There are no merry men to be found in “The Death of Robin Hood,” an elegiac portrait of the famed folk hero that eventually delivers on its title, but not before an extended bout of myth-busting and moral reckoning. Following a dip into studio franchise waters with “A Quiet Place: Day One” two years ago, the third feature from writer-director Michael Sarnoski sees him returning to the intimate scope and melancholic timbre of his debut “Pig” — this despite story material far more accustomed to blockbuster treatment on screen. Starring a Gandalf-coiffed Hugh Jackman as a battle-worn Robin Hood weary of his heroic reputation, Sarnoski’s revisionist interpretation dares to suggest that his life of crime wasn’t in fact charitably motivated; his quest here is an interior one, to salvage his soul from the lie he’s been living.
The result is pensive, sensitive and bracingly low on derring-do, though it’s also a little one-note. Sarnoski deromanticizes the legend with keen attention to historic and atmospheric detail, and a studious interest in how stories are told and retold through time. But the sad smallness (or small sadness) of the story it settles on instead is both the point of the exercise and a slow, steady downer from the get-go. Beautifully shot and designed in a full rainbow of earth and stone and sackcloth, and performed with grace and conviction by Jackman and a well-chosen ensemble — including Jodie Comer as a stoic abbess nursing our man, if not to health, at least to peace — this is a production of unimpeachable integrity and intelligence, and a commendably mature bit of summer counter-programming from distributor A24. But it almost wears its dourness as a badge of honor.
