Robin Hood Review
By Karen Dahlstrom
Back to the "Hood"
There have been countless cinematic depictions of the Robin Hood story. Some classic (Errol Flynn), some positively wretched (Kevin Costner and Mel Brooks, I'm looking at you). But brilliant or blah, all renderings of the Sherwood Forest bandit seem to agree that his character is sly, charming, has a bit of an ego problem, and enjoys running around in green tights. "Robin Hood," directed by Ridley Scott and starring Russell Crowe, takes all those preconceived notions and turns them upside down. Worry not about an American-accented band of mulleted merry men. Part origin story, part reboot, this new addition to the canon is a grittier, more muscular, and more contemplative take on the Nottinghamshire legend.
The main deviation from the legend, purists will note, is that Hood is not Robin of Loxley by birth, but Robin Longstride (Crowe), a beefy and brooding deadeye archer in the army of King Richard the Lionheart (played by a rather leonine Danny Huston). Robin is a man of few words and some integrity, but not above running a few games of Three-card Monte or throwing a few fists in the army camp. Mostly, he's just tired of fighting for a cause he doesn't believe in.
The story picks up at the end of the Crusades, as Richard's forces are attempting one last siege before returning home to England after ten long years. Like most of the action scenes in the film, the battle is chaotic, dirty and brutal, but brief and fairly bloodless (PG-13 rating, after all). At the end of the fighting, the king lay dead and his aide-de-camp, Sir Robert Loxley, is mortally wounded by a traitor, Sir Godfrey (Mark Strong). Coming across Loxley, Robin is asked to take his sword back to his father and wife in Nottingham. With his friends Little John, Allan A'Dayle and Will Scarlet, Robin journeys home to honor the dying knight's request.
As we already know, all is not well back home in Old Blighty. Richard's younger brother, the weaselly King John (Oscar Isaac), has assumed the throne and is bleeding the country dry to refill the coffers of the crown. His main advisor, Sir Godfrey, is secretly working to engineer a civil war and prepare the way for a French invasion. Meanwhile, the English citizenry are barely able to keep body and soul together, including Sir Walter Loxley (Max von Sydow) and his feisty daughter-in-law, Lady Marian (Cate Blanchett). With the arrival of the Robin in Nottingham, the elderly Loxley sees an opportunity to safeguard his lands and asks the stranger to assume the identity of his dead son.
Marian, for her part, is not enthusiastic about Walter's proposal. But being a practical sort of person, she soon sees the benefits of having a strapping man around the manor. Their relationship is tentative, even contentious at first, but eventually they develop a kinship and soon join forces to fight against the tyranny of the likes of King John, Sir Godfrey, and the Sheriff of Nottingham (Matthew Macfayden).
Blanchett is glorious (and, as always, accent-appropriate) as the strong-willed, kind-hearted Marian, and Crowe's thoughtful, quiet take on Robin is refreshing and fascinating to watch. When the two are together, the screen fairly crackles with electricity. Their chemistry is a welcome change from the long spate of sparkless romantic comedies and teen melodramas. When Marian drily orders Robin to share her bedchamber for the sake of appearances, Crowe's low rumbling reply, "Ask me nicely," is enough to make any fiercely independent lady's knees turn to jelly.
For most, the relationship between Marian and Robin will be enough to justify the price of the ticket. Stellar supporting performances by Eileen Atkins (as the steely Eleanor of Aquitaine) and Isaac's petulant, decadent King John help to keep things moving while Scott and writer Brian Helgeland fill out the rest of the story with references to politics and philosophical issues of the time — or of other times (historical accuracy doesn't seem to be much of a concern). For fans of castle-storming and battle scenes, there's a smattering of boiling oil and swordfighting, but Scott saves the best battle for the end — a sort of D-Day hand-to-hand melee in the roaring surf as French soldiers storm the coast of England in medieval wooden Higgins boats (again, historical accuracy is not Job One). The point is really to entertain rather than teach a history lesson, and more often than not, "Robin Hood" hits the mark.
