Kansas Will Want To Murder Me For This

I have an image blog for you today. Enjoy!

The Five Hoods: Robin, Before Sherwood

“Mother, spare me your farmyard memories. You have none and I don’t understand them.” ~ Prince John

“We can’t repay our good luck with bad grace, it invites darkness.” ~ Robin

“Once before I said goodbye to a man going to war. He never came back.” ~ Marian

Director Ridley Scott (Alien, Blade Runner, Gladiator) took on the story of the archer from Sherwood Forest in 2010 in the film Robin Hood, which actually tells an origin story for the legendary outlaw. Starring Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett, the film is a revisionist tale written by Brian Helgeland (L.A. Confidential, 42) and produced by Scott, Brian Grazer, and Crowe. In essence, it looks at the man before he was the outlaw.

We first meet Robin Longstride (Crowe), an archer in the army of King Richard the Lionheart (Danny Huston), coming home from the Crusades and involved in a siege of a French castle. He’s disillusioned by war, wants to go home, and finds his opportunity to leave with fellow soldiers Little John (Kevin Durand), Will Scarlet (Scott Grimes) and Allan A’Dale (Alan Doyle) when the King is killed in battle. The band of men withdraw in the confusion, and come across an ambush of some of the King’s officers  by French soldiers led by the treacherous Sir Godfrey (Mark Strong), an English knight in league with the French King. One of the dying knights asks him to return the crown to England and his own sword to his father. Robin and his comrades decide to impersonate the knights to secure their passage home.

And so home to England the unlikely band goes, where bearing the crown and the assumed identity of Sir Robert Loxley, Robin informs the royal family of the death of Richard. Prince John (Oscar Isaac) is crowned king, and Robin meets the trusted advisor William Marshall (William Hurt) before setting off for Nottingham to carry out the second request. It is there where he and his men meet Sir Robert’s father Walter (Max von Sydow) and his widow Marian (Blanchett), and where an unlikely arrangement is made to allow the impersonation to continue. Along the way they encounter the local sheriff (Matthew Macfadyen, criminally underused in the role).

Helgeland has quite a history as a screenwriter and occasional director, with an attention to detail and a preference for strong characterization. That gets its due here, along with the epic sweep of battle and the intimacy of slow romance. It certainly does play around with history- the notion of the Magna Carta is more of an idea that Robin comes up with in a proposal to the new king to unite his country, as opposed to what it was. He was actually the last screenwriter in a series to take on Scott’s project, after other scripts didn’t meet the director’s standards. His story emphasizes themes like war weariness and the balance between justice and vengeance, as well as the notion of fair treatment. Along the way things get muddied up somewhat.

Most of the film was done on location in the United Kingdom, with set pieces including castles and villages erected on site and details added as the long production process went along. It certainly does look English, with a bleak, windswept look to the whole production. Scott’s direction certainly brings with it an expertise in action and epic subjects; his camerawork is particularly effective in long views during battle sequences along the coast, giving us two opposing armies having at each other. Yet he also knows how to convey action in the midst of it all.  At the same time, Scott knows when to step back and let the actors work. There are times, though, in the story, where you’re left wondering if the bleakness of the surroundings is overtaking the film itself. 

The cast as a whole are well chosen. Danny Huston is one of those terrific character actors who makes a role interesting, and I’ve never seen him give a bad performance. He plays Richard as not quite the noble king we might expect, but somewhat devious and not quite so understanding. Oscar Isaac plays his younger brother John as the vain, insecure, and temperamental figure that he’s so often portrayed as; the real John must be spinning in his grave at how he’s been dragged through the mud in so many Robin Hood stories for centuries. Mark Strong, another great character actor with a particular skill for playing villains, cads, and ne’er do wells in films like Stardust, Sherlock Holmes, John Carter, and The Young Victoria, is delightfully nasty and cruel as Sir Godfrey, the traitorous knight with ambitions all his own. He’s really the villain of the story, a side-winding bastard out for himself, and ready to cast aside anyone in his way.

