The Death of Robin Hood delivers a visually compelling and sombre deconstruction of the medieval legend, yet the thick fog of pretention laid by director Michael Sarnoski denies any emotional stakes to shine.
There have been many cinematic interpretations of the Robin Hood legend ranging from 70s Disney animation to early 90s blockbuster. Now we have the A24 take and true to form The Death of Robin Hood is oh-so-serious!
Directed and written by Michael Sarnoski (Pig), The Death of Robin Hood adapts the late 17th century ballad “Robin Hood’s Death” into a deconstruction approach that feels both outdated and self-aggrandising; another tale of doom and gloom that takes an inspirational legendary figure and inverts him into a savage fossil of death in a bid to look cool for the arthouse kids.
Hugh Jackman stars as the title character; a wiry vessel of violence with flowing silver mane and complimentary beard, living in the fog-driven mountains where he is surrounded by the graves of those foolish enough to seek revenge. When Robin agrees to help his old ally Little John (Bill Skarsgaard) in one last fight, the ensuing battle leaves Robin near deaths door. The outlaw subsequently finds himself under the care of Sister Brigid (Jodie Comer) the prioress of a rural nunnery on a secluded island. It is here where Robin reckons with the sins of his past while also forming a fatherly-bond with John’s daughter Little Margaret (Faith Delaney.)
The Death of Robin Hood supposedly deals with the topic of myth versus reality and the power of storytelling, yet one would never guess that was the case with Sarnoski unable to make his points pierce the veneer of a self-serious atmosphere that the Pig director lays on thick. The dripping condescension of Sarnoski’s pretentious approach stick to every facet of this gluttonously-depressing film like shit of fur.
Hugh Jackman’s rugged charisma manages to bring some personality to a Robin Hood who is so pitifully drenched in the blood of generations that it is hard to feel for this incarnation of Grizzly Adams via Sherwood Forrest during key moments when some humanity manages to break his rusty shell. Jodie Cormer succeeds in representing some light amongst the gloom as a prioress whose charity matches her beauty.
The violence of The Death of Robin Hood is suitably extreme in this post-Game of Thrones era where anything goes (women and children first) yet nothing is gained by witnessing such brutality, save for a stain upon the soul.
What is deserving of high praise, however, is the striking cinematography from Pat Scola (Sing Sing) who captures the beauty of Northern Island – especially Murlough Bay – on 35mm film with as much natural light as possible, with The Death of Robin Hood featuring some of the most stunning locations this year. Hopefully in the future these locales will play host to a much better film.
