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Russell Crowe teams up with director Ridley Scott for the fifth time with Robin Hood. It’s difficult to forget the massive entertainment these two forces brought audiences with 2000’s Gladiator, and with similar promises of Crowe sporting armor and archery, bloody civil war battle scenes and a love story complete with Cate Blanchett, Robin Hood vows to be a timeless epic adventure.
Right…? Wrong.
The classic tale of Robin Hood brings to mind certain unalienable concepts. 13th century battles won with fiery bows and arrows. Robbing the rich to feed the poor. The dynamic between Marion and Hood. Ridley Scott’s version of the story dangles the Crowe-in-armor carrot in front of unassuming audiences this weekend, only for moviegoers to discover Crowe isn’t even playing Robin Hood.
Here Crowe is actually Robin Longstride, an archer in King Richard’s army who takes fate into his own hands after finding the king and some of his best men dead on the battlefield. Assuming the identity of fallen knight Robert Loxely, Robin and his friends deliver the king’s crown to Queen Eleanor (Eileen Atkins).
The film is more of a poorly guided history lesson than the justice-seeking, triumphant Hood tale audiences are used to. Newly appointed King John (Oscar Isaac) can barely contain his excitement over his brother’s death; now he can publicly blame mom for paying France a hefty ransom to get Richard out of jail that left England in debt. He can also pinky swear to his trusting subjects, led now by Robin “of the hood,” that he’ll sign a charter guaranteeing them certain rights if they all fight for England.
I could be wrong, but I don’t think audiences thought they were paying $10 to learn about the horrors of King John and the Magna Carta when they signed up for the director of Gladiator’s version of Robin Hood.
The film feels similar to Gladiator. It’s almost uncomfortable to watch Crowe’s scenes with Max Von Sydow, who plays Loxely’s father, Sir Walter. Audiences will remember Von Sydow’s crucial father-son-like relationship with Crowe in Gladiator, a bond mimicked throughout this film. The following of armor-clad citizens being led by Crowe to possible death is oddly familiar, but ever so much more dull and forcibly didactic with Hood.
Between sub-plots involving English traitors close to the king, Robin uncovering the meaning of his father’s death when he was a child, and a pretend-turned-(surprise!)-real relationship with Marion, it’s possible to actually miss the few Robin Hood-esque moments in Robin Hood.
Doze off for a second (and you might) in the first hour and you’ll miss one of the film’s two master archer follow-Robin’s-arrow-to-the-target moments. And there’s something to be said of the fist-pumping speeches given by this Robin. There are none, really. Only a short lecture the length of a Rhianna ring tone (and probably just as inspiring) describing a country’s need for equality of income to preserve honor. Honor schm-onor.
Whether it’s King John lying to England or Robin impersonating someone he is not, there are few honorable moments or storylines to follow here. Perhaps it’s fitting for modern audiences to watch someone masquerade publicly as a hero, promising citizens things they won’t get. Some might agree that Americans are fairly used to disappointment by now – they just didn’t expect it from Crowe and Scott.
Right…? Wrong.
The classic tale of Robin Hood brings to mind certain unalienable concepts. 13th century battles won with fiery bows and arrows. Robbing the rich to feed the poor. The dynamic between Marion and Hood. Ridley Scott’s version of the story dangles the Crowe-in-armor carrot in front of unassuming audiences this weekend, only for moviegoers to discover Crowe isn’t even playing Robin Hood.
Here Crowe is actually Robin Longstride, an archer in King Richard’s army who takes fate into his own hands after finding the king and some of his best men dead on the battlefield. Assuming the identity of fallen knight Robert Loxely, Robin and his friends deliver the king’s crown to Queen Eleanor (Eileen Atkins).
The film is more of a poorly guided history lesson than the justice-seeking, triumphant Hood tale audiences are used to. Newly appointed King John (Oscar Isaac) can barely contain his excitement over his brother’s death; now he can publicly blame mom for paying France a hefty ransom to get Richard out of jail that left England in debt. He can also pinky swear to his trusting subjects, led now by Robin “of the hood,” that he’ll sign a charter guaranteeing them certain rights if they all fight for England.
I could be wrong, but I don’t think audiences thought they were paying $10 to learn about the horrors of King John and the Magna Carta when they signed up for the director of Gladiator’s version of Robin Hood.
The film feels similar to Gladiator. It’s almost uncomfortable to watch Crowe’s scenes with Max Von Sydow, who plays Loxely’s father, Sir Walter. Audiences will remember Von Sydow’s crucial father-son-like relationship with Crowe in Gladiator, a bond mimicked throughout this film. The following of armor-clad citizens being led by Crowe to possible death is oddly familiar, but ever so much more dull and forcibly didactic with Hood.
Between sub-plots involving English traitors close to the king, Robin uncovering the meaning of his father’s death when he was a child, and a pretend-turned-(surprise!)-real relationship with Marion, it’s possible to actually miss the few Robin Hood-esque moments in Robin Hood.
Doze off for a second (and you might) in the first hour and you’ll miss one of the film’s two master archer follow-Robin’s-arrow-to-the-target moments. And there’s something to be said of the fist-pumping speeches given by this Robin. There are none, really. Only a short lecture the length of a Rhianna ring tone (and probably just as inspiring) describing a country’s need for equality of income to preserve honor. Honor schm-onor.
Whether it’s King John lying to England or Robin impersonating someone he is not, there are few honorable moments or storylines to follow here. Perhaps it’s fitting for modern audiences to watch someone masquerade publicly as a hero, promising citizens things they won’t get. Some might agree that Americans are fairly used to disappointment by now – they just didn’t expect it from Crowe and Scott.