William Hurt gets a good role as William Marshall, a real life figure at the time. He’s a character who’s fair minded and wise; a good advisor who suddenly finds himself on the outside, disregarded by his new king, and yet still a man who believes in his country and understands who he can trust. Eileen Atkins plays Eleanor, mother to two kings. She’s favoured her elder son Richard, which leaves her in something of an antagonistic relationship with John, and Atkins brings the dignity of an actress with a long working career to the role. Max von Sydow, who seems to have been around forever, gets another good late career role as Sir Walter Loxley, a pragmatic man who’s basically decent and who sees something of worth in Robin. Matthew Macfadyen (Pride & Prejudice, MI5) gets underused as the sheriff of Nottingham, but when we do see him, the character is lecherous and greedy. 

The inner circle of the Merry Men (though they’re not called that) are nicely chosen. Durand has the look of a tough man who’s been around the block a few times, and he has a blunt, hard personality that suits Little John very well indeed. Scott Grimes has a very everyman sort of look to him, but it suits his Will Scarlet well. Alan Doyle is actually the front man of the Newfoundland band Great Big Sea, and brings his natural charm as a singer to the minstrel-soldier Allan A’Dale. These three actors would end up reuniting with Crowe for a guest turn on a Canadian television series of all things, Republic of Doyle (check youtube for Russell Crowe and that show title, and you can find it). The English actor Mark Addy rounds out the group as Friar Tuck, as boisterous as you might expect him.

I like Cate Blanchett’s take on Marian. She plays the character as intelligent and strong willed, capable of managing well on her own. There’s loyalty to her; she has stayed for years with her father-in-law while her husband, who she was only married to briefly before he went off to the Crusades, has been gone. And she gives the character courage and a headstrong personality.

Russell Crowe gives Robin a good amount of gravity and weight (while wavering between sounding English or Scottish). There are hints of his Maximus from Gladiator in how he plays the character: disillusioned and tired of war, a bit downtrodden by futility. The bleakness he seems to travel through weighs on him, and yet there’s more to the man. He has a certain ingenuity and quick wit, and a sense of fair play and justice. It allows him to say what he thinks- even if others don’t like what he has to say. His Robin comes alive with Marian, and yet the two actors wisely let their characters do a slow burn and get to know each other.

The film is not completely successful. The bleakness of it all is sometimes overwhelming, and playing around with history in the way that it does adds to that (though not in the overwhelming way that you get with Roland Emmerich’s The Patriot). It does feel at times like Gladiator transplanted to medieval England. And it leaves the Sheriff of Nottingham stranded in pretty much cameo status. Still, an uneven Ridley Scott film has more going for it than many other films, and as a director he’s never dull. Taken as a whole, I do like the film, though it’s not my favourite interpretation of the character.

When Lars Ulrich Met Lars Ulrich

Before we get ourselves started today, links to be seen to. Norma has revamped the look of her blog, so go on over and see what it looks like. And at our joint blog yesterday, we did a Snippet Sunday post.

Now then... this was just a matter of time coming, you know...

Entertainment Reporters Perplexed By Two Men With Same Name; Real Reporters Not At All Surprised

Calgary (CP) Heavy metal band Metallica came to town today for a press conference in advance of a weekend of concerts at the Saddledome. Band members James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Robert Trujillo, and Kirk Hammett came out before the assembled press at the Metropolitan Conference Centre. Unfortunately, this being an event about music, the press included entertainment reporters, who are truly some of the dumbest human beings on the planet, in this reporter’s opinion.

“Hello, Santa Monica!!!” Hetfield yelled as he walked in.

“James, we’re in Calgary,” Hammett reminded his bandmate.

“We are?” Hetfield asked. “How did I get through Customs?”

“You were drunk,” Trujillo replied. This reporter rolled his eyes, wondering who he had annoyed by having to be present at a press conference for a pack of over the hill brain damaged heavy metal musicians. Well, it could have been more over the hill. Metallica, after all, are younger than the decrepit Rolling Stones, who have a combined age of ten thousand nine hundred twenty three years old.

“Well, we’re here and we’re gonna blow the roof off the arena, or concert hall, or wherever the hell we’re playing,” Hetfield boasted. “It’s gonna be big, it’s gonna be loud, and it’s gonna be a night to remember! Just as long as no one thinks they’re gonna get away with recording us and putting us on Youtube, because we’re Metallica, and we’re not gonna put up with our music being out there for free! Our fans will pay through the nose for our music!”

