Robin Hood‘s biggest problem is its title. It shouldn’t have been called Robin Hood, or Nottingham or anything of the sort. Because, in fairness to the slew of critics who have pointed it out and based their entire review on this simple scruple, the film is not about Robin Hood, who “took from the rich and gave to the poor.” It’s not about Maid Marion, the spunky companion of Robin, or even King John, the slimy man who’s astonishing lack of accountability is the stuff of, well, legend. Russell Crowe is no Errol Flynn. But then, in fairness to Mr. Crowe and Mr. Scott, he was never trying to be. As a matter of fact, that was the point.
What the film is about (a torn England and the people who came together to save it) is fascinating. It’s the third film in Ridley Scott’s battle epic trilogy (Gladiator, Kingdom of Heaven: The Director’s Cut and Robin Hood), starting in Rome and ending in Sherwood Forest. All that’s missing is Camelot, but, considering Antoine Fuqua’s misstep, perhaps that’s a good thing.
The strongest of the three is Kingdom of Heaven, which starts exploring the vengeance that fuels all of Gladiator and ends with the noble democracy on display in Robin Hood. This narrative dynamism makes that film two times more dense than its companions.
But back to the topic at hand. Robin Hood finds a balance between realism and legend better than either of its two companions and enjoys itself while doing it. It’s by far the most grounded film in Scott’s trilogy and by far the funniest. And by no means is it a remake of Gladiator, as so many critics seems to think. The New Yorker‘s Anthony Lane writes: “The result cleaves so close to the opening of Scott’s “Gladiator” that you half wonder whether he filmed the two stories back to back and held this one in reserve for ten years.” Is that the best you can do by way of criticism? Both films open with a battle scene so they were filmed back to back? One features swords, the other arrows, one a forest, the other a castle. In one Russell Crowe’s character is the leader of an army. In the other, he’s bond to a wood block, watching the battle unfold only to desert with his friends after King Richard dies. Lane goes on to point out the similarities in Crowe’s two performances. Maximus opens the film a noble, loyal warrior, Robin Longstride a wise, selfish mercenary. That the Robin character becomes a noble, loyal warrior is true of course, but the path his character takes to get there is far deeper than anything Maximus is given to do.
Though his review be less than positive, A.O. Scott points some of the brilliance of the film’s opening: “Mr. Scott also sets up a neat little joke: the French, being French, have a bunch of chefs serving soup in the middle of the fight, one of whom picks up a bow and fires an arrow that will change the course of British history. The idea that an ordinary, anonymous person can have a big impact on world events is an attractively democratic notion…”
Scott goes on to say that the rest of the film proceeds to “undermine” said notion, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Simpleton Robin Longstride (Crowe), a soldier, finds a reason to fight for his country thanks to the love of a beautiful woman (Blanchett) and the unknown love of a dead father and the new found love of a new one, in Max Von Sydow’s Walter Loxley. Sure, it’s the quintessential hero’s journey, but with democracy constantly on the brain.
The film, rather than concerning “Robin of the Hood,” tells of the beginnings of the Magna Carta, the English Charter signed in June of 1215 which changed the course of Western politics. Robin Hood takes place 15 years before this moment in history and presents the charter as a gem from the past and a possibility for the future. In 5 years, Scott has made an epic about the Crusades and an epic about the Magna Carta. Call it what you want, those two key moments in Western history have never been tackled with such veracity, if at all.
And though the film be thick with characters and politics and subplot, it never gets boring. It moves quick and provides enough laughs to keep things light. Many, among them the good folk over at /Film, have pointed out the flatness of the Merry Men characters. When have they not been flat? They are, and have always been, punchlines. Writer Brian Helgeland is smart to use them solely for this purpose in this film, rather than giving them shallow back story (wasting precious screen time) a la Christian Slater’s Will Scarlet in Prince of Thieves.
Unlike recent narrative blunders like Iron Man 2, Robin Hood ties up its loose ends in regards to multiple subplots. Is it a little too cluttered? Sure it is. The Robin flashbacks may not have been needed, but they do serve a purpose. Everything here is a means to an end or, in this case, a beginning.
This fact seems to be critic’s biggest problem: that the film is a prequel of something not yet made. But, of course, it has been made. Over 30 times. And the majority of those times the results were tired and unsurprisingly repetitious. Those who criticize the film’s deceptive marketing are more than correct, but how far does it go? Films are manipulated by PR campaigns all of the time. Perhaps what makes this property different is that it’s valued, tried and true. It’s a name. It guarantees an opening weekend.
This is both a blessing and a curse. In the case of Robin Hood, it’s been a critical and financial (at least on the domestic front) curse. Had they not sold the film on the Robin Hood theme, and just focused of the Ridley Scott-Russell Crowe collaboration a la the epic scale (i.e. American Gangster) and brilliant abundance of archery it more than likely would have proven more successful critically and brought back higher domestic returns. But internationally (where the film is flourishing) perhaps not.
So, when considering the business end, it would seem Universal made a good (albeit safe) decision in terms of marketing.
People have been preparing to hate this movie for a long time. Be it the overblown production budget ($225 million before tax breaks) or the rumors of on-set turmoil, the buzz was never good, and it never really got any better.
Buzz. Someday someone will have to explain how buzz has helped the movie business. It certainly hasn’t helped Robin Hood. What a shame. Might as well all buy our tickets for Prince of Persia now. It’ll be a fun, stupid time at the movies. Because hey, if smart adult entertainment doesn’t make money anymore (and it doesn’t, at least not in America), Prince of Persia is all we’ll have.
What did you think of Robin Hood? Agree? Disagree?