BBC Robin Hood: 39 Episodes Ranked

Ages ago I mentioned doing a comprehensive write-up of the BBC’s Robin Hood, a show that ran from 2006 to 2009, was comprised of thirty-nine episodes in total, and which continues to be something of an albatross around my neck. It was the basis of my very first fandom experience, which involved watching the series unfold on a weekly basis before discussing each episode with others in chatrooms and on LiveJournal, and contributing a few stories to the pool of fanfiction. I made friends in that fandom who I am still in contact with to this day, and it inspired a lot of my own writing, whether it be fanfiction or original work.

That’s not to say it was objectively good. Along with messy storylines, inconsistent characterization and a tiny budget, it also contains one of the most inexplicably terrible creative decisions I’ve ever seen in my life (if you’re familiar with the show, you’ll know what I’m talking about).

That promised write-up is still forthcoming, as it’s very difficult to discuss something dispassionately when you have such strong feelings about it. In the meantime, I’ve recently concluded a rewatch of the show in its entirety with my friend, a first-time viewer. It was fun watching it through a pair of fresh eyes over the course of a year or so, and it inspired me – in lieu of a proper, in-depth review of the show – to rank all thirty-nine episodes.

This was slightly more complicated than it sounds. Sometimes episodes are bad or good not just in themselves, but regarding context – where they’re placed in the show and how positively I feel about what comes before and after them. For instance, many singular episodes are solidly put together but belong in series three, which I dislike on principle. I’d rather watch a weak series one episode (“Dead Man Walking”) that contains my favourite characters than one of the stronger season three episodes (“Do You Love Me?”) in which they’re dead or absent.

Some episodes showcase strong characterization or important plot-points in stories that are narratively all over the place, so what do we rank higher: well-constructed filler episodes (“The Angel of Death”) or tentpole episodes that are complete gibberish (“Let the Games Commence”)? There’s also personal bias when it comes to my favourite characters – I’m naturally going to enjoy the Will/Djaq/Allan-centric episodes more than anything that spotlights Tuck or Kate.

(Then there are those that contain genuinely offensive material like “A Dangerous Deal,” the most misogynistic forty-five minutes of television you’ve ever seen!)

What’s more important: coherent plots or narrative significance or entertainment value? Everyone’s going to have a different opinion, and I can’t pretend I’ve been in any way consistent with how I’ve chosen to rank these episodes. Some are higher because they’re crucial to the overarching storylines, some because they’re fun to watch, some because they’re well-written. Some rank lower despite being all these things because I don’t like the way the characters are treated, or because it’s time-wasting filler, or because they take place in series three.

In other words, I won’t pretend this list isn’t subjective, but it’s my list so I can do whatever I want with it.

The method with which I sorted these episodes was to divide them into five groups of seven, roughly ranging from the best to the worst, and then ranking the entries of each category with more accuracy. As it happens, some of the grading surprised me, certain episodes being higher or lower than I initially assumed they’d be.

So below the cut you’ll find the thirty-nine episodes of the BBC’s Robin Hood, divided into five categories ranked from the absolute worst to the very best, so we can get the negativity out of the way quickly (though just to wrap things up, there’s a bonus category of episodes which are so terrible they defy the ranking system).

The “I’m in the mood to punish myself” tier...

36. Bad Blood

Remember when Robin and Guy were kids together? When it was common knowledge that Robin’s dad was about to marry Guy’s mother? Remember when Guy blamed himself for killing his mother after he accidentally he set fire to their house, something that’s haunted him for years (including, presumably, when he torched Marian’s house while she was still standing in it)? How about when Robin and Isabella knew each other as children? Or when Guy was nearly hanged after Robin’s arrow destroyed some pyrotechnics and both kept quiet about who was really responsible?

No? That’s because it’s genuinely insane that NOBODY HAS EVER MENTIONED ANY OF THIS BEFORE.

This episode ranks so low despite its novelty factor as a Whole Episode Flashback because it’s ultimately a completely pointless endeavour: an elaborate attempt to introduce a replacement for Robin Hood in anticipation of Jonas Armstrong’s departure, only for the show to get cancelled before that actually happened.

And the leaps of logic used to reach that narrative endpoint are absolutely staggering. Yes, Robin’s father Malcolm has been hiding out in Sherwood Forest, presumably just out of sight behind a couple of trees, THIS ENTIRE TIME. And he’s come out of hiding decades after his pointless self-inflicted exile at just the right moment and in precisely the right place to tell Robin and Guy about their shared history and mutual half-brother that has never existed before this very episode.

He somehow knows that Archer is being held in a York prison and awaiting execution, circumstances which also magically coincide with his half-brothers stumbling upon each other in Sherwood. And Guy, the man who sold his other sibling to a psychopath “for a good price,” cares about this for some reason.

Who could have imagined that this contrived insanity was the only thing that could have brought Guy and Robin together as trusted allies after the brutal murder of the latter’s wife at the former’s hands?

Just… let the absurdity of all this fetid nonsense sink in for a couple of seconds.

The shark jumped long ago, back when Marian was stabbed to death, but with this episode, the shark has been Frankenstein-ed back to life and is begging for someone to put it out of its misery.

Highlights: I got nothing. This is ranked lowest for a reason.

Lowpoints: There’s a lot of stuff I could put here – the excruciating contrivance of Malcolm, the absence of a little Much or Marian in the flashbacks, the woobification of adolescent Guy, the eye-rolling attempt to recreate the Guy/Marian/Robin love triangle between Malcolm/Ghislaine/Roger, the stupidity of Robin’s recurve bow appearing in a shaft of light sent from heaven – but honestly, the thing that bugs me the most is when Ghislaine announces: “There will be no lord [of the manor]. Instead, there will be a lady.”

It’s a gratuitous attempt to provide lip-service to a strong female character™ right before they shove her into a love triangle, strip her of all autonomy, use her body to push out the next male lead, and then promptly fridge her in the stupidest way possible to galvanize yet more manpain.

Honestly, that pathetic girl-power line ticks me off so much more than if the writers hadn’t bothered at all. I would have actually respected it if they had just used her as the nothing plot device she was instead of trying to wring out that single droplet of feminist cred. At least it would have been honest.

This Episode’s Most Stupid Thing: Ghislaine gets elbowed in the face, falls over and dies immediately. I mean, they’re so desperate to kill off women at this point that they don’t even care how it happens.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Jonas Armstrong and Richard Armitage are the only regulars that appear in this episode, but because Armitage missed out on two episodes early in the season (thanks to his commitment to Spooks) it leaves Jonas Armstrong as the only actor to appear in every single episode of Robin Hood.

35. Cause and Effect

I mean, where to start? The boring Irish brothers who have no thematic relevance to the plot? The conscripted Locksley men that Robin promises to call upon when the need arises and who are subsequently never seen or mentioned again? The tonal shift from Marian’s brutal murder two episodes ago to Much gleefully crying “we’re back!” while Robin grins merrily?

Or the main attraction herself, the first appearance of Kate, introduced as a squawking idiot who breaks everything she touches and makes every situation worse, only for the outlaws to revere her instantly? Your new female lead, everyone! Twenty seconds in and we were already sick to death of her.

Kate in her natural habitat

Highlights: I dunno. The complete dissolution of Guy and the Sheriff’s relationship was a long time coming, and the little mouse was cute, I guess.

Lowpoints: Kate, of course. Everyone in the fandom was dreading her arrival, and then she somehow ended up being even worse than anyone could have ever anticipated. It’s almost impressive.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: It’s not that Robin hang-glides from the parapets of Nottingham Castle from a canopy, it’s that Robin hang-glides from the parapets of Nottingham Castle from a canopy that HAS NEVER BEEN THERE BEFORE.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Okay, so you know that scene in which Kate high-kicks the guard in the face before doing a runner for the trees? On the day, Joanne Froggatt accidentally kicked the stuntman in the mouth and split his lip.

