Lessons in Healthy Masculinity: From Middle-Earth to the Junkyard

Some thoughts, stitched together with glitter and lembas bread

Recently, I noticed something while rewatching Cats (1999) and The Lord of the Rings trilogy back-to-back (as one does). Somewhere between Rum Tum Tugger's hips and Samwise Gamgee's emotional speeches, a revelation hit me like a spotlight on a theater cat: these two wildly different worlds are teaching the same lesson about emotional connection and healthy masculinity.

In Lord of the Rings, men hug. They cry. They leap into each other’s arms. They hold hands and whisper their love, not just in words, but in actions. Frodo leans on Sam. Aragorn openly grieves. Pippin and Merry fall asleep clutching each other after battle. And not once does their masculinity feel diminished. If anything, their vulnerability deepens their strength.

Then there are the Jellicles. In the 1999 production (we don’t speak of 2019), male and female cats alike nuzzle, dance, play, and curl up in one enormous, communal cuddle pile. There is no shame in comfort. No teasing for tenderness. When Mr. Mistoffelees pulls off his magical coup and retrieves Old Deuteronomy from the mysterious fifth dimension (or possibly Cleveland), he doesn’t just take a bow. He bounds into Deuteronomy's arms like a child who’s just aced a school recital. Rum Tum Tugger—the chaotic glam-rock flirt himself—stares in awe, visibly touched.

And the first to extend empathy to Grizabella? The kittens. Jemima and Victoria see past the scorn of their elders and reach out with paws full of compassion. It’s not the adults who welcome her back; it’s the youth who model grace.

It’s easy to dismiss these displays as "soft" or overly sentimental, but here's the thing: there's nothing weak about compassion. There is nothing unmanly about affection. The men of Middle-earth and the Jellicles of the junkyard exist in worlds full of peril, prejudice, mystery, and music. Yet they remain open. They reach out. They love each other loudly.

We live in a world still untangling itself from toxic masculinity. And maybe what we need isn’t just more stoic action heroes or gritty drama. Maybe we need more radiant theater cats and hobbits with trembling hands.

So yes. Let Frodo hold Sam. Let Munkustrap guard the kittens. Let Bombalurina be angry that Tugger dropped her (literally). Let everyone pile up together in a glittery nap heap after a long Jellicle night.

In the end, the lesson is simple: Be brave. Be kind. Wear rhinestones. Hug your friends.