Every Man for Himself
ROBIN HOOD
Directed by Ridley Scott
Runtime: 140 min.
AT A REPORTED cost of over $200 million, according to the London Telegraph, Ridley Scotts Robin Hood refutes the old altruistic axiom rob from the rich and give to the poor. All the charm and meaning has been taken out of this reboot. Its now a history, opening with a detailed inscription to establish the 12th-century tales seriousness: In times of tyranny and injustice, where law oppresses the people, the rebel takes his place in history. In other words, Gladiator II.
Russell Crowe once again plays Scotts everyman hero who rises above his taciturn machismo to avenge dreadful memoriesclever shtick for the wealthy duo that like to pretend theyre doing something besides just raking it in.
Their nouveau-riche narcissism imagines having a populist purpose, yet the clichés of Robin Longstrides archery skills, put to use in the English armys campaign against the French while, back home, Marian Locksley (ludicrous Cate Blanchett) tills her impoverished, overtaxed fields, dont speak for the people, except in distant, almost invisible metaphor. And the motto these oppressed Brits live by (Arise and arise until lambs become lions) isnt about Tea Party insurrection; it merely replaces poetic generosity with vengeance.
Scott and Crowe return to Gladiators violent formula because the high-life confessions of their A Good Year collaboration didnt click. But they also seem to be chasing after Antoine Fuqua (the director Scott replaced on American Gangster) in the way Robin Hood repeats the insipid realism of Fuquas 2004 King Arthur, the grungy, anti-poetic reboot of Arthurian tales. Both films represent a dullards version of history; Hollywoods commercial calculation has become so obvious that it removes beauty from storytelling. Screenwriter Brian Helgelands period setting over-simplifies the context for violencereusing his Braveheart formula but without director-star Mel Gibsons conviction.
Look at Scotts superficial beauty: a couple of dusk landscapes (amazingly subtle lighting by John Mathieson) and a splendid view of French ships roiling on blue, misty waves. But these are not cinematic images; theyre mini TV commercials that lack existential vision. Ultra-hack Scott reverts to the slickness of his advertising background. TV imagery has pervaded cinema to the point that Scott doesnt balance his over-cropped TV-style close-ups with the postcard vistas. Like Gladiators jarring F/X, it shows Scotts disrespect for cinema.
Fake beauty and fake history rob Robin Hood of previous moral value. Its no longer legendary because Scott and Helgelands sham realism trivializes history. They pretend how history happened (Monty Python-style) but their embarrassing, anachronistic rip-off of Saving Private Ryans beachfront battle scene shows no feeling for how history is constructed and passed down through ritual, repetition and affection. An abstract end-credits sequence is more imaginative (its in the style of Scotts Scott Free company logo). In place of inspiration, Robin Hood has the bloat of a 1960s roadshow presentation: Costly, overlong but with no intermissionor reprieve.