This reporter tried not to sigh. Heavy metal, in this reporter’s opinion, is not music. Trujillo spoke up. “It’s a big night for us, isn’t that right, Lars?” he asked, clapping the band’s drummer 

on the back.

“What?” Lars yelled, staring around as if confused. “Speak up, dammit!”

“I said, it’s a big night for us!” Trujillo repeated as a shout.

“Oh! Yeah! Right!” Lars nodded. “Definite big night!”

This reporter spoke up. “How do you answer those who think you’re long past your prime? What, seriously, is the point to your continued touring around the world and playing endless concerts?”

Hetfield replied, “The booze.”

“The groupies!” Hammett added.

“The drugs!” Trujillo noted. “Oh, wait… I’m not supposed to talk about that on the advice of my attorney.”

“What the **** did you just say?” Lars yelled.

At this moment, there was a stir from the back of the room. This reporter looked back, as did a number of other reporters. We all saw him passing by. RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich, the legendary Mountie with a fearsome reputation and a hatred of entertainment reporters. He was in his utility uniform, walking briskly, looking through a folder, not noticing the reporters nearby. At least until a correspondent with Entertainment Tonight called out, “Hey, it’s Lars Ulrich!”

Hetfield looked at Lars. “What the **** does that mean? You’re Lars.”

Inspector Ulrich stopped in his tracks. He looked at the crowd of reporters and sighed in dismay. Entertainment reporters looked back and forth between the band and the Inspector. The correspondent from ET blurted out, “Two Lars Ulrichs? But which one is which? I can’t tell the difference between them.”

Ulrich stared. And then he walked right through the crowd of reporters, up beside the band, pausing as if assessing each of them in turn, and finding each man lacking. He stopped before Lars. “So, you’re the other Lars Ulrich.”

“What???” Lars yelled. “You’ll have to speak up!”

“I said, you’re Lars Ulrich!” Ulrich shouted at him.

“Well of course I am!” Lars said with a nod. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lars Ulrich!” Ulrich yelled at him, sounding angrier by the moment.

“That’s ridiculous!” Lars insisted. “I’m Lars Ulrich, not you. I’m the drummer, not you!”

“I never said I was a drummer! Are you an idiot???” Ulrich shouted in his face.

“No, he’s just a little deaf,” Hammett said. “Thirty plus years of metal music have done that to him.”

Ulrich glared at Hammett. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d tell you what to say.”

The reporters gathered closer. The ET correspondent spoke up, his face seeming to be confused. “Hi, I’m Max Maguire, Entertainment Tonight. Which one of you is the Metallica drummer? I can’t tell the difference.”

“Neither can I,” a reporter with Access Hollywood agreed.

“Wow…” a TMZ correspondent remarked. “It’s like they’re mirror images of each other.”

Ulrich glared at them, standing side by side with Lars. “Are you idiots really that stupid? He doesn’t look anything like me! He’s a lot older than I am! And he looks like he was hit in the face with an ugly stick!” Any real reporter could see that. The two Ulrichs indeed looked nothing alike.

Maguire shook his head. “They must have been separated at birth. That’s the only explanation! Lars! Other Lars! Any chance you two will appear on stage together during that concert?”

Ulrich stepped away from the band, walking towards Maguire. “Run,” he told him in a low, growling voice.

“Is that a no to the joint appearance in the concert?” Maguire asked.

Ulrich turned away for a moment, looking back towards the band. Then he threw a punch, hitting Maguire in the chin, sending him flying eight feet. Maguire rubbed his chin, sitting up. “Is it something I said?”

Ulrich started yelling, running towards Maguire. Some primal instinct urged Maguire to flee, the Inspector hot on his heels. This reporter later learned Maguire turned up in hospital, where he’ll be eating his meals out of a straw for the next six months. In this reporter’s opinion, he had it coming.

The other Lars Ulrich had the last word, in the wake of the Inspector’s departure. “Who was that guy, and did he say something about me getting hit by a goggly tick?”

