source material's actual trajectory. And Tolkien's story doesn't end when Frodo reaches Mount Doom.
It ends in the Grey Havens, after the Scouring of the Shire, after the destruction of the Ring has forced the hobbits to reckon with what victory costs a small, innocent world. Bakshi's film abandons the narrative before any of that reckoning arrives.
Yet Peter Jackson's trilogy completes the entire arc. It finishes where Tolkien finishes and honors the books' architecture. The weight they place on aftermath and loss, the way Tolkien understood that the real work of the story is integrating the numinous back into the ordinary. If the criterion for a "spiritual sequel" is fidelity to the source, Jackson's films are manifestly more faithful. They executed what Bakshi couldn't.
The paradox collapses when you examine what the article actually claims to value. It praises Bakshi's work as purest vision and his incompleteness as evidence of artistic courage rather than failure. But artistic vision and thematic fidelity are not the same thing. A spiritual sequel requires you to go where the source goes. Bakshi doesn't. This matters because we live in an age that confuses artistic integrity with the refusal to finish.
The books demand that Bakshi's heroes survive their victory and discover it wasn't what they expected. Bakshi denies us this because he never reaches it. Jackson understood something the article misses. Honoring Tolkien meant doing the hard work of completion, of following the author's actual ending rather than stopping at the moment that flatters your own aesthetic choices. The test isn't whether you can begin something with style. It's whether you can carry someone all the way through and still move them when they arrive.