34. Lost in Translation

If you forgot this episode even existed, that’s fine. Of all 39 episodes that comprise the show in its entirety, “Lost in Translation” is by far the most negligible. There is no character development, no meaningful plot, no continuity nods, just 45 minutes of pure filler.

Of course, these days we’re all waxing nostalgically about filler episodes; those standalone stories that contain a beginning, middle and end, featuring relatively low stakes that give the audience and characters a chance to take a breather. Nothing wrong with that! The problem is, this episode commits a greater crime than being pointless: it’s also really boring.

The Sheriff has another cockamamie scheme to destroy Robin Hood once and for all this time (sure Jan) by extorting a visiting Cardinal into condemning the outlaws as heretics and threatening anyone who harbours them with excommunication. The villagers take this to heart, not only rejecting Robin’s attempts to help them, but cheering on his death when he’s about to be burnt at the stake. Why does he even bother with these ingrates?

Highlights: Brace yourself for this one, but – Kate.

This is easily Kate’s best episode, involving a scene in which Joanne Froggatt is allowed to depict a complex emotion instead of pure Id (when she reluctantly casts the outlaws from her house) and another in which she’s useful in a way that only she could have been (usually the writers have her accomplish tasks that anyone is capable of doing, but in this case she’s in a unique position to palm the arrowhead into Robin’s hand by feigning righteous anger).

This is the first and last time she’ll be given vaguely nuanced material to work with, and if she had been a one-off character in this single episode, I doubt anyone would have had a problem with her. But of course, in the grand scheme of things it’s ironic that her best episode is also the most insignificant one of the entire show.

Lowpoints: There’s a scene about halfway through in which Tuck and Allan break into the castle, and Allan (the team’s pickpocket and sneak thief) inexplicably becomes very clumsy and loud. Yes, it’s the old “make a popular original character act like an idiot so that the unpopular new character can roll his eyes at him” ploy. Genius tactic there, writers. I’m sure it won’t backfire AT ALL. 

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Tuck’s ninja moves. I don’t mean this as an insult, but David Harewood is a very heavyset man – that is, he has a large and sturdy physique. Which is why, when the footage cuts to his stunt double in a darkened wide-shot suddenly engaging in some very nimble high-kicks and acrobatics, it is downright hilarious to suppose anyone could have been fooled into believing it was David Harewood:

It reminds me of Graham Norton’s Poofy the Vampire Slayer skit:

One Little Piece of Trivia: The actor who played the Cardinal is David Hayman, who also appeared in Andor as the clan leader who led the pilgrimage on Aldani. Go watch that show instead of this one.

33. Sins of the Father

The second, third and fourth episodes of series three somehow feel like The Kate Trilogy since she’s so front and center of everything that goes on. She’s the fetch that’s never going to happen. She’s the cowbell that Christopher Walken wants to hear more of. She’s the Poochie that never dies on the way back to her home planet. She’s here, the writers are inexplicably obsessed with her, and the show itself isn’t ever going to let you forget it. It’s Kate’s world and everyone else just lives in it.

"We come to worship our new Main Character."

And yet I’ve always gotten the impression that this episode was reasonably well-regarded in fandom (at least by series three standards). It just never did much for me, and the only thing that saves it from being “Lost in Translation”-level filler is the contrivance of Kate joining the outlaws, and that’s achieved in the most infuriatingly nonsensical way possible.

Basically, it’s something to twiddle our thumbs over while waiting for Gisborne to return and the actual plot of series three to begin.

Highlights: Allan, remember him? He was the breakout star of series two, during which he betrayed his friends, joined forces with Guy, and grappled with a guilty conscience in the wake of his bad decision-making. Then he was reduced to little more than an extra in series three. Except in this episode, where he’s given lines! And a personality! And the chance to actually do stuff.

Lowpoints: For the third episode in a row, the writers are all-in on Kate, this time detailing how she becomes an outlaw in a way that makes no sense whatsoever. After needlessly antagonizing the new tax collector and getting kidnapped, Kate has to leave home after she’s rescued by the outlaws, since fraternizing with them (defined here as “being in the same room as them”) is apparently a capital offense.

The first time Kate is sexually menaced
by a bad guy, but certainly not the last

Yet said tax collector not only doesn’t pass on this information to the Sheriff, but by this stage it’s unclear why Vaizey would even care if a random peasant girl was briefly seen with Robin Hood. Kate then spends the rest of the episode loudly insisting she needs to get home to look after her mother and sister, leading to Robin coming up with a plan that is explicitly designed to allow her to do this.

And yet at the end of the episode, she accepts the boys’ invitation for her to join them permanently in the forest, even though she hasn’t been formally declared an outlaw, has been very vocal about wanting to return to her family, and hasn’t done anything to demonstrate why she’d be a useful asset to the team dynamic.

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: That final arrow shot. Robin fires an arrow straight up into the air, which not only goes high enough for Nottingham to be reduced to the size of a model, not only manages to turn around in midair, not only falls with enough momentum and precision to kill a man, but does all this before Rufus’s arm completes its downward trajectory (and he had raised his dagger to stab his son before Robin takes the shot).

Also Kate’s forehead braid. It’s my last chance to mention it, and man is it stupid.

Much notices Kate's hair for the first time

One Little Piece of Trivia: This episode commits the show’s most glaring continuity error, in which the Sheriff claims that Rufus’s father was his first execution, even though the first two series firmly established he’d been in the position for less than five years, the Sheriff before him having been Marian’s father Edward. This was an oft-repeated, plot-relevant detail throughout the first two seasons, and that it’s ignored here is another indication that series three writers just didn’t care.

32. Let The Games Commence

This one vied closely with “Sins of the Father” for this position, and technically its predecessor is much better written, especially compared to this one, which is all over the place. Motives and objectives keep changing, people act wildly out of character for no apparent reason, and a couple of backstories are completely retconned. There’s a page on TV Tropes called Random Events Plot, and this episode embodies that to a T.

Let’s see, Gisborne returns from London with a garrison of Prince John’s “elite” soldiers (who aren’t discernibly any less shit at their jobs than the Sheriff’s guards) and the outlaws run around the forest like headless chickens trying to escape them, because these new guys are somehow better able to negotiate Sherwood’s terrain than people who’ve been living there for several years.

A mangy lion which probably died of old age a few minutes after shooting wrapped is set loose on the outlaws; it ambles towards them for a bit before Robin throws mustard powder at it, something Isabella just happens to be carrying on her person for no discernable reason.

It's not even paying attention to them in this shot

Little John ends up enlisted in a gladiatorial fighting circus run by a child trafficker that has absolutely nothing to do with anything else that’s going on in the episode, while Guy – the character who has spent the last two series bemoaning how he has no family at all – suddenly has a sister that he sold at age thirteen to a psychopath, a fact he will remain completely unrepentant about.

The elite soldiers are defeated when giant fishing nets are thrown over them, and the lion disappears without explanation. Then an orphanage magically appears on the outskirts of Nottingham so the outlaws can drop of their latest bevy of kids who are never seen again.

What the hell did I just watch?

Highlights: I dunno. Isabella’s dress? Some nice shots of the forest? As stated, “Sins of the Father” is better written, but this moves along at a much faster pace, and at least contains the introduction of Isabella. As divisive as she was, you can’t say she was boring or useless, and with her arrival in the fifth episode of the third series, the plot can finally start.

