Directed by Ridley Scott. Starring Russell Crowe , Cate Blanchett, William Hurt, Mark Strong, Matthew Macfadyen, Oscar Isaac, Lea Seydoux, Max von Sydow, Danny Huston, Eileen Atkins 12A cert, gen release, 140 min
Russell Crowe's surly charisma is well-suited to Ridley Scott's revisionist take on Robin Hood, a decidely downbeat, plot-heavy adventure, writes DONALD CLARKEin Cannes
WHAT MAKES a Robin Hood film a Robin Hood film? Well, there has to be some stealing from the rich and a little giving to the poor. You, surely, must have a Maid Marion, a Friar Tuck and a Sheriff of Nottingham. Ideally, there should be a sequence in which Robin disguises himself as a beggar in order to sneak into an archery competition. Oh, and there should be plenty of revels during which hairy men swill foaming mugs of ale while bellowing songs about “fair maidens”.
Ridley Scott’s profoundly peculiar quasi-deconstruction of the durable myth certainly delivers in the area of revels and bellows. Barely a minute goes past without the characters stopping to smash tankards and deliver vocal impersonations of reversing tractors. (Arrrrrrrrr!) Few of the other criteria above are, however, met to any significant degree.
Cate Blanchett plays somebody called Marion, but, as a widow, the character does not qualify as a maid. There is a sheriff, but, in the oily form of Matthew Macfadyen, he makes just two or three brief, peripheral appearances. There’s only one conspicuous example of pro-active wealth-distribution and, most disgracefully, nobody disguises him- or herself as any sort of beggar. Robin Hood, my eye!
There’s nothing wrong with the idea of reupholstering a familiar legend. But this intermittently successful, occasionally rather preposterous picture seems desperately unsure as to which unchartered path it wishes to take. Drunk at the wheel, it misses no opportunity to crash off the thoroughfare and career towards any visible flashing light.
We begin with an inadvisable, presumably unintentional recreation of the French Castle sequence from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Robin Longstride, played with satisfactory sub-woofer oomph by Russell Crowe, is one of many English soldiers making their way back from the Crusades.
As they progress through France, under the command of King Richard 1 (Danny Huston), they waste no opportunity to annihilate Frenchmen and make debris of their castles. The defenders do not actually tell les rosbifsto boil their bottoms, but they come close.
This is, perhaps, the first Robin Hoodwith a proper plot. Indeed,
the story, written to bits by Brian Helgeland, is sufficiently convoluted to discourage mid-film lavatory breaks.
Following King Richard’s death (pardon?), Robin, now posing as a deceased knight named Loxley, makes his way back to England with the monarch’s crown. Prince John, as lusty and decadent as ever, pops the item on his head and begins prancing round like a ninny.
A decent sort at heart, though rough at the corners, Robin decides to return Loxley’s sword to his widow in Nottingham. She, of course, turns out to be not-Maid Marion. Before Robin can make his escape, the woman’s father-in-law (the eternal Max Von Sydow) talks him into helping out with a cunning scheme. In order to ensure that Marion can keep her land, Robin will pretend to be her late husband.
Recalling Robin and Marion, Richard Lester's investigation of the outlaw's later years, the developing romance is all the more touching for its involving (comparatively) middle-aged actors.
Hegeland and Scott have, however, other strands to tease out. There's a great deal of chatter about a plot by the French to infiltrate the English court. There's an enormous amount of boring intrigue involving disappointed nobility. There's more controversy about taxes than in any mainstream film since The Phantom Menace.
Scott has certainly cast the film impeccably (Mark Addy as Tuck, Eileen Atkins as Eleanor of Aquitaine), and the medieval ambience, though historically inaccurate, is carried off with old-school, mead-soaked panache. Sadly, the many diversions are too ill-conceived to make up for the film's peevish unwillingness to become Robin Hood.
The most absurd moment comes when it is revealed that Robin’s dad wrote the text for the Magna Carta. Next week, Jesse James’s mum invents penicillin.
