It’s impressive, in a way, that Scott manages to remain so consistent. You can’t find too many other directors with a career as long as his who don’t have at least one total bomb to their credit. But it’s also a little infuriating when you consider how many opportunities Scott has squandered. He’s among the tiny handful of directors who can get almost any actor and any budget he asks for. He has almost complete creative freedom. And yet his films never fail to disappoint. From Hannibal to Matchstick Men to American Gangster to Body of Lies, Scott’s films are dull and workmanlike, never terrible but also never more than mildly diverting.
In a weird way, the incredible consistency of his mediocrity proves that Scott actually knows what he’s doing with a camera. And in every one of his films there’s a moment or two of genuine cinematic artistry that is both thrilling and confounding. It’s clear from the way Scott films a helicopter attack on a motorcade in Body of Lies, for instance, or the siege of a French castle in this film, that he’s at least a competent craftsmen. Thus, the unswerving ordinariness of his work becomes even more baffling. How can someone capable of realizing those thrilling moments never put together a wholly good film in more than thirty years of trying?
I used to approach every new Ridley Scott film with the hope, slightly diminished each time, that maybe he’d finally pulled it all together and made something worthwhile. But at this point, holding out hope for another Blade Runner or Alien is just folly. It’s time to accept the truth: a Ridley Scott movie will be, each and every time, no matter the budget, the concept or the stars, workmanlike, overlong and ultimately unsatisfying.
Scott’s latest is no exception. Absolutely crammed with plot but sorely lacking in any real character development, this 140-minute tale of Robin Longstride (Russell Crowe) is a prequel of sorts to the more traditional Robin Hood tales, ending where most of the better known versions of the legend begin. There’s no stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, no living in Sherwood Forest with a band of merry men, no splitting an arrow with another arrow while competing in an archery tournament. It’s implied, I suppose, that some of that stuff follows what transpires in this film but clearly Scott and screenwriter Brian Helgeland felt it would be more interesting to show how Robin Longstride became Robin Hood.
That’s a decent idea, I guess, but when in the pursuit of that aim Robin becomes a sort of warrior-poet preaching to the assembled masses about man’s inalienable rights to justice, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the whole thing becomes rather ridiculous. Indeed, it’s rather heavy-handedly implied that the actions of this Robin Hood led directly to the signing of the Magna Carta.
Concerned more with daddy issues and palace intrigue than feats of derring-do, Robin Hood tells the rather convoluted tale of King John’s ascension to the English throne after the death of his brother Richard the Lion Heart in 1199 and the subsequent French plot to seize control of the island. Godrey (Mark Strong), a British turncoat in service to the French, sows the seeds of discord in the English north in hopes of creating a civil war that can be exploited by the French army. Thus, it falls to Robin (a yeoman who, through a similarly convoluted turn of events, is pretending to be a nobleman) to unite all of England under one banner and lead them to victory against the invading French. This he does in a dramatic speech to the gathered armies that casts him as a sort of proto-John Locke, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, David Hume and Thomas Jefferson all rolled into one.
Instead of being simply an outlaw with a heart of gold, this Robin Hood is a philosopher, warrior and social activist. He’s also exceedingly dull and a bit of a cipher. It’s never really clear what Robin wants to achieve with all this or why he’s even bothering when the concerns of nobles have little to no impact on him. And so, without any clear idea of why we should care about Robin (or anyone else in the film for that matter as their motivations are similarly obtuse), there’s really no reason to care about the outcome. On top of that, since any student of history knows that King John signs the Magna Carta in 1215 (a few years after the events of this film), it’s pretty clear that Robin’s quest for a ‘charter of rights’ will be unsuccessful. So the audience is left watching characters they don’t care about doing things the outcome of which is never in doubt. That’s a recipe for a dull film if ever there was one.
But, like all of Ridley Scott’s movies, there are a few moments here and there that save Robin Hood from being a complete bore. And so, in the end, we’re left with yet another mediocrity to join the long list Scott has compiled over the last three decades. If you’re looking to kill a couple hours, there are certainly worse ways to do it than watching Robin Hood. But if you’re looking for some clue as to why this legend has persisted for so long, why it’s resonated down through history, this film will give you no answers. It could’ve been called Robert Good and been no more or less satisfying.
No comments:
Post a Comment