Lowpoints: It would be easy to say Kate, who in her first episode as an official outlaw does absolutely nothing to justify her presence among them, spending the episode’s duration arguing with Robin, snapping at Much, and throwing a pathetic snit at the presence of another woman in the vicinity. WHY IS SHE HERE? WHAT DOES SHE CONTRIBUTE? WHY DID NO ONE THINK ABOUT WHAT HER FUNCTION AS A CHARACTER WOULD BE? SHE HAS NO HELPFUL SKILLS AND NO NARRATIVE PURPOSE WHATSOEVER! It’s clear in this episode more than any other just how superfluous she is on a number of Doylist/Watsonian levels, not helped by the fact she’s in a competition with herself to get more and more odious with each passing episode.

But the truth is, the real lowpoint is Robin grabbing Isabella by the throat and describing her abusive husband sending violent men to drag her back to him as “an act of love.”

"Is there a reason you're holding
my wrists like I'm in handcuffs?"

"Aaaaaand, now he's got me in a headlock."

"Seriously dude, why are you squeezing my head?!"

I’m sorry, Robin. I do realize they had to deliberately turn you into an asshole to force Isabella into the role of villain and make mass-murdering Gisborne look more palatable by comparison, but you can just fuck off with that bullshit. And take Kate with you.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Do I even have to say it? It starts with L and ends with “never mind, it just died of exhaustion on its way to kill you.”

One Little Piece of Trivia: The little boy who played Walt is called James Buckley, and this is his one and only acting credit. I wonder what he’s up to these days...

31. The King is Dead, Long Live the King

Sometimes episodes rank lower not because they’re bad, but because their potential is squandered, which makes them not just bad, but also disappointing. This one has Gisborne finally being declared Sheriff, Toby Stephens’s last appearance as Prince John, the presumed death of King Richard and all that entails, a full ensemble cast, plenty of court politics – so why is it so unspeakably dull? And why does it feel like meaningless filler despite ostensibly being so important?

It had all the components to be something fairly memorable, and instead it plays out like a cheap Hercules episode, with a farcical tone that puts it at odds with much worse episodes that at least have the dignity to take themselves seriously. It also includes the arrival of Robin’s mentor who has never been mentioned before, the worst of that excretable love triangle between Kate/Much/Allan, and Isabella getting subjected to constant harassment and assault at the hands of various men, which the audience is clearly meant to believe she deserves.  

There’s just an inherent stupidity and laziness to it that doesn’t even achieve camp-level amusement.

Highpoints: Toby Stephens is still here? And despite feeling largely pointless, it does establish one important plot-point: Isabella is now the Sheriff of Nottingham.

Lowpoints: Guess who! For those keeping count, Kate has featured in seven episodes so far, and been injured, threatened, taken captive or held hostage in five of them. Sometimes more than once. Here she’s at the height of her obnoxiousness and the writers at their bottom-of-the-barrel scraping to desperately convince us there’s a reason for her presence (she notices the Richard corpse is a waxwork! She grabs the crown in the church! She distracts Sheridan in the tavern! Is there a reason any of the other outlaws weren’t capable of achieving these very simple tasks??!)

Yep, this again

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Robin steals the crown from the castle saferoom, which not only has a series of ropes rigged up to trigger crossbow bolts if they’re jostled, but a box filled with badly rendered CGI scorpions. There are of course, no guards. I just... can’t.

Four Little Pieces of Trivia: Isabella wears a very fetching high-collared red robe in this episode, and if you think it looks familiar, that’s because Helen Mirren wore it as Queen Elizabeth I, as did Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn, Veerle Baetens as Margaret of Anjou, and Charlotte Hope as Catherine of Aragon.

And before you scoff at the idea of a woman being declared Sheriff in the 13th century, let it be known that Prince John (or King John, as he was at the time) did in fact appoint a woman Sheriff of Lincolnshire in 1216: Nicola de la Haie.

Also, this is the eighth episode of the third series, and marks the very first time the show has visited Kirklees Abbey, a significant location in the Robin Hood legends (it’s where he’s generally described as shooting his last arrow before dying).

Finally, this episode features a waxwork of King Richard, and actor Steven Waddington came back especially to have his face cast in order to create a passable resemblance.

Okay, maybe the highlight of this episode is all the far more interesting trivia that it contains.

The “eh, there’s nothing else on television, so whatever” tier...

30. Total Eclipse

On the one hand, this is the only episode in series three that grapples directly with the murder of Marian. On the other hand, I don’t like to be reminded of that fact.

It’s not bad in terms of structure, it gives Tuck a decent introduction, the breakdown of Guy and the Sheriff’s relationship is fairly compelling, the outlaws aren’t just hanging out in the background, and there’s a visible boost in the budget. Maybe, just maybe, they could have salvaged this show...

But then the rest of series three happens. The truth is, the loss of Marian (and Will and Djaq, who are never seen or heard from again) forms a gaping hole that the show will never recover from. It’s all very well saying that you fight for a higher cause and hordes of interchangeable peasants, but if you can’t bring all that down to very personal stakes, then the audience has no reason to care. Without the emotional center Marian provided, it’s pretty obvious that this is the beginning of the end. 

Highlights: In a display of continuity that’s all the more staggering for having stretched across two seasons, Lee Ross reprises his role as Sir Jasper and smarms his way all over the screen. It’s a pity he never made a third appearance as part of Prince John’s entourage.  

Lowpoints: This episode ends with Robin burying Marian’s ring (which looks like nothing we’ve ever seen her wear before) under a tree, which is a truly baffling thing for any grieving widower to do. Wouldn’t you keep any keepsake of your beloved on your person? But of course, the reason he does this is Doylist in nature – as the very next episode demonstrates, the writers aren’t remotely interested in exploring the long, arduous, excruciating journey out of bereavement, especially not of a young woman cut down in the prime of life with everything ahead of her. Robin’s act of figuratively burying Marian attests to this fact. 

She’ll only be sporadically mentioned across the course of the final series, which naturally raises one simple, bewildering question: if you weren’t going to explore the fallout of Marian’s death, then why on earth did you go through with it in the first place??

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Much is captured by guards and forced to dig a hole. Allan creates a distraction in the forest and the Sheriff sends all his men chasing after him. Then, while the Sheriff’s back is turned, Little John hoists Much out of the hole with a rope and into a tree without the Sheriff hearing anything. What.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Does the little girl that Gisborne dangles over the cliff look familiar? A couple of years later she played young Lily Evans in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

29. The Enemy of My Enemy

Taken completely on its own, this episode isn’t bad, and could even be described as “fun” if you look at it the right way (that is, if you squint). It’s reasonably well structured, has the novelty of Robin and Guy working together, and is an important tentpole episode – even though it sets up the next Robin Hood three episodes before the show is cancelled, rendering the whole thing completely moot.

Yes, “Guy and Robin share a hitherto unheard-of half-brother” is not a sentence I ever thought I’d write back when I first started watching this show, but it’s a plot they actually decided to go with in order to justify Robin and Guy teaming up, despite the brutal murder of the former’s wife at the latter’s hands. Imagine telling this to the cast back at the start of series one. I imagine half of them would have quit on the spot.

"My backstory is WHAT?"

Highlights: There’s a sort of fascinating surreal quality to the whole thing – like yes, this really did air on television back in June 2009. They really did try to set up for a proposed series four by pulling out the “secret half-brother” card. This episode is a thing that actually exists.

Lowpoints: Guy and Allan are in each other’s vicinity for the first time since series two, during which they shared something that was remarkably close to a friendship. So, do they have anything to say to each other now that they find themselves back on the same side? Of course not! There’s not a single interesting dynamic on this show that the writers don’t run away from as fast as their legs can carry them.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Archer’s entire look. I mean, what were they going for here? Ninja Pirate Jedi? And he fights with katanas and throwing stars? And he’s got a birthmark in the shape of an arrowhead? And he’s a loveable roguish lady’s man? And he’s as good an archer as Robin Hood himself? I just... stop... just stop it, please. We give Kate a hard time for being a Mary Sue, but Archer may as well have had Gary Stu tattooed on his forehead.

