Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood in 1938 practically defined the character in Western culture. Before him, there was Douglas Fairbanks in 1922, but The Adventures of Robin Hood, with Flynn in the central role, established the adventure hero that would endure in the popular imagination. The noble outlaw would later be portrayed by Sean Connery, Kevin Costner, Cary Elwes, Russell Crowe, Taron Egerton, among many others, always bringing the character closer to the idea of a kind-hearted rogue. Now Michael Sarnoski destroys that myth in The Death of Robin Hood. He questions the legend of the hero and imagines a ruthless thief and a brutal killer.

Sarnoski’s own screenplay presents us with a twilight version of Robin Hood, a man unable to bear the weight of his past. We find him retired in a remote place, physically and mentally consumed. When he sets out on what he believes will be his final battle, a chance event leads him into a new chapter that becomes a kind of epilogue. Hugh Jackman fully embraces the character and delivers a formidable performance that reminds us of his Logan, both in form and substance.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its cinematography. Pat Scola (Pig, Sing Sing) excels with the close-ups during the more intimate sequences and achieves remarkable compositions in the action scenes. The camera tells us what words leave unsaid about this Robin Hood. Visually, The Death of Robin Hood is visceral, dark, and devastating, yet at the same time it feels like a tragic poem that reveals a strange beauty.

Michael Sarnoski strips the legend of Robin Hood of all romanticism and reveals an ordinary man, a character defined by violence and death, unable to escape the weight of the blood he has spilled. He shows us a side of the legendary outlaw that is closer to the original medieval ballads, where Robin Hood was a more ambiguous, violent figure, and a man willing to kill, unlike the hero who steals from the rich to give to the poor.

The Death of Robin Hood is a well-crafted film driven by Hugh Jackman’s excellent performance, looking at the legend without the shine of heroism. Melancholic, bitter, intimate. What I truly appreciate about Sarnoski’s film is the way it finds a path toward a more human story, one built as a character study rather than a heroic adventure.