The genre that lends itself to the best revisionist cinema is the Western. From John Ford to Sergio Leone to Clint Eastwood, the myths of the Old West are fertile ground for artful and sometimes poetic deconstruction. The younger filmmakers of today seem to be on a pointless mission to subvert just about every film, character, and genre that came before. A classic literary character such as Robin Hood doesn’t quite lend itself to such a style. To reshape the legend of a character that never existed in the real world is a useless endeavor. Michael Sarnoski’s The Death of Robin Hood is an unfortunate example.

The social mores of today don’t vibe with the mindset of yesteryear. Cinema is in a new and dangerously homogenized age. America has become more puritanical towards The Arts and today’s films continue to suffer. There is an unnecessary need to shove a modern moral stance where it doesn’t belong. Not every picture needs to “teach” its audience, there aren’t always lessons to be learned, and there is no need to measure a film’s quality by a checklist of what the public thinks should be included.

Armed with an absurd desire to paint a fictional romantic hero a monstrous murderer, The Death of Robin Hood strives for a deeper understanding of myths, but falls short on multiple levels. Sarnoski’s screenplay fails to follow through on the lofty heights of his pseudo-intellectual explorations. The director fills his lead character with an unshakable malaise that leaves him with questions regarding his reputation, his violent nature, and the morbid legacy he will leave behind. The film lets its own subject down by giving no real insight into the character and failing to achieve the promised deep psychological dig.

Looking like a depressed Rob Zombie, a bland Hugh Jackman mopes around the film as the most morose Robin Hood to ever hit the silver screen. The film introduces Robin Hood as he sits amongst a cold, bleak, Ireland mountainside. Pat Scola’s cinematography paints every frame of the film in a grey, windswept, bleakness that seems better suited to a Bella Tarr film.

After showing a wandering urchin what little kindness he can muster, Robin Hood is forced to kill his unwanted visitor when she tries to rob him. After delivering a monologue about how the stories of the “hero” Robin Hood are false, he cuts her throat and jams the blade into the side of her head. The scene is the beginning of a needless reliance on gore. Sarnoski fills the first quarter of his film with splattering blood and savage head bashings. The intent is to show the “real” brutality behind Robin’s motivations. 

There is nothing wrong with effective gore and good battle scenes, but the director’s script is too schizophrenic. The film opens as a primal, John Milius-styled, battle film, moving to a heretical character study and on to a supposed dissection of fables and folklore. 

The influence of Robert Egger’s The Northman is heavy during the silhouetted warriors fighting viking-style against the backdrop of burning flames. Where Eggers had an understanding of his picture’s world of blood and steel, Michael Sarnoski never finds a tonal symmetry with the film’s 1247 A.D. setting. Robin Hood wanders through the lands waiting to die, as the film has no real desire to use that time in history beyond sweeping wide-shots of the landscapes. 

While the picture changes just about everything about Robin Hood and his tale, Little John (Bill Skarsgård) is included as Robin’s former evil-doing partner. The character has also been through a reconstruction. The screenplay paints him as a depressed combatant wanting nothing more than to return to the days of bloodletting. The screenplay doesn’t know what to do with Little John and Skarsgård’s unique talents go to waste.  

As Robin Hood nearly dies after meeting a worthy foe, he finds himself at the abbey of Sister Brigid (the always welcome Jodie Comer). The kind soul leads Robin Hood to embrace a more peaceful existence. The arrival of Little John’s young daughter (Faith Delaney) will cause Robin to return to his former ways, as the repercussions of an attack on a family have come to the shores of the abbey. 

Once Robin’s life nears its final days, the film turns inward to reveal an intimate final act that takes on Bergmanesque themes of suffering, isolation, and moral crisis. Robin Hood struggles with finality and reconciliation towards his murderous ways while the screenplay loses its already loose grip on the deeper themes within.

Michael Sarnoski is a good filmmaker. 2021’s Pig was a unique character study that gave Nicolas Cage one of his strongest roles in years, while his commendable work on 2024’s A Quiet Place: Day One made it watchable. This time, Sarnoski takes on too much; applying a weighty introspection to a character and story that doesn’t need darker reconfiguration.

Robin Hood as a more humanist symbol of polluted legends is a superfluous exercise. The Death of Robin Hood is a film buried by its own redundancy.

The Death of Robin Hood
Written and Directed by Michael Sarnoski
Starring Hugh Jackman, Jodie Comer, Bill Skarsgård, Noah Jupe, Murray Bartlett

R, 123 Minutes, A24

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ii1gTLxWukk