One Little Piece of Trivia: The show’s decision to place most of the action in Yorkshire is no doubt due to the fact that this is where the very earliest Robin Hood legends were based – in fact, it was Barnstable rather than Sherwood that served as the original forest where he took refuge as an outlaw.

28. Dead Man Walking

The worst episode of series one, and its lowest ranked episode. I’ll admit, it was a close one between this and “Peace? Off!” and I have the feeling a lot of people will disagree with my choice. I mean, a bittersweet and effecting reunion between Little John and his family is somehow worse than those lycra-clad assassin ladies?

But the reason I’m going with this one is that even though “Peace? Off!” is bad in a number of ways, “Dead Man Walking” is... well, just kinda boring. It’s the obligatory Little John episode; we get one every season, and you can tell the writers aren’t hugely interested in his character.

Though there’s some nice continuity with the return of Alice Little (not seen since the two-part premiere), she’s asked to go through the five stages of grief across the single scene in which she’s reunited with her husband, and is then shipped off by the end of the episode, never to be seen again. The plot is choppy, there’s so much ADR, Marian just sits there while people are getting tortured, and there’s a lot of needless repetition to the scenes.

So I’m pitting the emotional stakes of Little John farewelling his family against Much in “Peace? Off!” establishing a rapport with Harold, and even though the former is a regular and the latter a guest-star, I found Harold’s story to be more affecting.

Highlights: Robin and Allan dress up as guards which is always fun, though I’m surprised they didn’t do it more often once they had those outfits in their possession. Little John finally gets some screentime, and the same actors who played his wife and son in the premiere are brought back to reprise their characters (continuity being a rare commodity on this show). 

Lowpoints: Do we like Little John? Yes. Is his character interesting enough to sustain the plot of an entire episode? Um, maybe not so much. This episode’s greatest crime is that it’s just boring, and feels like it was thrown together in a matter of hours. The fight scenes, the staging, the directing – it all just feels incredibly rushed and awkward.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: I know “Peace? Off!” is notorious for the assassin ladies, but the truth is they’re not actually in it that much, and aren’t any more ridiculous than the Sheriff rounding up people who can’t pay their taxes to be tortured in front of the nobles for entertainment. Seriously, what?

One Little Piece of Trivia: The little boy who played Little John’s son really was credited as “Little Little John” in the end titles.  

27. Peace? Off!

The nicest thing I can say about this episode is that it is trying to say something genuine, though the whole thing falls apart on close inspection. As in a lot of episodes, there are two distinct plotlines at work. Good episodes have these plots merge together before the end credits (like “Brothers in Arms” and “Turk Flu”) while the bad ones keep them completely unrelated (“Parenthood” and “Too Hot to Handle.”) In this case, the two plots are as follows:

The outlaws find a soldier with “crusader’s sickness” (or PTSD) who is having blackouts and fits of violence. We later discover he was captured and tortured by assassins, and the healing can only begin after he slaughters them all. Sure.

Meanwhile, Saladin’s cousin Prince Malik has come to try and negotiate peace with England, a storyline in which absolutely nothing makes sense. Where’s his entourage? Why on earth is he trying to barter with Prince John and not King Richard? Why go to Nottingham and not London? He really travelled all the way from the Holy Land, by himself, to talk to the man who’s not even in charge? How does he not realize he’s being held hostage? Why is Saladin trying to kill him? Why does he plan to go home after realizing his uncle sent assassins after him? Just how stupid is this guy meant to be??

The two plots intersect when it turns out Harold was tortured by the same assassins who have now been sent to kill Prince Malik, but it all comes together like wet cheese in a keyhole. There’s some odd editing, overdubbed dialogue, and dodgy CGI throughout (the sequence in which the outlaws snatch Malik is particularly awkward, in which we hear dozens of arrows whizzing through the trees, but see only a couple of them).

Highlights: As heavy handed as it could be at times, I do appreciate that the show attempted to draw some parallels between the Robin Hood stories and the War on Terror that was currently going on at the time – it was well-meaning, unique to this particular retelling, and had the potential to be interesting. There were some nice scenes between Harold and Much, both suffering for the same reason in their different ways, with the latter realizing that kindness and communication were ways in which to get through to his patient. This PTSD angle, so prevalent throughout series one, was completely jettisoned by the third series, and was sorely missed.

Lowpoints: Special mention to Harold’s camo pants and army boots, surely the most incongruous anachronism in a show that was full of them, but the episode is remiss in not having Malik invite Djaq to return home with him. It’s obviously an offer he would have made, which would have given her the opportunity to make a choice, when up until now she clearly stayed with the outlaws because she had nowhere else to go.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing:

Need I say more? Okay, I will, but where to start? The turquoise body suits? The awkward fighting/Charlie’s Angels pose? The target practice with ninja stars that subsequently never get used? That they’re clearly all white ladies in brownface and heavy eyeliner? Truly the nadir of season one.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Keith Allan was pretty well-known for adlibbing his way through this show, but he really goes for broke in this episode. I’m not even sure what’s going on in some of these screencaps:

26. Too Hot to Handle

By the standards of series three, this isn’t a bad episode – but it’s still a series three episode, which brings it down on principle. The court politics between Prince John, Gisborne, Isabella and Robin continue in the immediate aftermath of the Sheriff’s supposed death, framed by the far less interesting issue of Nottingham dealing with a heat wave.

This episode also marks the end of the fraught romance between Robin and Isabella, a relationship that concludes just as incoherently as it began.

All to clear the way for THIS nightmare

Highlights: This does give us a pretty cool four-way fight between Robin, Guy, Isabella and Prince John, and Isabella’s defection to Team Isabella certainly shakes things up a bit. I will say one thing for series three: once Isabella was introduced, it didn’t muck around. 

Lowpoints: The outlaws are stuck in a superfluous B-plot, requiring them to make a trek across the countryside in search of water, a mission which ends up being insultingly pointless. You watch Joe Armstrong and can just TELL he’s bored to tears, especially after the juicy material he was getting in series two. They could have all just kicked up their heels in Locksley and it would have made absolutely no difference to how the plot is resolved.

It's so pointless in fact, that the writer wholesale lifts Special Snowflake Kate out of it and transports her to the A-plot, as part of the ongoing effort to make fetch happen. And once she’s there, she... does absolutely nothing but watch the more important characters through the bars of a prison cell.

"I'll just... wait here then."

At this point the writers have essentially invented a new kind of Character Shilling. Instead of (just) having the other characters talk incessantly about how great she is, they simply deposit Kate into the show’s most significant plotlines – where they STILL can’t find a way to make her relevant. In a way it’s genuinely fascinating watching them try so hard to convince us this random peasant girl is worth all the narrative time and energy that’s being spent on her.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Hey, did you know the River Trent is approximately the width and depth of a small ditch? And that if you want to dam its course, you just need to pile some rocks at its source? Which is located in the dungeons of Nottingham Castle?

One Little Piece of Trivia: Blooper time! Watch the rag around Robin’s neck during the scene in Locksley when Kate comes to bring him Isabella’s message. Depending on whether it’s a wide-shot or a close-up, it’ll either be wrapped around his hand or slung around his neck.

Around neck

Around hand

Back around neck

Back around hand

25. Who Shot the Sheriff?

Sophomore episodes are always a bitch: the characters are still being established, there’s plenty of groundwork left to set up, and nobody (either in front of or behind the camera) is quite sure whether what they’re doing is working. Most of the available time, attention and budget has been given over to the pilot episode(s) which means that the second instalment of any show has more to do with place-setting and trying to find a specific tone. Any sophomore episode has a lot of narrative work to do, but more often than not it’s brushed over by the showrunners.

