The Dark Side of Robin Hood

Hal Swerissen

Michael Sarnoski’s The Death of Robin Hood is a flawed masterpiece, and a tour de force for Hugh Jackman as an ageing, tormented Robin. Honourable mentions go to Jodie Comer as Sister Brigid, Bill Skarsgård as Little John and Murray Bartlett as the Leper.

The first half of the film is not for the faint-hearted, as Robin and Little John wreak mayhem on those who would intrude on Little John’s family. The violence is confronting, set in a bleak, austere landscape that mirrors the harshness of the central characters. It ends badly for Robin. Close to death, he is carried to an isolated island monastery, where he is cared for by Sister Brigid, and a more reflective second half begins.

Slowly Sister Brigid brings him back from the brink, complete with a graphic portrayal of medieval bloodletting. Little John’s daughter (Faith Delaney) provides an innocent counterweight as Robin reflects on his dark and murderous past.

Pat Scola’s dark, austere cinematography, partnered with Jackman’s raw physical presence and piercing performance, is at the core of this film. There will be comparisons with Jackman’s Logan, but his Robin has more depth and pathos. It is an extraordinary performance.

The film draws on an earlier medieval tradition, before Robin Hood was recast during the Elizabethan revival as an unjustly dispossessed noble, robbing from the rich to give to the poor. Here there is little altruism or heroism. Jackman’s Robin is physically and personally dominating: dark, brooding and violent, a man who robs and murders because it is a dark and violent time. The character is compellingly competent and dispassionate in his brutality, in the mould of the outlaw Clint Eastwood made popular in very different settings.

Comer shines as the troubled, compassionate nun at the centre of the monastery. The monastery is strangely lacking in men, except for the mysterious Leper, who tries to set boundaries for Robin’s life on the island – boundaries that, in an unexpected turn, Robin does not follow. Sister Brigid and Robin share a complex bond, rooted both in the monastery and in Robin’s past, which returns repeatedly as he reflects and recovers.

Robin Hood has been brought to the screen many times, from Douglas Fairbanks through Sean Connery, Kevin Costner and Russell Crowe. This is not the uplifting Hollywood treatment of the folk icon. It is a highly polarising, intriguing piece of cinematic art, with strengths and weaknesses. The first half is confronting, dark and frenetic; the second is slower and introspective. For some, the pacing will feel too disparate. It is also irredeemably dark and bleak. But it does all this with artistic and creative flair, and with a magnificent performance from Jackman.