Mount Doom
A few years ago, late one Autumn afternoon, I was driving West along the A27 on a mission from God job for my then-client. The weather had been foul, with rain sheeting down and even the occasional bit of hail. It wasn't a pleasant drive.

That is, it wasn't pleasant until I passed Chichester and left those interminable roundabouts behind. The road stretched out, uninterrupted, for miles ahead of me, and the rain stopped. Not gradually, gently easing off from a torrential downpour by way of a light drizzle, but suddenly. Behind me was a wall of water, and in front of me was dry air.

The clouds ahead of me were lit from behind by the setting sun, and the sun's rays broke through in a couple of places. The light from the sun scattered in strange and wonderful ways, and the shadowing turned the undersides of the clouds almost black while their tops were coloured alternately deep, dark red, and a rusty, brownish-orange. The light faded rapidly, the sky went dark, and all I could see was a cloudscape which reminded me of lava.

It looked just like I was driving into Mordor.
( flake has nothing against your right leg, Sat 7 Aug 2010, 21:03, 3 replies)

Shorter film
"Fire up the Quattro, Sam - we're gonna stick this bastard ring up Sauron's brown eye!"
(sarcastic fringehead feet of clay, buns of steel, head of lettuce, Sat 7 Aug 2010, 23:59, closed)

you should have gone by eagle
it would have been much faster
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sun 8 Aug 2010, 0:10, closed)

driving into Mordor
Locally most people call it Portsmouth
(Pilsbury, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 10:08, closed)