In this case, a murder mystery isn’t a bad idea. The problem is, the culprit is obvious from the very first scene, and red herrings like De Fourtnay and the Nightwatchman aren’t particularly compelling. It does introduce an internal conflict within Robin (is he doing all this for love or for glory?) but this ends up being a character flaw that never really gets resolved or explored in any way.

Highlights: It’s a good Marian episode that establishes quite a lot about her: that she’s at loggerheads with her father, that she has to play dumb around Gisborne, and that she can only really vent her frustrations to Robin. She even gets a lovely scene with Joe Lacey at the window.

Lowpoints: I’m not a huge fan of the Nightwatchman, and in hindsight it does feel like a very noughties-era attempt to inject some trite girl-power into the proceedings instead of using the perfectly serviceable device of Marian-as-a-spy among the nobles, which required just as much intelligence and stealth. But back then every female character needed to be a secret ninja vigilante that did backflips in order to be considered one of those Strong Female Characters™ that executive boardrooms insisted on.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Those stupid dog-tags! Why on earth would you give your fugitive men a distinctive piece of apparel that will instantly identify them as outlaws, and then tell your antagonist what they are and what they mean??

One Little Piece of Trivia: I have nothing to back this up, but I’m extremely certain that this entire episode was reversed-engineered by a writer who was desperate to have the lines: “I shot the sheriff!”/“No, you shot the deputy!” somewhere in the script.

24. Parenthood

This is an odd episode in that there’s plenty of solid character work, but the plot is profoundly messy, not to mention divided over two largely unrelated subplots. The focus of the action keeps changing, from stealing the horses to looking after the baby, to mounting a rescue mission for Roy to Roy’s moral conundrum when his mother is taken hostage, to shooting food over the walls of Clun and Marian facing the consequences of this, to mounting a second rescue mission for Roy’s mother – look show, just pick one of these storylines and flesh it out properly.

There’s an odd choppiness to the proceedings: Robin and Roy leave the outlaws to find the baby’s mother, get waylaid on the way, and are then almost immediately rejoined by the other outlaws. Why bother splitting them up in the first place? Robin intervenes when some soldiers get a little too aggressive with Marian, then forgets all about them while he’s merrily shooting food over the walls a few minutes later – at which point they gallop up and SHOOT HIM.

But there are some good character interactions here, particularly between Robin and Marian – he wants to be back in her good graces, she’s not ready to budge an inch, and neither one has any idea how to behave naturally around the other – so it’s all just glib flirting on one side and cold contempt on the other. Anything to hide what they’re really feeling. 

Highlights: Roy gets his Death in the Limelight episode, and the character is remembered forever as the show’s first fatality (just kidding, he’s never mentioned again). At least he gets to go out with a dramatic death scene that’s somehow better than far more established characters will receive later on in the show’s run.

Lowpoints: For an episode that’s almost entirely predicated on Guy ditching his bastard child, he’s barely in this episode. I think he gets maybe five lines, and no examination whatsoever is given to what’s going on in his head, his motivation in abandoning his own kid in the woods, or the nature of his relationship with Annie. I’m usually staunchly against rewriting canon to exonerate the shitty behaviour of fandom favourites, but in this case, I can’t really blame the Guy fangirls for pretending this one never happened. It doesn’t make much sense as-is.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Was Marian ever told that the baby was Gisborne’s? Because I feel like that’s pertinent information she really should have been told.

One Little Piece of Trivia: For those keeping track, this is the first episode that passes the Bechdel Test, first when Marian speaks with the young woman in Clun, and then at the end when she tells Annie she’s found a position for her with Lady Rocheford.

The “okay, there’s definitely potential here even if it’s not hitting its mark” tier...

23. Treasure of the Nation

The problem with this episode is an issue I constantly come across in the latter half of season two – none of it is going anywhere. The arrival of Queen Eleanor feels like it should be a big deal, but then she’s never seen again. So what was the point of her introduction? At this stage the season seemed to be spinning its wheels, and I wonder if that’s part of the reason Marian was killed off at its conclusion – they couldn’t figure out how to move their story forward, and so dropped a nuclear bomb on it instead. And then STILL couldn’t figure out how to move their story forward.

Likewise, the logistics of the treasure hunt make no sense whatsoever, and though all the stuff with Gisborne finding out Marian is the Nightwatchman feels like a big deal, it is similarly rather pointless in hindsight. And of course, the two plots also have absolutely nothing to do with one another, not even thematically.

Highlights: It may fall apart under the slightest bit of scrutiny, but it’s still fun while it lasts. The outlaws go racing off around the countryside on a giant treasure hunt, and Team Castle proves itself surprisingly effective when Gisborne and Allan work together to save Marian’s life. Oh, what could have been...

Lowpoints: Gisborne/Marian shippers probably would have ranked this one higher, but to me their storyline in this episode feels excessively cruel and mean-spirited. In the context of the season, none of what happens between them is leading to his redemption or a change of heart, but rather to make him even more obsessed with her, setting up his frame of mind for how he can murder her three episodes later.

And if you’re paying attention, it’s easy to see the red flags in their final scene together: Gisborne makes himself the victim, forbids her from ever being the Nightwatchman again, and exerts a level of emotional blackmail over her by making her feel like she owes him something. (And shippers are okay with all of this?).

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: The moment you consider anything about the treasure hunt, it all falls apart. Let me just recap with the information at hand: Queen Eleanor was invited to Pontefract Castle in West Yorkshire for Christmas by her son Prince John, only to realize it was a trap to imprison her, at which point she (somehow!) secretly escaped and took shelter in a small church near Nottingham. From here, she (somehow!) sent a message all the way to the Holy Land to inform King Richard of the danger she’s in.

King Richard sends back a warrior called Legrand, who is tasked with finding Robin Hood and the location of his mother (though he is apparently not told that what he’s looking for is Eleanor, instead she’s obliquely referred to as “the treasure of the nation”). To do this, Legrand is given one half of a map, and is told the other half is in the keeping of a man called Paxton, who he will be able to identify via a secret codeword that only they know. By combining the two maps and following the clues upon them, Legrand, Robin and Paxton will then be able to find the church and escort Eleanor to the safety of Aquitaine.

We are given absolutely no indication whatsoever of who on earth drew these maps, who organized Paxton and the codewords, who set up all the landmarks (which would have required familiarity with the terrain, were seemingly especially tailored to Robin’s archery skills, and involve all sorts of elaborate clues and booby traps) or why anyone thought any of this was necessary when all King Richard had to do was tell Legrand: “hey, my mother has taken sanctuary at this particular church, go find Robin of Locksley and help him get her to safety.” Did Richard come up with it all? If so, we have to assume that he and Eleanor had settled on the church as a sanctuary several years in advance, since how else would he be in possession of a map leading to her hiding place?

And the cherry on top is that after all this convoluted planning, the Sheriff just circumvents the whole thing and ambushes them anyway.

One Little Piece of Trivia: So with the exception of “We Are Robin Hood,” which gets its own special category, this ended up being the lowest ranked episode of season two. That surprised me actually, as I recalled liking it a lot when it first aired. Hindsight is 20/20.

22. Sisterhood

The second season premiere of any show has a range of tasks to achieve: reintroduce the characters, heighten the stakes, set up new storylines, and hopefully build on the season that came before it rather than just resetting the board. For the most part, the episode delivers. Stakes raised, check – the Sheriff is amassing the Black Knights. Payoff from last season, check – Gisborne burns down Marian’s house as retribution for her living him at the altar. Solid character work, check – Team Castle lays a trap for Robin that’s contingent on his hero complex.