A Day In The Life Of A Cat

Before getting into today's blog, have a look over at Norma's blog for a post on Christmas traditions. Now then, as always, when there's a day in the life of a dog, it must be followed by the cat's point of view. Sharpen your claws, kitty....

7:35 AM. Waking up. For some reason the staff managed to get out of bed without waking me up. I'm not sure if this is acceptable or not. I prefer being consulted on all matters, particularly when my staff gets out of bed. I missed out on a chance to settle in on a perfectly good warm spot.

7:40 AM. Coming downstairs. The staff is in the kitchen. She's not dressed like she's going off to that work place. Well, staff, it's time for my breakfast. And if you give me field rations, so help me, Isis, I will not be held accountable for my actions...

7:42 AM. Field rations. I roll my eyes. Staff, I am most displeased by having to eat kibbles.

7:46 AM. After much reluctance, I start eating some field rations. So very bland...

8:00 AM. The staff lets me out for a morning constitutional. 

8:05 AM. On my morning inspection of the grounds. Off in the distance I can hear that annoying mutt from down the road barking his annoying head off.

8:23 AM. Conducting surveillance on the neighbour's bird feeder. Plenty of sparrows, blue jays, cardinals, and whatever else are having seed this morning. Unfortunately they have a mutually agreed system of maintaining a watch out for someone like me. Six of them are watching me right now. I get within twenty feet and they'll scatter to the winds.

You win this round, birds.

8:40 AM. Returning home. Leaping onto the windowsill and meowing to get my staff's attention.

8:42 AM. The staff finally opens the back door.

8:43 AM. I am met by the scent of baking. She's making cookies.

Staff, that smell is welcome indeed... particularly if you use liver paste for some of the cookies.

9:10 AM. Supervising the baking. She's using those rollers to flatten the dough. I don't suppose I could have one of those doughballs? Just to make sure you're getting the job done right?

9:12 AM. A glance at the calendar. Oh, yes, we're in December. That means all this baking is for Christmas. 

Just as long as the staff isn't inviting her idiot relations over without consulting me.

9:15 AM. The staff is interrupted by the phone. She goes off to answer it, while I am left alone with a tray of cookies soon to go into the oven.

9:17 AM. The staff returns from her call and counts the number of cookies on the tray, as if wondering how many cookies were on that tray.

I do my best to look innocent. Cookie dough really is delicious.

10:05 AM. The smell of baking cookies fills the house. I continue to supervise the staff.  At the moment, she's making a batch of chocolate chip cookies. She has yet to make any liver paste cookies, for some reason.

10:55 AM. Now it's sugar cookies shaped like little Santas. What about shaping them to look like cats? That would appeal to lots of people, staff.

11:35 AM. The baking continues. Lunch coming up soon. I purr to my heart's content.

12:10 PM. The staff is making lunch. She cuts off some chunks of cheese for me.

I will say this, staff. You have good taste in cheese. Gouda is delicious.

3:40 PM. Waking up from a nap. More baking smells. Christmas music is on the stereo. Oh, no, not Feliz Navidad. 

3:41 PM. Finding the staff in the kitchen. Staff, you do realize that song is a crime against humanity? The only way it can sound worse is to have that awful Streisand person sing it.

3:46 PM. Now the song has switched to Jingle Bell Rock. I don't care for Elvis either.

I'm going into the basement for awhile. At least the sound doesn't filter down there...

5:10 PM. Finally the staff isn't listening to tacky songs. You know, staff, if you're going to listen to Christmas music, why not have it be something good?

6:25 PM. The staff and I settle down to dinner. She's set aside some stewing beef for me. Very good staff, very good indeed, but it would be even better if you put it on fine china as opposed to a cat dish.

8:25 PM. Snoozing on the couch. The staff has been baking most of the day. At the moment, for some reason, she's baking a Christmas fruitcake. Come on, staff, you were baking so many better things earlier today... why did you have to diminish your record by making one of those things?

8:40 PM. Pondering the mysteries of life while the staff works in the kitchen. What is the meaning of the Red Dot? Why are dogs so inherently stupid? Just who actually eats a Christmas fruitcake?

11:50 PM. The staff is turning out lights as she heads upstairs. She bids me good night.

Staff, why didn't you include liver paste cookies in your baking today?