ROBIN HOOD review: welcome back, Mr Scott

ROBIN HOOD review: welcome back, Mr Scott

May 13

Where should I begin? I walked into Robin Hood with low expecations. I haven’t enjoyed a single Ridley Scott film made in the last decade: Gladiator was empty and hollow if you removed the action scenes, Kingdom Of Heaven was a confused cop-out of a war flick, and … okay, so I didn’t see A Good Year or American Gangster, but can you blame me? On top of that, I was starting to worry about burned out doing all these reviews of mediocre-to-competent films lately, concerned that I’d lose my way and start giving Brett Ratner flicks high marks while violently abusing Scorsese flicks (okay, that actually happened, but moving on …).

To nobody’s greater surprise than my own, I loved Robin Hood. I loved every minute of it. From the opening frames, the film grabbed my by the heart and mind and dragged me happily through one of the best cinematic experiences I can remember. I’m starting to understand what all those Avatards were banging on about when they cried about Pandora not being real, and wept in anguish as the catharsis of the film faded away — Robin Hood transported me to Europe circa 1199, and I didn’t want to leave. That’s right, I didn’t want the movie to end. I haven’t felt that in a long, long time.

What’s so good about it? you ask with raised eyebrows. Well, that’s the thing about great movies; it’s hard to put into words exactly why they work, exactly why they hit you on an emotional and cerebral level. It probably has something to do with Brian Helgeland’s labyrinthine but compelling script; it probably has a lot to do with the fine performances all around; it’s definitely got something to do with the rich production design and astounding visual effects; and it definitely has a lot to do with the film’s gorgeous presentation. What it doesn’t have anything to with, however, is Russell Crowe.

Patriotism be damned — if Russell Crowe turns in a sub-par performance, I’m going to complain. To be fair, his performance here isn’t so much ‘sub-par’ as it is a little off the mark. It’s clear that at some point in the editing process the tone of the film was changed (for the better), and Rusty’s performance, dedicated to film on set, couldn’t be changed to fit it. So Crowe comes off as dull — yet competent — in a vibrant, thrilling and joyous universe.

And how vibrant it is! The sound of a hundred wooden shafts thunking into the surround sound speakers was enough for me to grit my teeth in instinctive fear. The lilting medieval score gave a kind of mischievous bent to the action, building the England of 1199 as a fundamentally better place than anything we’ve known, somehow; while the gorgeous photography makes the heart yearn for simpler times, when the countryside was green and the sky was silver, when the work was hard but the heart was full.

3D would have absolutely ruined this movie. There, I said it. It’s a home truth, too. What little visceral punch may have been gained by having arrowheads fly at the audience’s face in gasp-inducing 3D would pale in comparison to the beauty bestowed upon the film by the 35mm cinematography. Some of the deep-focus shots of the English forests, with golden beams of sunlight and perfectly-framed boughs of green, are downright painterly in their beauty. So good are they, in fact, that they reminded me of Kubrick’s brilliant Barry Lyndon; and when a modern filmmaker can be compared favourably to Stanley Kubrick, you know to pay attention.

The plot plays fast and loose with history, but given how dubious the record-keeping of the twelfth century was, who really cares? You might as well complain that it clashes with the plot of Robin Hood: Men In Tights or that delightful Disney adaptation — what matters is how the film resonates right here, with modern audiences. And Robin Hood carries with it a message, to which I alluded above, not unlike that of Avatar: without that thing we refer to as “nature,” Homo sapiens is as nothing; and without that thing we refer to as “freedom,” a concept for which there shouldn’t need to be a word, humanity itself is worth nothing. These compelling ideals infuse the plot with urgency and sincerity.

There’s a real sense of time and place, even despite the anachronistic themes of environmentalism and freedom; costumes, sets and locations all speak of a time when death often came at the pointy end of a sword (or the blunt end of a hammer); a time before Shakespeare invented half of modern English; and a time before fashion took ordinary people and twisted them into unnatural creatures in high-heels and make-up and botox. As I say, this seems to be a fundamentally better time, despite the slavery and oppression, and the fact that Robin Hood is doing his best to return the world to peaceful equilibrium with nature is compelling on a fundamental level.

The performances are exemplary across the board, and the board is broad indeed. Rusty turns in a heartfelt if misplaced performance as the eponymous archer, while the likes of Cate Blanchett, Mark Strong, Danny Huston, Max von Sydow and William Hurt all turn in equally exceptional work: each one of them is clearly in the head and heart of their respective character, and the authenticity and sincerity they bring to their roles really helps enrich the film’s overall atmosphere. Cate Blanchett’s performance could have been a little more internal, but her determined character works well opposite Crowe’s Robin regardless. This is all proof not only of the actors’ skills, but of the director’s, and age hasn’t dulled Scott’s sensibilities in the slightest.

Rounding out the cast are a handful of lesser-known but no less talented folk, populating England and France with memorable and honest characters. Oscar Isaac’s King John is an almost sympathetic character, anachronistically modern in his “me-me-me” attitude, but relatable nonetheless, while Matthew McFadyen puts in an amusingly down-trodden turn as the Sheriff of Nottingham, Robin’s future nemesis. Robin’s merry men, who are sadly neglected in the film’s third act, bring a real sense of wit and fun to the proceedings, which took me completely unawares.

And that’s what really propels Robin Hood over the line, from competent historical epic to potential classic of the genre: a sense of fun. Those who endured Ridley Scott’s Gladiator, Black Hawk Down and Kingdom Of Heaven know that jokes are few and far between in his films. But in Robin Hood there is a constant and palpable sense of adventure, a sense that has been lacking from cinema for far too long. Last year’s Star Trek had a stab at it, but it hasn’t really been nailed since the Lord of the Rings films, and Ridley Scott was the last person I expected to bring adventure back to the big screen.

The action scenes, too, don’t disappoint (like they did in Kingdom of Heaven): seamless (and I mean, seamless) visual effects lend credibility to thousands-strong battle scenes that are gritty, grimy and glorious. Ridley Scott hasn’t lost his eye for visual perfectionism, and some beautiful third-act battle photography tugs heartstrings as much as it stirs heroism. My only complaint in these scenes is that they are bloodless. Several characters take severe neck wounds, which, for the sake of a PG-13 rating, don’t bleed. Not even a little bit! Remember that cringe-inducing femoral artery surgery scene from Black Hawk Down? Blood made that scene. Here, while it far from breaks the scenes, the bloodlessness does dent one’s suspension of disbelief.

The fun, the performances, and the battle scenes would be fine on their own, but to top it all off, there’s a complex and rewarding narrative composed of multiple threads that all tie together towards the end. Though some early scenes seem a little useless until backed up by later scenes, Scott uses this technique to build the viewer’s attention: attaching names to faces, castles to shires, and people to movements puts you in the world, and it all pays off handsomely in the end.

I could dribble on for considerably longer about Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood, perhaps comparing it with Mel Gibson’s equally good epic Braveheart, but suffice it to say, this is the most cathartic, most immersive, and indeed best movie I’ve seen in a cinema in a long, long time. Easily the best film yet of 2010, and better than anything I can remember from 2008 or 2009, to boot: Ridley Scott has kicked off the new decade with trademark style and bravado. Let’s hope it’s a trend he can maintain.

Robin Hood score

96/100