In days of yore, the myth of Robin Hood was embodied by brave and noble men: Douglas Fairbanks outwitting the king’s thugs by sliding down the length of a slippery medieval brocade curtain; Errol Flynn striding jauntily into a great hall with a dead stag draped around his shoulders like a royal’s stole. But, as Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood suggests, those are heroes from a lost age. Today’s Robin Hood is far more complex, a tortured soul suffering from repressed-memory syndrome, a freedom fighter whose perpetual scowl speaks of a highly attuned sense of justice. Today’s Robin Hood is the spirit of freedom disguised as a grumpy gus in a leather jerkin, and he carries something far heavier than legend — or even Errol Flynn’s stag carcass — on his shoulders: a backstory.
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REVIEW: Ugly, Interminable Robin Hood Steals From Audiences
