Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: Michael Sarnoski
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Jodie Comer, Bill Skarsgård, Murray Bartlett, Noah Jupe
Despite ongoing evidence that mainstream audiences have lost interest in the character, Hollywood insists on pumping out Robin Hood movies every few years. At time of writing, the marketing team behind Paul Greengrass's historical epic The Uprising is being widely mocked for having added the subtitle "The Rise of Robin Hood," despite Greengrass's film taking place two centuries after the era in which the Robin Hood tales were set. It suggests a complete lack of confidence that the suits felt they needed to tie The Uprising into an intellectual property that hasn't drawn crowds since 1991's Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.
The problem with Robin Hood movies is that they tend to be made by filmmakers who aren't really interested in making a Robin Hood movie. You could argue this is the case with The Death of Robin Hood, which completely shatters the established myth. But writer/director Michael Sarnoski has at least done something interesting with the character. Sarnoski has taken the revisionist western template and applied it to English folklore. It proves an ideal fit, for what are the tales of Robin Hood but westerns before their time? In the stories and ballads, Robin and his merry men are essentially the Magnificent Seven of their era.
There is little merry about Sarnoski's demythologising take however. As played by Hugh Jackman, this Robin did indeed steal from the rich, but he didn't give to the meek. He is a sociopathic bandit who enjoyed killing, and his lifestyle afforded him plenty of opportunities.
We find an aging Robin wandering the wastelands of England, merely surviving, his glory days long behind him. In the opening minutes he has killed a young woman and shot an arrow through the head of a young boy. Generations of families seek vengeance against Robin for his deeds, and the bodies pile up every time someone is naive enough to draw a blade against him.
Sarnoski's film opens with 30 minutes of bloody carnage as Robin reunites with Little John (another chameleonic turn from Bill Skarsgård), who enlists his aid in slaughtering the family that owns his land. After a bloody skirmish a wounded Robin wakes on an island, where Little John has left him in the care of a prioress, Sister Brigid (Jodie Comer). Here the prioress is the 13th century cousin of one of those doctors who tend to gangsters in films noir. She asks no questions of Robin, who is now going under the name of Randolph, simply demanding that while he recovers at the priory he pulls his weight.
Robin is put to work trapping rabbits and tending to the orchard. He is befriended by a leper (Murray Bartlett) who recognises Robin's true nature but is forgiving nonetheless, since he probably has a similar past himself. When Robin is united with Little John's young daughter Margaret (Faith Delaney), he develops a protective paternal relationship with the child. All is going well until the arrival of Arthur (Noah Jupe), a wounded young man whom Robin suspects is one of the many seeking revenge against him.
After its opening flurry of ultra-violence, The Death of Robin Hood switches gears so drastically that Sarnoski changes the aspect ratio from 2.41:1 to 1.66:1. The more compact ratio reflects the intimacy of the remainder of the film, which sees a chilled out Robin reflect on his life in the presence of the positive and calming influences of Brigid, Margaret and the leper. Having long lost his band of rogues, Robin has found a new family, but this one isn't made of murderous brigands.
Sarnoski's film is inspired by the ballad 'Robin Hood's Death', which is itself an expansion of 'A Gest of Robyn Hode'. But the real inspiration here surely comes from the western genre. There is much of Don Siegel's The Beguiled in Sarnoski's film, with Jackman's Robin taking the place of Clint Eastwood's wounded soldier. The idea of the bad man hiding from his sins and falling under the positive influence of a good woman is a long established staple of the western, but transferring it to such an unfamiliar setting as the misty moors of 13th century England makes it fresh again.
Jackman's portrayal of Robin might be the best since Errol Flynn, though they are wildly different depictions. Jackman does for the character as he did for Wolverine in Logan, taking a stale hero and turning him into a revisionist antihero. Robin's journey from cold-hearted villain to a man finally feeling the weight of his evil deeds is beautifully conveyed in Jackman's eyes, which initially seem dead yet come alive with warmth in the beatific presence of Brigid and Margaret. Comer is equally enthralling, imbuing Brigid with the sort of angelic aura possessed by the most caring of nurses. Newcomer Delaney tugs at the heartstrings with a largely silent performance that never retreats into cutesy mawkishness. We believe Delaney as a child who has survived unimaginable horrors, but a child nonetheless.
It is in the character of Margaret that we come to see how the inspiring legend will ultimately prevail over the unpalatable reality. Robin is compelled to prove a good role model, sheltering the child from his true ways. He also knows that she will become a target for vengeful killers by association. It is Margaret that will carry and spread the tales of Robin Hood, even if they are the lies of a parental figure who wants to ensure the next generation doesn't repeat their mistakes. There is a touch of Cagney's demise in Angels with Dirty Faces in the film's final moments as Robin reinvents himself for the sake of a child, lest they string a bow and follow his terrible lead.
The Death of Robin Hood is in UK/ROI cinemas from September 2nd.
