From A24:
Grappling with his past after a life of crime and murder, Robin Hood finds himself gravely injured after a battle he thought would be his last. In the hands of a mysterious woman, he is offered a chance at salvation.
David Yates’ 2016 film The Legend of Tarzan was nothing more than a flash in the pan for most people. The July release starring Alexander Skarsgård, Margot Robbie, and Samuel L. Jackson was panned critically and lost money for Warner Bros., despite earning $350 million worldwide. By that August, the film exited any and all conversations, except those started by me. I might’ve been the only person that liked that movie enough to buy it on Blu-ray. If I were to re-examine that film, I would likely notice several white-savior-shaped cracks in the story, but 13-year-old Andrew had a ball.
People have strong (negative) opinions about that film as it serves no real societal purpose, but it was well-conceived, in my decade-old opinion. I don’t expect the reaction to this film to be as negative as it is of better execution and thankfully not a white savior narrative, but Michael Sarnoski’s third feature, The Death of Robin Hood, feels similarly unnecessary.
The Death of Robin Hood follows its titular outlaw in mid-13th century Ireland. After a horrific attempt to kill him, his partner (Bill Skarsgård), and his partner’s family, Robin finds himself on an island in the care of a woman known as Sister Brigid (Jodie Comer). With the help of her and other community members, Robin Hood, near the end of his seemingly endless life, tried to find salvation and meaning.
Sarnoski’s previous films have dealt with heavy themes of regret and death. Simultaneously, these films are also some kind of hopeful. Pig, his first feature and one of my favorite films of all time, and even the franchise prequel A Quiet Place: Day One, as morbid as his take on the series is, are about finding raison d'être, with their characters feeling some kind of bliss at the end of the story. In Robin Hood, every part of this story feels tragic. Every scene, even the most violent, is tinged with sorrow.
I like the idea here that death is the one thing that would beget the outlaw salvation – there’s a fantastic sequence early in the film where he’s enraged, almost to tears, at being shown mercy that almost literally shifts the film into something else. Throughout the film and seemingly his life, Robin Hood’s own mortality seems to be dangling in front of him just out of arm’s reach. From a theological standpoint, his life is forced atonement.
In the Bible, the sin committed is meant to receive an in-line punishment: “If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away” (Matthew 5:30 ESV). Sarnoski takes this sentiment and flips it on its head in Robin Hood. For the senseless murder that he committed throughout his life, he has been forced to live with himself, his decisions, his trauma, and regrets. This came to me later in the film, whose somberness was a welcome surprise given the visceral nature of the first act.
The first act of this film contains some of the most violent shit I’ve ever seen in a non-horror film (everything from jaws being ripped off to arrows through the eye). That statement might seem hyperbolic, but I quite literally turned away from the screen during brutal scenes of melee action early in the film. It is historically accurate to the medieval period, whose violence is often characterized by sloppy, rageful hand-to-hand (or hand-to-axe) combat, but my God, is it hard to look at.
There is also one scene of sexuality involving Jodie Comer’s character and with that, I simply want to know why? There is a fucked-up, almost intrinsic expectation of physical sexuality with female leads (because of its selling factor), and it is most unfortunate in cases like this where the presence of any sexuality feels out of place. Its inclusion feels like the film “checking the sex box” instead of it providing any relevance to the story.
I had a similar issue with Is God Is a few weeks ago.
Comer’s character is practically a nun. Thus, I was in no way curious about her sexual desire. It’s not that I seek to void her character of her womanhood. I am not a prude and consider myself a sex-positive person, but this, a story about the pitfalls of brutal masculinity and hubris, simply isn’t the film for that.
The cast, particularly Jodie Comer, Bill Skarsgård, and Noah Jupe (in a Quiet Place quasi-crossover), is strong, but Hugh Jackman in this role is a bit of a random choice. He performs well, but I can tell he just hopped in his 2017 bag and pulled out all the Logan tricks. I’m not too sure what was going on with his accent work here either, or who decided to have one of the most famous Australians ever play a character with an Irish accent, but what would Hollywood be without bad accent work?
There is also a “found family” element to this story that I (always) appreciate, but it, mixed with the brutal violence and gray hairs on Hugh Jackman’s head, kept reminding me of Logan, as well.
The Death of Robin Hood, like The Legend of Tarzan, feels like a forgotten, but good, mid-2010s film. The film looks great - rarely a problem for A24 - is well-acted and has complex themes, but at no point did I understand why this film exists in 2026. It makes no effort to preserve its place in time, but it’s a film you won’t be mad at having seen.
Viewed on 6/3/26 at press screening
Published on 6/11/26