Robin Hood, o Justiceiro

I had watched this just once growing up, as opposed to the numerous viewings allotted to the definitive 1938 Errol Flynn version, so I was curious to know how it has held up (particularly since I recently enjoyed another Walt Disney epic starring the recently-deceased Richard Todd i.e. ROB ROY, THE HIGHLAND ROGUE [1953]). As can be intimated from the rating above, my reaction to it was by and large a positive one; to begin with, the copy I acquired – even if viewed on a small TV screen – was gorgeous, making this surely among the studio's most handsome-looking live-action efforts. Another immediately striking element is the casting – modest in comparison to the earlier Warner Bros. super-production perhaps but no less capable and, more importantly, fitting to each respective character: Todd, one of the few Robins not to sport a beard(!), is suitably dashing and good-natured (though lacking the athleticism of Flynn and Douglas Fairbanks before him); incidentally, having mentioned Fairbanks – whose 1922 ROBIN HOOD was treated with such rigor as to have the semblance of authenticity – this one too would appear to want to present the 'true' story (not merely picking up from the moment King Richard – played by an unrecognizable Patrick Barr – left for the Crusades but also insisting on providing a back-story and a noble heritage for our hero – even the famous archery contest occurs prior to his having turned outlaw and, what's more, Robin is beaten by his own dad in it?!). Anyway, to get back to Todd's fellow actors, pretty Joan Rice makes for one of the youngest yet most spirited Maid Marians; among the "Merrie Men", typically, the ones to get most prominence are Little John (James Robertson Justice – who else? – but with hair dyed blond!), Friar Tuck (James Hayter and, for some odd reason, fancying himself a singer in the film's corniest scene!) – both of their introductions at least stick to the legend – and Allen-a-Dale (Elton Hayes, whose brief cinematic career seemed to be stuck playing minstrels in historical efforts!); for what it is worth, the presence of the last two mentioned constitute the film's severest drawbacks to this viewer. On the side of the wrongdoers, we get Hubert Gregg as a particularly sly (though rather youthful) Prince John and, surprisingly, Peter Finch as the Sheriff of Nottingham (effective apart from an unbecoming coiffure – incidentally, I may be watching his one other film in this vein i.e. THE DARK AVANGER aka THE WARRIORS [1955], with Errol Flynn no less, this coming week-end); by the way, another novelty to the lore which turns up here but hardly anywhere else is that of having a benign but obviously ineffective Queen Mother (a suitably regal Martita Hunt). While there is not quite the emphasis on spectacle or elaborate action set-pieces we find in other versions (though the drawbridge climax is undeniably thrilling), the film – which, at a mere 84 minutes, does not run the risk of overstaying its welcome – is very entertaining for the most part and, as I said, looks good enough to smooth over the occasional deficiency.

...for many serious reasons. first, for its ingenuity after so many adaptations of the legend of Robin Hood. no the less, for the impressive cast. and for a smart simplicity, remembering the flavour and the spirit of an age of Hollywood. so, a pure lovely film, in which, recognozing the ingredients of the classic story, you discover the youth freshness of a vision about values, virtues and heroes.

Now, this is actually worth going to some trouble to see. Probably not to everyone's taste -- the opening sequence, with a nimble-footed and saturnine Alan-a-Dale strumming the theme-song ballad, will sort out the sheep from the goats of those who simply can't stand this sort of thing -- but despite the live-action Disney label, it stands up well amongst all its predecessors and successors.

It steers a skillful and essential line between tendentious over-seriousness and pie-in-the-face humour, and contrives a fresh view on the familiar set-pieces -- the shivered arrow on the bull's-eye, Friar Tuck and the river crossing, the recruitment of Little John -- with, unusually, a sizable part for the formidable Eleanor of Aquitaine as the mother of the King and Prince John. In the title role, Richard Todd makes a charming curly-headed rogue, whose merry eyes betray his identity beneath the most enveloping of disguises, and he brings the necessary charisma and impudence to the character: this is the recognisable Robin Hood of legend, whom men follow for freedom and for the fun of it. A little easy-going, perhaps, with little of the passion against injustice that flashes beneath the laughter of Errol Flynn, but this is Disney after all.

Joan Rice is a spitfire wilful Marian, whose involvement is plausibly scripted without any anachronism; she also provides a couple of the best moments in the film, whether belabouring Robin on her fellow-travellers' behalf or silencing him with an athletic embrace at the end. James Hayter as Friar Tuck and Peter Finch as the black-avised Sheriff of Nottingham also give memorable performances -- and could that really have been avuncular Hubert Gregg, of all people, convincing us as Prince John?

My main source of irritation about this film lay in some of the archery embellishments. Every arrow-shot we see zips past with the whine of a ricocheted bullet, presumably in order to make the fights sound more exciting in the absence of gunfire, and the system of signalling by firing colour-coded arrows in relays at one another seemed not only out of place but highly risky (credibility not helped by what I surely didn't imagine as people turning round to look as they hear the arrow coming!) The distinctly unpleasant fate of the forsworn Sheriff, on the other hand, was glossed over in suspicious silence, without so much as a cry.

But caveats aside, the film scores well on sheer energy, with a healthy dash of humour. The 1967 "A Challenge for Robin Hood" (despite featuring Hayter as Friar Tuck again!) is an over-bright and sanitised Ladybird rendition; the 1990 "Robin Hood" (the non-Costner version) went the other way and overdid the historical grime. The latter is the better film, but neither of them has the enjoyability and spirit of the 1952 offering. This isn't on the same scale as the Curtiz/Keighley classic of 1938, and Todd remains an engaging boy rather than a rollicking leader of men, but it perhaps comes closest to matching the verve of its illustrious predecessor.

Personally I do not think it is as good as The Adventures of Robin Hood with Errol Flynn which is the epitome of what an adventure film should be. However, it is solid and truly excellent family entertainment, if a tad too short. The locations are authentic and the Technicolour photography is very fine. The score is suitably rousing, and the script has its fair moments of wit and light-hearted humour while the story never meanders or feels dull. Ken Annakin directs briskly and there is some lively sword-fighting as well. The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men also benefits from a fine cast. Richard Todd is enjoyable as Robin Hood, and there is a tuneful Allan-a-Dale. And Joan Rice is an alluring Maid Marion. However, the best of the lot are a stately Martita Hunt, a robust James Robertson-Justice, a wicked Peter Finch and a delightful Hubert Gregg. On the whole, not quite classic status but great fun and recommended. 8/10 Bethany Cox

This was an outstanding film, with superb acting, a wonderful musical score, and colourful scenes that unfold from the Disney picture book of life in the middle ages. I remember seeing it around 1956 as a 10 yer old, and was fascinated by the lives of the outlaws, sheltering in the glades of Sherwood Forest from the wicked Prince John and his cunning assistant the Sheriff of Nottingham.

The script was tight and delivered in impeccable olde English by actors who often went on to become household names in the acting profession later on in life. The beautiful scenes of woodland glades, the sun shimmering brightly as it cascaded through the trees into the outlaws' camp, brought to life the story of their fight for freedom and justice, and added a strangely surreal visual effect.

There are a number of memorable scenes, friar tuck singing with himself as he munched his capon pie among the most notable. The most captivating for me, however, was the sight of Tuck walking behind Robin and Marian out of an eerie Sherwood Forest, with the lilt of Alan A Dale's voice as he sang a pleasant, melodic little tune .

Yes, a very pleasant, uncomplicated film.