by Jake Bourgeois, Contributing Writer
Though I don’t quite have the affinity for this property as I do Sherlock Holmes, I do love me a take on Robin Hood.
Before the Hunger Games were even a thing, this property in vulpine form was responsible for my feelings that archery made a hero the coolest thing ever. Even since my animated introduction, I’ve had a love for the character—I’ll even defend Russell Crowe’s origin story version, which is perhaps why I was so intrigued by A24’s take on the opposite end of the spectrum.
The Death of Robin Hood sees Hugh Jackman take on an Old Man Robin version of the character, one that’s old, scarred and done with your idea that he’s anything close to a hero. It worked for me. This is not the Robin of myth and legend; he’s an outlaw in every sense of the word. Though it’s a new take, it works because of the Jackman’s performance. He conveys the torment, the pain of a man haunted by what he’s done, but when he needs to pull out the fearsome outlaw, he dials that up. Oftentimes, mostly utilizing his facial acting. And, as the narrative explores whether this version of Robin can be redeemed (or if he even deserves such redemption), he nails that, too. It’s a layered performance, but one of his best.
Aside from a great collection of recognizable faces, there are a few other performances that make this movie sing.
Jodie Comer, in the role of a nun running a remote abbey where our “hero” finds himself, likewise is more than meets the eye. As the person who most often needs to go toe-to-toe with Jackman, she’s more than game and I think is putting in my favorite performance. Like Jackman, the real highlights are when her face is allowed to speak volumes, but her stern warmth is a key component to lightening up the narrative, though when it’s called for, she too can be devastating.
As a young performer, I was blown away by what Faith Delaney was able to put on screen as Little Margaret. Again, the style of the film is a lot about facial acting, and she pulls off the close ups as well as her much more seasoned counterparts. However, the bond she’s able to form with this version of Robin is the emotional lynchpin of the film. So, if that performance doesn’t work, the catharsis fails. It’s a hefty responsibility to bear, and one she handles capably.
Murray Bartlett was another performance that I enjoyed do to its surprising amount of depth. In a performance where he’s doing a lot of work with his eyes and voice (given his costuming). Oh, and Noah Jupe is always great.
From writer/director Michael Sarnoski (Pig, A Quiet Place: Day One), I was curious to see what direction this would go. On one hand, he’s shown he can do the introspective, dour exploration of a man trying to escape his past, and on the other, the ability to play in a franchise sandbox. This seemed to be a perfect blend of the two.
At least for me, that’s exactly what happened.
Jackman may be playing the lead, buy Sarnoski’s the star here. Though the narrative is deliberately paced, it’s a pace that worked for me as the story he’s trying to tell. Maybe it’s the medieval storytelling, but it’s giving big The Green Knight energy (for better or worse, depending on your association). When you pair that with the fact that he knows exactly what to do with the camera, it’s a bullseye. He masterfully blends both wide and tight shots, whether he’s setting a scene or capturing a performance. He knows exactly when to take advantage of the gorgeous setting and when to focus on our actors giving excellent performances. Even when it comes to lighting, everything is spot-on.
If there’s one qualm I had with the movie it’s whether it needed to use the name of Robin Hood at all. The question was one I was wrestling with as the film progressed. Sure, the baggage that comes with the character isn’t necessary if you look at it from the storytelling perspective of a man wrestling with a legacy of violence, but as the film continues to explore the idea of storytelling and mythmaking itself and what that all means, I started to see the value more as the idea was fleshed out. Critically, when the final story is spun, it had me hook, line, and sinker. That, on balance, is what matters.
I have an inkling that I’m probably going to come out higher on The Death of Robin Hood than most. Is that because it’s the type of story with which I’m more apt to connect? I’ve been going through a bit of a cinematic indifference period where I haven’t seen something that I can really sink my teeth into for a minute—so is it possible that the first thing to come along that I connect with makes me an easy mark? Maybe a bit of both? Time will tell.
For now, I’m (perhaps ironically) willing to be sucked in by the tale I’m being fed.
Rating: Loved It
The Death of Robin Hood is currently available to watch in theaters.
You can read more from Jake Bourgeois, and follow him on Bluesky and Letterboxd