The Movie
Forget what you know about Robin Hood: the levity, the gaiety, the merriment, the swashbuckling. Forget Old Hollywood and early-‘90s cheese. Forget Errol Flynn, and -- if you can -- Daffy Duck. The Robin Hood legend is bursting at the seams with potential for a newer grittier retelling, a postmodern, post-9/11 reinterpretation that reflects as much upon our own modern struggles with politics and war as it does the distant history in which the legend is set.
Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Ridley Scott's new Robin Hood is that it's almost that film. In so many ways it comes so close to not only putting that most beloved of bandits into a more proper historical context, but also to giving us a hero that isn't bogged down by all the interpretations that have come before. As much as I love The Adventures of Robin Hood, Hollywood has been there and done that. It's time for a new twist. And I worry that in very nearly succeeding, but ultimately flubbing the shot, Scott's new take has robbed us of the opportunity to see a successful modern take on the legend done right.
Were it a miserable failure, it would be one thing. But Scott's film has so much going for it: many of the scenes are, quite frankly, breathtaking in isolation. The chemistry between Russell Crowe as Robin Longstride and Cate Blanchett as Old Maid Marion is spot on. The sets? Delicious. The battles? A few laughable historical inaccuracies aside, amazing. The acting? Mostly superb.
All of this could be forgiven if the film worked, structurally speaking. But it doesn't. It's a hot mess cobbled together from elements that work beautifully on their own, but together seem like one non-sequitur after another. The plot's clutter isn't justified by the ultimate simplicity of the story. And as an origin tale, Robin Hood simply isn't satisfying in the way that Chris Nolan's Batman Begins was. In that film, we become invested in Bruce Wayne's transformation into the Caped Crusader. Here, Russell simply isn't Robin Hood, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't he isn't he isn't... and then he is. Tada! It's as if the screenwriters started at the end and worked backwards, started at the beginning and worked forwards, spending as much time on the last ten minutes as on the first two hours or so, with no concern with whether or not the pieces really fit together when they met. And they don't.
The Picture
Of course, if you loved Robin Hood at the multiplex, you should completely disregard everything I said above. The Blu-ray's 1080p AVC transfer brings the cinematic experience home deftly.
Owing to the film's dim, earthy aesthetic, it might not be the first Blu-ray you pull out to show off your display's color capabilities, and digging through my notes, I don't see any adjectives like "pop" or "sparkle" scribbled in my shaky scrawl. But neither should there be. Robin Hood is a predominately shadowy film, with a contrast range that runs the gamut from dark to darker, so black levels don't always come across as inky by comparison, even though they're rock solid. But the transfer never fails to succeed in capturing an astounding level of shadow detail.
The image could have easily come across as murky, but it never does. Detail is exceptional throughout, and, almost without exception, the transfer is deliciously film-like. Digital ookiness, excessive noise reduction, and edge halos never even crossed my mind while watching the film. Only a weensy bit of jumpiness in a few very detailed patterns -- like Marion's chainmail toward the end of the film, and a few architectural textures here and there -- give any hint of the translation from theater to home theater. Other than that, it's a marvelous transfer.
The Sound
The 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio track, on the other hand, is adjective-y as hell. In fact, my notes for the soundtrack look like an exercise in onomatopoeia. Arrows whiz so whizzily, swords clash so clashily, and atmospheric audio effects are woven together so wonderfully atmospherically that despite the nagging anachronism, the world of late-12th-century France and England truly comes to life through the sound design. The beauty of the soundtrack is that it knows when to whap you in the back of the head, and when to take a breather, though even it its quieter moments it's still packed with delicate ambience. And dialogue is, with the exception of a few bits of rough ADR, crystal clear.
The Extras
Chief among the goodies included with this edition is the 156-minute "Unrated" Director's Cut. And I put "Unrated" in mocking quotation marks, because there's nothing remotely un-PG-13 about any of the additional 15 minutes of footage. The supplemental and alternate material is welcomed, though, mostly because it does tie up a few of the film's niggling loose ends, although if you hated the theatrical cut I don't see this one winning you over. It still feels like a rushed 2.5-hour edited version of a superior five-hour miniseries.
But if you loved the theatrical cut, you're in for a treat.
There are also a bit over twelve minutes' worth of deleted scenes, with optional commentary and an introduction by editor Pietro Scalia, several of which are really worth watching. In fact, some of the best moments ended up being cut.
The film is also supported by Rise and Rise Again: Making Ridley Scott's Robin Hood, an hour-long documentary in three parts that, much like the film itself, is frustrating in its inconsistency. On the one hand, it boasts moments of shocking honesty and genuine insight, but all too often ventures into "We had so much fun making this movie!" territory.
I'm of the opinion that the Director's Notebook Version of the film (available with the Theatrical Cut only, unfortunately) is a better way to experience the footage gathered for Rise and Rise Again. And I'll be the first to admit that I usually hate these sorts of pop-up, multimedia supplemental experiences. But here, it undeniably works. At regular intervals the image breaks into a three-way split screen, with the film moved to the upper left, storyboard sequences beneath, and interview clips to the right. In this context, and without the fluff, we get a much better sense of what went into making the film, the thought processes behind the shape of the narrative, the artistry that went into the set design, props, and costumes. Somehow, it all sort of made me appreciate the film more, even if I'm still not a fan.
The images found throughout the Director's Notebook are also available directly in The Art of Nottingham, which is broken down into "Pre-Vis/Storyboards," "Production Design," "Costumes," and "Behind-the-Scenes Photos," the middle two of which feature fairly lengthy video introductions from Production Designer Arthur Max and Costume Designer Janty Yates, respectively.
Wrapping up the supplements are a Marketing Archive, complete with two two trailers and six TV spots for Robin Hood; a My Scenes index, and D-Box Motion Codes.
Final Thoughts
Perhaps it seems as if I've been overly hard on Robin Hood. Truth be told, it's not an awful film. The maddening thing is that it's constructed from so many wonderful elements and comes so tantalizingly close to being a thoroughly enjoyable work, but it's as if someone took pan-seared sea scallops prepared with a delicate Provençal tomato broth and dipped them in Miracle Whip.
Fans able to overlook its shortcomings and enjoy it for the action-adventure romp that it is, though, will be treated to a very well-done Blu-ray presentation.
Product Details
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