It also provides a better reason as to why Robin doesn’t just shoot the Sheriff and have done with it: Prince John has taken out some “life insurance,” so that if he’s ever found dead for any reason, Nottingham will be raised to the ground. 

Series two certainly hit the ground running.

Highlights: There’s a lot of good stuff here! This is the beginning of Allan’s betrayal arc, in which he’s caught and tortured by Gisborne, and ultimately decides to become a spy for him in Robin’s camp. Stretched out across the course of series two, it contains some of the best dramatic material this show ever had.

The Black Knights pose a credible threat, the Robin/Marian relationship is given some forward momentum (they’re officially an item, but she has to remain in Nottingham as a spy), and the scene in which Gisborne decides to torch Knighton Hall is the most threatening he’s ever been (so far).

Lowpoints: Unfortunately, the good stuff is let down by the most ridiculous guest star this show has ever had. I’m of course talking about the Sheriff’s hitherto unmentioned sister Davina, who has never been heard of before this episode, and after she dies, never talked about again, even though they try to make her death a “Now It’s Personal!” turning point for the Sheriff.

Although perhaps that’s just as well, for as much as I enjoy a bit of camp, she was absurd even by the standards of this show: a whip-cracking, leather-corset wearing dominatrix who carts around a box of snakes that she refers to as her “babies” and which she uses to torture people. She’s second only to the lycra-clad Saracen assassins in terms of sheer silliness, and is an incongruous addition to what’s otherwise a fairly serious episode.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing:

I just can’t with this. She’s not a character, she’s a cartoon. The show can do high camp and silly guest stars (Prince John, Count Friedrich) while still maintaining its admittedly fluid tone, but Davina was just too much.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Did Davina at least look a little familiar to you? That’s because Sara Stewart played Bruce Wayne’s mother Martha in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins.

20/21. Will You Tolerate This? and Sheriff Got Your Tongue?

I cannot for the life of me separate these episodes in my head, so I’ll rank them together. As pilot episodes go, these do what they’re meant to: introduce the characters, establish what motivates them, and set up all the core dynamics – even if the plot, tone, editing, costuming and anachronisms are mildly insane.

But something pulls you in nonetheless and it’s in the quiet moments that the actors shine: the scenes in which they’re allowed to emote and react and convey who they are with only glances or body language. Everyone gets a solid Character Establishing Moment: Much’s tears in the bath, Allan’s ever-changing dialects, Marian scrunching up her sleeve in frustration, the Sheriff gesturing for more wine while tongues are being cut out... this show was carried by the talent of its cast, and when they started throwing that talent under the bus, the quality of the show went with them.

Highlights: There are some surprisingly clever bits, though it takes a while to realize that they are clever: Edward and Marian feigning hostility toward Robin to protect him, Robin setting up the ruse with Not!Friar Tuck to save the prisoners before reverting to Plan B, and the plan for Roy to disguise himself as a soldier and play dead in order to convince the Sheriff that Robin is prepared to kill if need-be.

Though we never learn much about their courtship prior to the start of the show, you can feel the history between Robin and Marian, but I’ll always contest the fact that Robin’s first meeting with Little John didn’t involve a fight on a bridge with quarter staffs.

Lowpoints: The bizarre scene at the draper’s, which involves a house with no walls, a man who looks the same age as his daughter, and a girl who has visibly dark roots, way too much mascara, and starts making out with Robin for no other reason but that they needed to establish him as a stud.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: I suppose it would be easy to point at the laboured allusions to the War on Terror (which were phased out entirely by series three) as a clumsy attempt at “relevance,” but at least they were unique to the show and an attempt to put a fresh spin on the traditional legends for a contemporary audience. The real issue is that these episodes featured some truly insane zoom-ins and choppy editing, which really do have to be seen to be believed:

That footage was not tampered with in any way. I watched these episodes with a newbie, and he told me afterwards that he honestly thought the characters were about to start time-travelling or that someone was having a seizure.

One Little Piece of Trivia: The montage at the end, which features the outlaws bringing food and coin to their loved ones, depicts Forrest’s wife, played by an actress who went on to play Beatrice in series two.

19. A Good Day to Die

As the penultimate episode of series two, it’s technically not bad in itself... but because it takes us straight into the season finale, it probably would have ranked higher if it hadn’t been the precursor to the bomb that destroyed the show.

Highlights: Locking half your cast in a small space and forcing them to talk about their feelings is every fan-ficcer’s dream, and the tension of being under siege with enemy mercenaries outside is handled well. My only complaint is that the issues raised between the outlaws are completely forgotten about by the very next episode.

Lowpoints: So, remember all that fuss over the Pact of Nottingham? It was established in “For England!,” Sir Edward died to secure it in “Show Me The Money,” and the Sheriff spent all of “Walkabout” trying to regain possession of it. Important, right? Well, forget about it – no one’s going to mention it again. Despite an entire series of building up the threat of the Black Knights, writer Dominic Mingella is going to throw all that away in favour of the Sheriff just heading over to the Holy Land and assassinating the King himself. You know, like the last time, prior to the start of the show. And it will fail just as spectacularly this time as it did back then.

What a truly bizarre creative decision. What was the point of anything we watched this season?

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: It’s not enough that they kill off Marian, not enough that she dies in a highly sexualized way which the writers then brag as being “the consummation” between her and her killer, not enough that she dies in a foreign land and buried in an unmarked pauper’s grave, not even that she’s barely mentioned after her death – it’s that she’s forced to behave like a complete imbecile in order for it to happen.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Marian decides the Sheriff is planning to assassinate the king, and that she therefore has to actually murder him to prevent this from happening. Never mind that King Richard is still in the Holy Land (which means she’s got plenty of time to deal with this) or that a couple of episodes ago she faced the consequences of what happens when Prince John doesn’t receive word that the Sheriff is alive and well – no, she immediately panics on not being able to find Robin and comes up with the amazing plan to sneak up on him with a sword.

This is her plan

Our heroine, committing cold-blooded murder to prevent something from happening in the distant future that she’s only guessing at. What in the actual hell is going on?

It’s only matched by the fact that on realizing she’s just tried to kill him, the Sheriff responds by (I still can’t actually believe this) taking Marian with him on the mission, giving her ample opportunity to thwart his plans and work on his right-hand man, who he knows full-well is obsessed with her. I just... why? Why would anyone do this??

If you need to make your characters act this stupid in order to get your plot to work, it should be taken as a strong indicator that your plot isn’t actually working.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Sixteen episodes ago, Djaq rescued a ledger containing the formula for Greek fire out of the campfire, a Chekhov’s Gun that finally goes off in this episode. Better late than never I suppose, though I’ll always be irritated that she didn’t get the honour of blowing up Nottingham Castle.

18. Something Worth Fighting For Part II

Series three was mostly excrement, but at least the show managed to go out on a relative high. Perhaps this episode even deserved to be ranked a bit higher, as it does pull out all the stops for a memorable finale (the stakes are raised, the characters are well-utilized, the castle blows up) – but we still have to judge it within the context of the third series. Archer is still a thing that exists, Kate is still alive, and in hindsight, really crappy endings were doled out to everyone who wasn’t Robin Hood.

It stands at #18 solely because it does manage to hit the most important emotional beats, as well as carrying the weight of being the last episode ever. The siege is well choreographed, as is the nighttime raid on the trebuchets, the confrontation in the underground tunnel, and the last desperate evacuation before everything is blown to kingdom come. This is how I would have chosen Robin’s demise, as well as Guy’s and the Sheriff’s.

Isabella gets the honour of sealing Robin’s doom (good for her!), Guy’s death is as honourable as he deserves (his final act is trying to save Robin, but he dies via a sword to the gut, exactly how he killed Marian) and all the remaining outlaws are given a chance to shine: Archer saves his half-brothers, Tuck works out the explosives, Little John removes the grating from the escape tunnel, and Much leads the troops and finally gets some validation from Robin. Even Kate isn’t that bad (though she manages to squeeze in one last hostage crisis before the end).

