ROBIN HOOD (2010)
In 12th-century England, Robin Longstride and his band of marauders confront corruption in a local village and lead an uprising against the crown that will forever alter the balance of world power.
Exactly 10 years after Ridley Scott and Russell Crowe teamed up to make Gladiator (2000), the epic Ancient Roman film whose cultural legacy would be considered a career-high for almost anyone not named Ridley Scott, the duo returned for a reinterpretation of the legend of Robin Hood. That’s not to say Crowe didn’t star in any of the director’s films since then, but Robin Hood and Gladiator share a number of similarities that are made remarkable by how different both stories appear in theory. The tales of Robin Hood are primarily ones of merriment, and while Gladiator protagonist Maximus Decimus Meridius (Crowe) is an honourable leader and a good man, he’d be a severe mismatch in a traditional adaptation of the stories of the theatrical figure who steals from the rich and gives to the poor, a reimagining of criminal outlaws with enough of a simplistic moral bent and lack of edge to appeal to children.
And yet, improbable as it may be, Crowe is essentially playing Maximus 2.0 here, only with an accent so variable that, in one scene, he switches between attempts at Irish and English brogues within a handful of sentences! (While it’s true that Crowe’s interpretation of the former doesn’t sound accurate, the main thrust of it feels authentic enough that it works as an antiquated interpretation. However, when one recognises that this wasn’t his goal whatsoever, with the implication that he sounded Irish in the film prompting him to storm out of a BBC Radio 4 interview, it becomes significantly more underwhelming.) When he’s not (accidentally) coming across as vaguely Irish, he sounds incredibly similar to Maximus.
He’s playing into other elements of that character here, too. Instead of being a merry fellow with a whimsical bent, Crowe’s interpretation of Robin Hood is serious and self-serious, a natural leader who makes up for a lack of charisma with his mixture of good morals and dependability. There’s a quiet assurance that Crowe effortlessly brings to characters like these, never leaving those who interact with Robin Hood in doubt about his ability to carry out his ambitions and desires. In this case, he starts off as a humble foot soldier (a common archer to be specific) and finds himself continually masquerading as other people to get ahead.
He starts by assuming the identity of a dead English knight with his Merry Men, then pretending to be Sir Robert Loxley (Douglas Hodge). The latter is killed by Godfrey (Mark Strong), an English knight conspiring with King Philip of France (Jonathan Zaccaï) to assassinate the King of England, Richard the Lionheart (Danny Huston). He then works against Richard’s successor and brother John (Oscar Isaac) while pretending to be a trusted ally. It’s not a convoluted plot, though the machinations of war and political conflicts do feel entirely disanalogous to the simplistic tales of Robin Hood that most readers will be familiar with.
In adapting this series of legends, Ridley Scott upholds its paper-thin exploration of morality, but abandons all notions of fun for a standard medieval epic that would feel better-suited to almost any other intellectual property. This is the kind of film that has one immediately pivoting to descriptives like ‘solid’ and ‘sturdy’ to describe it, as if it’s a dependable, high-quality fridge instead of a work of art. Scott knows how to stage a good battle scene, with screenwriter Brian Helgeland giving the director plenty of opportunity to do that here, all of which are entertaining to behold. Robin Hood is well-shot and well-choreographed, with ample opportunity to feel immersed in the spectacle of small groups of foes battling for their lives in a forest, or armies attempting to stamp out their rivals on a beach. The technical elements are all there, but there’s nothing soulful or hearty underpinning the project.
Robin is asked by the dead knight’s father, Sir Walter (Max Von Sydow), to continue pretending to be Robert to prevent the Crown from seizing the family’s assets. Obliging this elderly blind man, Robin comes into contact with Robert’s wife Marion (Cate Blanchett), who must also keep up this ruse. By pretending to be husband and wife, the pair soon fall for one another, aided by a number of contrivances, like Marion’s request for the family’s servants to remove Robin’s chainmail falling on deaf ears, forcing her to do it and witness his bare chest, or Walter asking her whether or not Robin is handsome. Unsurprisingly, the elderly man declares not long after this that he’s in good spirits, having helped oversee a new relationship begin to blossom. These contrived efforts at romance might be utterly shameless on the film’s part, but the real kicker is that they feel like a waste of Blanchett and Sydow’s efforts.
These supremely talented actors are never given room to produce extraordinary performances, which carries over to as-yet unmentioned actors and actresses in this stacked cast, like Mathew McFadyen (Succession), Léa Seydoux (No Time To Die), and Simon McBurney (Nosferatu). It’s only Oscar Isaac who provides a truly stellar performance as the new King of England, a title that allows this brash, crude, and cocky fellow the opportunity to further bolster his overconfidence. Since he’s neither the protagonist nor antagonist in this film, it makes utterly no sense for him to be the only principal cast member in a movie about Robin Hood to demonstrate the slightest hint of a comedic bent. As he persists in his efforts as King, the comedy dwindles, making one wonder why it ever existed in the first place (despite how entertaining these scenes were). Purely based on entertainment value, Isaac has by far the best role in the film.
Robin’s Merry Men are quite amusing, but are given just a small handful of scenes to demonstrate this, usually during interactions that have little bearing on the plot, like their late-night conquests in a region where most of the men have left home due to the war, offering plenty of female partners for a night —or knight’s— company. It’s not just that they’re inconsequential because they barely impact this plot, they also have little influence on Robin. This protagonist is so frustratingly assured that he seems to bear no need for friendship, let alone mirth.
Voicing these critiques feels like a losing effort, since it’s clear Scott never had any interest in the character of Robin Hood. That was merely a popular, flashy name that could be used to justify a high-budget period film with plenty of action set pieces, a simple tale of good versus evil, and a sturdy yet unmoving attempt at a rags-to-riches journey. But that also means that Scott and Helgeland can’t find something original to work with, since on a basic level they’re shackled by this oh-so-virtuous hero, who must always remain a humble warrior who deserves so much more in life than this cruel world will allot. The filmmaking in Robin Hood might be solid, but it is uninspired and unoriginal at its very core, failing to justify its 150-minute runtime.
UK • USA | 2010 | 140 MINUTES | 2.39:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • FRENCH • UKRAINIAN
Cast & Crew
director: Ridley Scott.
writer: Brian Helgeland (story by Brian Helgeland, Ethan Reiff & Cyrus Voris).
starring: Russell Crowe, Cate Blanchett, Mark Strong, Oscar Isaac, William Hurt, Mark Addy, Danny Huston, Max Von Sydow, Matthew Macfadyen & Léa Seydoux.
