Lucky 13 Reviews
THE DEATH OF ROBIN HOOD — REVIEW
A Grim, Demanding Tale That Strips the Hero From the Legend
Stats
Release Date
June 19, 2026
Tomatometer
67 %
Letterboxd
3.1 / 5
Running Time
123 mins
Official Synopsis
A stark and grounded reimagining of the classic legend, the film finds Robin Hood as an aging, battle-worn outlaw grapple with a lifetime of violent choices and criminal survival. Severely injured and hiding away on the fringes of society, he is taken in by a mysterious, sharp-witted woman who offers a chance at quiet salvation. However, as bounty hunters, old enemies, and the shifting tides of the kingdom close in on his final sanctuary, Robin must summon whatever strength remains in his broken body to reckon with his past actions, his enduring mythos, and the true cost of his legacy.
Ensemble
Hugh Jackman as Robin Hood
Jodie Comer as Sister Brigid
Bill Skasgard as Edward
Katie Breen as Margaret
Murray Bartlett as The Leper
Architects
Director
Michael Sarnoski
Writer
Michael Sarnoski
Producers
Aaron Ryder, Andrew Swett, Alexander Black, Hugh Jackman
Production Info
| Studio Production Companies | Ryder Picture Company, Lyrical Media |
| Theatrical Distributors | A24 (Domestic Tracking) |
| Screenwriter | Michael Sarnoski |
| Filming Locations | Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire Woodland, United Kingdom |
Production Vault
| Motion Picture Rating | R (Expected for grim period violence and bloody injuries) |
| Aspect Ratio | 2.39:1 |
| Production Status | Released (Theatrical Premiere June 19, 2026) |
Behind The Lens Spotlight
Director Michael Sarnoski steps into the mythic woods of the UK with a firm intent to strip away the clean, lighthearted romanticism historically tied to the folktale. Partnering with indie powerhouse A24, Sarnoski deploys gritty camera work and high-contrast shadow tracking to paint an intimate, slow-burn picture. The creative direction deliberately focuses on the stark physical breakdown of an aging outlaw, framing the legend not through cinematic grandeur but through a hauntingly naturalistic lens.
Official Trailer
Ray's Thoughts
Where have all our heroes gone? Were they even heroes to begin with? This is the central, haunting question posed by director Michael Sarnoski in his latest cinematic endeavor, The Death of Robin Hood. The film grabs the audience immediately with an unrelenting, brutally violent experience that takes zero prisoners, particularly throughout its action-heavy first half. The combat sequences are fast, furious, and staged with a bone-crunching, painfully realistic medieval savagery. In this grim universe, nobody is spared, not children, not women, and certainly not our legendary protagonist.
True to its title, the film then undergoes a drastic narrative shift, slowing down to a crawl to recount the final days of the titular figure. However, this is not the dashing, altruistic hero of classic literature and Hollywood cinema. Instead, Sarnoski gives us a broken man living in absolute agony and regret over a bloody past that was anything but heroic. He lives trapped in the gargantuan shadow of the very folktales that describe a mythic protector who simply does not exist. In reality, he is a brutal, unforgiving outlaw who, like most people of the era, is merely trudging through a miserable, day-to-day existence trying to find simple warmth and an end to his starvation.
This second half evolves into an intimate, meditative character study that is deeply reminiscent of Sarnoski’s breakout feature, Pig. As Robin tries to heal from a near-fatal battle, Hugh Jackman truly settles into the role, delivering a powerhouse performance as he navigates the fragile possibility of a new life, one entirely divorced from his violent past and the unrealistic folk mythology attached to his name. Yet, when an unexpected stranger arrives at his sanctuary, it reawakens old, lethal instincts that clash violently with his newfound peace. Opposite Jackman, Jodie Comer is phenomenal as the angelic Sister Brigid, a nun who patiently nurses Robin back to physical, emotional, and psychological health.
Beyond the raw brutality of the opening act, the first thing the audience will notice is just how breathtakingly beautiful the film is. The first half offers a stark, severe aesthetic defined by harsh, unforgiving landscapes and a sparse, de-saturated color palette that perfectly reflects a joyless time period. But midway through, the cinematography shifts beautifully into a nature-filled, oasis-like tapestry of European visuals. The production design feels immaculately authentic, relying heavily on natural lighting and grounded, realistic settings that effortlessly transport the audience to the era. Every shot feels meticulously composed, mimicking the texture of a period painting. It is precisely at this midpoint pivot where audience opinions will inevitably split; some will deeply appreciate the introspective, slow-burn shift, while others will yearn for the visceral, high-octane action of the film’s first hour.
As for me, I fell firmly into the former camp. I thoroughly enjoyed the emotional journey of a man discovering a late-in-life path toward redemption after a lifetime defined by slaughter. The script shares profound thematic elements with Clint Eastwood’s western masterpiece Unforgiven, specifically in how it examines the toxic weight of a violent reputation versus the harsh reality of human nature, and the desperate struggle to overcome past sins. Both Comer and Jackman turn in excellent, deeply soulful performances as individuals operating under immense psychological burdens.
Admittedly, The Death of Robin Hood is not an easy, audience-friendly watch. The pacing is incredibly demanding, and after the visceral, action-packed opening, settling into such a contemplative rhythm can be a challenging adjustment. However, if you buy into the film's deliberate conceit, the narrative sneaks up on you in a final act that delivers a surprisingly fascinating subversion of a classic heroic death. Rather than a loud, action-oriented climax, the finale is an introspective accounting of sins and a peaceful acceptance of mortality.
The Death of Robin Hood will likely stand as a deeply divisive piece of cinema. Some viewers will undoubtedly roll their eyes at the subdued, tragic ending, but the sheer brutality of the first half functions almost as a warning, begging the audience not to embrace violence. Depending on one’s frame of mind, you will either be highly receptive or deeply resistant to this approach. It's this divisive nature that prevents the film from being truly great. But I profoundly admire Sarnoski’s effort to give us something genuinely different, a film that dares to deconstruct an icon and demands that the audience consider a more human alternative.
The Final Verdict
★★★★★Lucky 13 Rating
The Death of Robin Hood stands as a remarkably grim, existentially heavy subversion of folklore that audaciously swaps traditional swashbuckling romance for a bone-crunching, uncompromising portrait of medieval survival. By dividing its narrative into a punishingly violent first half and an immaculately shot, deeply contemplative second hour, director Michael Sarnoski crafts a fascinating, slow-burn tragedy that mirrors the melancholic character deconstruction of his previous masterpiece, Pig. Anchored by an animalistic, physically grueling performance from Hugh Jackman and a deeply grounding, soulful turn by Jodie Comer, this challenging, Unforgiven-esque epic rejects the easy path of audience-friendly blockbuster tropes, demanding instead a patient audience willing to witness an icon reckon with his sins, his manufactured legacy, and his ultimate, quiet mortality.
🎬 Expanded Fun Facts
- Sarnoski's Shift: Acclaimed director Michael Sarnoski approaches this mythos with the same melancholic, character-driven focus that defined his breakout thriller Pig and A Quiet Place: Day One.
- Star Pair: Action titan Hugh Jackman and Jodie Comer lead this gritty reconstruction, promising a heavy, performance-first focus over standard blockbuster action tropes.
- Pastoral Production: Principal photography heavily leveraged authentic, raw wilderness landscapes to avoid clean digital backdrops and anchor the film's heavy, naturalistic weight.