Highlights: Deep down I think everyone knew this was going to be the very last episode, so it hits all the necessary marks for a Grand Finale: a final stand, a heroic sacrifice, and one last flaming arrow. The action works pretty well, the logistics of the battle are surprisingly sound, and we get one last stirring speech from Robin on the steps of Nottingham Castle (say what you will, but Jonas Armstrong is very good at selling these).

And of course, a return appearance from Lucy Griffiths as Marian, which goes a LONG way in terms of an apology for what they did to her at the end of series two.

Lowpoints: It’s only in comparison to what the show might have been and how it could have ended that makes this episode look less shiny in comparison. Imagine if Will and Djaq had still been around (I maintain that she should have been the one to blow up the castle). Imagine if Allan hadn’t been killed off in such an awful way and been allowed to prove himself by fighting alongside the others. Heck, imagine this entire season if Marian had lived, with the whole thing ending on a forest wedding instead of another burial.

Suffice to say, I had four favourite characters across the course of this show: Marian, Allan, Will and Djaq, and all of them were treated like garbage by the narrative.

But at least Guy of Gisborne gets his redemption, and it only took four dead women for him to achieve it. 

Thank you for your service, ladies. He couldn’t have done it without your lifeless bodies to use as stepping stones for his internal growth. I too hope that one day my corpse will inspire a man to feel really bad, and then better, about himself.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: So we get a look at that escape tunnel the Sheriff had constructed after his failure in the Holy Land (which is somehow different than all the other escape routes in and out of the castle that the outlaws have been exploiting since day one) and ... well, just look at it.

This thing is as spacious as a holiday home! Those are windows! Who the heck built this??

One Little Piece of Trivia: By this point the ratings and reputation of the show had fallen so far that this episode’s original airdate on the BBC was pulled in order to broadcast the tennis, with no prior warning to viewers. The episode aired properly a week later.

17. The Taxman Cometh

This was another episode that was neck-and-neck with its competition, and although it had a better plot than “Booby and the Beast,” I think I enjoyed that one more, if not just for the German Count.

In saying that, this episode was a lot better than I initially gave it credit for, with the central twist (the Abbess is not part of a subplot at all, but the mastermind behind the con-artists’ heist) nicely tying all the threads of the story together. Marian gets a strong arc, in which she attempts to escape her life by becoming a novice, while the Sheriff faces off against the Abbess in some great scenes. Basically, lots of fun interactions between various characters, with some solid character work done at the same time.

Even little moments tell us a lot, like Guy’s veneration toward a woman of the church, or Edward agreeing to Marian’s terms even if he knew by that point she couldn’t join the non-existent convent.

Highlights: Nikki Amuka-Bird as the Abbess is one of the show’s best guest stars, and it’s a damn shame she never returned in some capacity. I could easily see Robin enlisting her for help in pulling off a greater and more intricate heist, perhaps after catching her once again impersonating a nun. And since she was clearly the leader of her little gang, she worked as an interesting foil to our hero: alike in a lot of ways, but with more self-serving motivation.

Lowpoints: The outlaws aren’t given all that much to do (Much frets, Allan complains, Will comes up with another contrived escape, and Djaq is left behind on guard duty). Also, the episode never bothered to give the Abbess a name, which is bad form for such a great character. I always head-canoned her as Ursula. She looked like an Ursula.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Putting Marian in a yellow cardigan that is a crime against nature, fashion, eyeballs and taste. Even by the standards of this show, it looks awful.

One Little Piece of Trivia: When Edward is scolding Marian about being the Nightwatchman, he erroneously calls her “Knight Rider,” which has to be a shout-out to the car and TV series of the same name, right?

16. Booby and the Beast

It’s hard to rank an episode that has some great character work (and one of the show’s best guest stars) in a plot that is beyond stupid. To gauge this episode is to balance the charm of Dexter Fletcher against the following premise: the Sheriff wants to get his hands on more funds and so invites a Count all the way from Bavaria to visit a backwater shire in England in order to play in a casino that’s rigged against him in the hopes of cheating him out of the considerable fortune that he’s brought along with him. And he just… agrees to this? Surely there must have been an easier way for both parties.

Highlights: In compensation for this insanity, we get Count Friedrich of Bavaria, who almost single-handedly takes this episode from a nonsensical mess to a fun romp. Truly one of my favourite guest stars, and I’m sorry the show didn’t expedite the hostage-taking of Richard in Austria, which could have justified the character’s return if the outlaws needed a safe place to stay on their way to pay the ransom/escort the king home. 

Also, we get to see Djaq in a dress for the first (and only) time.

Lowpoints: Gisborne has the strongroom workers killed after it becomes apparent that Robin knows about its existence. The truth is, the information came from Marian, which means the men were slaughtered for no reason. Are Robin and Marian crippled with guilt, horrified by the massacre and resolved to find another way to pass on intel without such horrific collateral damage being inflicted on innocent people? Er, no. Aside from pledging the stolen money to the widows of the dead men, they really don’t give a shit.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: I’m actually prepared to let the casino go, but I haven’t yet mentioned the brand-new strongroom that’s been built by unpaid labourers who somehow managed to rig up a holographic image of a treasure chest, weight-triggered flagstones, a revolving floor mechanism, and… a trapdoor that leads to hell? 

Oh, and then the Sheriff forgets to post guards on this room, even though he knew Robin would have been desperate to break in. This is mental, even by the standards of THIS show.

One Little Piece of Trivia: This is neither here nor there, but in lieu of me being able to pull any trivia from the episode itself, I’ll have you know that I prefer to ship Marian with Friedrich over Gisborne OR Robin. They were extremely cute together.

The “ah, now that’s the good stuff” tier...

15. Lardner’s Ring

There is an awful lot of stupid in this episode, from Allan losing a fight to a one-legged man, to Robin and Marian somehow remaining completely concealed while hiding in a tree, to Djaq believing that Will was captured and not saying anything about it... but there’s also some interesting ambivalence from Allan, screentime for Will and Djaq, and plenty of fun banter between Robin and Marian. Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t mind Robin’s proposal (though the locale was questionable) as his intent is clear despite the muddled bow analogy. It’s still better than a certain someone else’s pitch: “marry me or die.”

It’s an episode that probably would have ranked higher if it had led to good things, but instead it feels like the beginning of the end when it comes to the show’s imminent self-destruction. In hindsight, Marian choosing to leave the forest was a fatal mistake, Lardner never achieves his goal of getting King Richard to return to England, and even Marian’s comment to Robin: “if you die then my father died for nothing,” turns out to be a wet squib. The writers forget all about the Pact of Nottingham by the end of the season – so Edward did, in fact, die for nothing.

Highlights: Allan gets a great little subplot in which he’s clearly hesitant about attacking Robin and Marian in the forest, then helping to facilitate Will’s escape after he and the Fool are captured by castle guards. Djaq is also utilized well, as the only one who understands exactly what Lardner is and how he can be used to advance their cause.

Lowpoints: The fact that this episode once more revolves around trying to get word to King Richard (their first attempt was Roger of Stoke, then Carter, now Lardner) makes it feel like the writers are spinning their wheels – especially since the whole show ends with Richard STILL having not returned to England.

And this episode will always be stained by the fact Marian makes a terrible choice: she goes back to the castle instead of staying in the forest; a decision that will lead directly to her death; one she ostensibly makes because she believes she’s more useful as a spy in the castle, though none of the remaining episodes will utilize her in this role at all. The whole episode ends on a sour note, because she’ll pay for this decision with her life.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: For a Djaq-heavy episode, it’s a shame there’s no indication as to whether Will ever told her what Allan did to secure his safety. And what on earth was going on when Will returns to camp and she tells him: “I thought you’d been captured.” Really, girl? And you didn’t bother to TELL anyone this??

