The Death Of Robin Hood (15)

Robin Hood is a shaggy-haired and straggly-bearded shadow of the man once venerated in folklore, living in solitude in mid-13th-century England. He reunites briefly with Little John, who has taken an assumed name, to help his friend reclaim property and pride using the language of violence. Robin is badly wounded in the melee and under the name of Randolph, he seeks refuge at a priory where Sister Brigid nurses him back to health. She is blissfully unaware of Randolph's true identity.

LondonNet Film Review

The Death Of Robin Hood (15) Film Review from LondonNet

The last two major motion pictures dedicated to the English folk hero galloped through well-trodden pastures. Ridley Scott’s self-titled 2010 romp with Russell Crowe in the lead role stampeded historical accuracy beneath the hooves of bombastic action sequences while Otto Bathurst’s 2018 picture engineered a bewildering battle royale between Taron Egerton’s returning crusader and Ben Mendelsohn’s boo-hiss Sheriff of Nottingham, with Jamie Foxx a curious addition as Little John. Director Michael Sarnoski, who previously made A Quiet Place: Day One, gets down and dirty in the muck and grime of AD 1247 England for this gloomy, revisionist take on Robin Hood, focusing on the outlaw’s final years as he wearily awaits retribution for manifold sins of the past. Death does not come quickly…

Robin (Hugh Jackman) is a shaggy-haired and straggly-bearded shadow of the man once venerated in folklore, living in solitude in mid-13th-century England and occasionally calling upon his archery and fighting skills to repel attempts on his life. Robin reunites briefly with Little John (Bill Skarsgard), who has taken an assumed name, and agrees to help his friend reclaim property and pride using the language of violence. Robin is badly wounded in the melee and under the name of Randolph, he seeks refuge at a priory where Sister Brigid (Jodie Comer) nurses him back to health. She is blissfully unaware of Randolph’s true identity and he has good reason to conceal it from her since she has a grudge to bear against the elusive outlaw.

Robin rediscovers forgiveness and fragments of his humanity through his interactions with a leper (Murray Bartlett), who acts as a caretaker at the priory. Little John’s daughter Margaret (Faith Delaney) arrives unexpectedly and Randolph takes her under his wing. In return, she agrees to keep Robin’s secret, but the past eventually catches up with him.

The Death Of Robin Hood dismisses a conventional depiction of the title character as an authority-flouting redistributor of privileged wealth. From the first moment Jackman appears on screen looking like a wind-ravaged player from a Shakespearean tragedy, Sarnowski’s lethargic script languishes for extended periods in silences soaked with regret as a brutish murderer reflects on a lifetime dodging consequence and justice. The relentlessly sombre tone and subversion of (super) heroic ideals are reminiscent of Jackman’s gritty Wolverine swansong, Logan, but the dramatic pay-off in Sarnowski’s picture is less satisfying.

Jackman’s accent goes wandering across windswept moors and doesn’t settle comfortably in one geographical region, but he is convincingly tortured in close-up. Comer offers strong support in surprisingly limited screen time. Concealed beneath impressive prosthetics, Bartlett commands his scenes by stealth. He is one heart-tugging revision to justify a two-hour running time that occasionally feels like wading through thick, choking mud.

– Jo Planter