Also, we never get a clear answer as to how or why the one-legged messenger had possession of Lardner in the first place. Djaq expresses the fear that Saladin has been captured and his pigeons seized, but this is never elaborated on in any later episodes. Why raise these points if you’re never going to resolve them?

One Little Piece of Trivia: Giving the pigeon the name Lardner – and the episode title “Lardner’s Ring” – is a direct shout out to blacklisted screenwriter Ring Lardner Jr, the last remaining member of the Hollywood Ten who was a frequent contributor to episodes of The Adventures of Robin Hood in the 1950s.

14. Do You Love Me?

Behold, the highest-ranked episode of series three, and the only one to crack this tier. I place it here through gritted teeth, but the truth is it’s the standout episode of the third series: Toby Stephens makes his grand debut as the long-awaited Prince John, Gisborne and the Sheriff finally reach a fatal confrontation with one another, and Isabella may or may not be playing both sides in a game of her own.

Robin and the outlaws are also given decent material for a change: their goal is not just to steal treasure, but more importantly, to undermine Prince John in public. It’s a neat variation on what they usually get up to, and not even Kate is that annoying – not in the sense that her contribution to the plot makes any sense, but at least she’s not an active liability for a change (just a passive one). 

Plus, we get to see her take a dagger to the gut approximately four seconds after she leaps into battle for the first time, and no one even notices for a while. That’s just funny.

Heh heh

Highpoints: Toby Stephens as Prince John, one of the few reasons to even bother with series three. He shakes up the already-strained dynamic between the Sheriff and Gisborne, leading to the balance of power finally shifting from the former to the latter (only for Gisborne to soon discover he’s just traded in one abusive boss for another). Then there’s Isabella as the show’s wildcard, quietly taking stock of the power-plays happening around her and deciding where she wants to end up. Team Castle is on fire in this episode.

Lowpoints: Well, it’s good… but it’s still a season three episode. The truth is, I’d rather rewatch any of the worst season one or two episodes than a relatively good third season episode that doesn’t have any of my favourite characters in it. So make no mistake, I place this at #14 very begrudgingly.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Kate decides that she should be the outlaw who plays the part of the scrofula victim, her rationalization being: “I already look half-dead.” BUT THEN Tuck gives her a potion to drink that makes boils and sores well up all over her face… so the fact that she doesn’t look great thanks to the stomach wound that almost killed her earlier in the day really makes no difference at all. They’re sending an injured, untrained woman on a dangerous undercover mission with no justification whatsoever.

I mean, if they wanted to give a sensible reason as to why Kate got this super-special, very-important, only-she-can-do-it mission, then surely a better excuse would have been: “I’m new to the group, so there’s less likelihood that I’ll be recognized.” But as ever, the writers try SO HARD to make her relevant, and it never, ever works.

One Little Piece of Trivia: All that stuff about scrofula and the healing hands of a rightful king that forms the underlying premise of this episode’s plot? Has a real basis in medieval beliefs.

Also, Tuck uses a blow gun in battle, which I find inordinately amusing for some reason.

13. Child Hood

This might well be the Most Surprising Episode in terms of the ranking system, as it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I remembered it. Every time a show decides to introduce a gang of ragtag Brats with Slingshots, it’s time to heave a huge sigh of annoyance – but in this case, they really weren’t as irritating as they could have been.

In fact, when it comes to these stock characters, the show does a lot of things right for a change. The child actors can actually act, they’re helpful to the outlaws but not to a silly degree, there’s a logical backstory that connects them to the established characters (one was a stable boy at Knighton), and one even gets his own little arc – Daniel feels ashamed of leaving his friends behind after they’re attacked by Nottingham soldiers, and tries to make amends for it.

Of course, it’s rather amusing that two of the boys don’t get names or lines, and who knows what the outlaws were thinking when they give them honorary dog-tags (you guys remember Allan’s brother was hanged for that, right guys?) but it’s a little sad the idea of them becoming Robin’s eyes and ears in the community was never revisited. I guess those little actors had to go back to school.

Highpoints: For better (Matilda) or worse (Davina), episodes are usually dominated by their guest stars, either because they’re the most memorable part of the story or because the plot hinges on their involvement – so in this case, it’s nice to have some that merely supplement the narrative instead of taking over it. Most of the episode is devoted to the advancement of the overarching plot: Marian tries to reconcile with Gisborne, Allan tests the waters of how much he’s able to get away with when it comes to selling Robin’s secrets, and there are some very cute little moments throughout (like Allan and Djaq sharing an amused glance at each other when Daniel tells Much to “shush.”)

Marian arrives rather late into the story, but ends up dominating it. She handles the final confrontation very well, neatly making sure Guy owes her his life while also ensuring that a dangerous weapon is destroyed. But of course, there are consequences: her father is punished in her place.

But it demonstrates that no one really knows what she’s going to do next: not the Sheriff, not Gisborne, and certainly not Robin. The audience could make educated guesses about what she was capable of, but to everyone else, she was a complete wildcard. Sigh. She really was the show’s most interesting character, largely due to the no-win consequences of whatever situation she found herself in, and her having to negotiate the currents of that.

Lowpoints: Um... I can’t really think of any. That’s rather shocking, and shouldn’t it mean that the episode should be ranked much higher than it is? Not really, as even though there’s nothing glaringly wrong with it, there’s nothing that elevates it beyond just being a solid offering.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: At this point it’s an established show tradition that each episode contain one completely preposterous element, and this one goes to that suit of armour. Oof. Did it really have to look QUITE that stupid, especially with Guy lumbering all over the place in it?

One Little Piece of Trivia: Every season had one Parents for a Day episode, in which the outlaws have to look after a child or infant, and this one is the second series (and the best of the three).

Also, Daniel gets points with me when he identifies Djaq as “the Saracen” and not “the girl”. Let’s be honest, if this episode had taken place next season, that would be the only appellation which could possibly be ascribed to our outlaw Smurfette.

Finally, I’ve been watching this show somewhat ironically with a friend, and according to him: “this has been the best written one yet”, so I have to give it credit in that respect. It had some interesting power-plays, and the kids weren’t anywhere near as irritating as I recalled.

11/12. The Return of the King and A Clue: No

With reports of King Richard’s return to England, it’s doomsday for Marian, who now has to make good on her promise that she’ll marry Guy of Gisborne. Thankfully, it’s not actually King Richard that’s come to Nottingham but an impersonator, hired by the Sheriff to help him flush out those plotting against him.

Yeah, it’s another pretty deranged scheme, but it forms the basis of the first season’s two-parter finale: the outlaws scrambling to find out the truth while Marian is mortally wounded during her “last hurrah” as the Nightwatchman.

Highlights: This is easily the best season finale of show in its entirety, with personal and political stakes, something for all the characters to do, and a plot that isn’t quite as patchy as they usually are. Plus, the scene of all the outlaws hiding in Marian’s bedroom is a lot of fun:

Lowpoints: One of my most hated tropes is Cheated Death, Died Anyway. When you wring drama and pathos out of a character’s near-death, you can only do it once. A second time, the audience’s emotions are not only spent, but it renders the first experience a Hope Spot that’s hideously cruel in retrospect. Furthermore, the actors have already expunged their best performance on the initial loss, leaving them bereft of any new type of reaction to bring to the table the second time around (it’s not a coincidence that Jonas Armstrong’s reactions to Marian’s “death” in these episodes are more effective to those of the series two finale).

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Marian essentially dies of a stab wound to her abdomen and the next day she’s running around unimpeded. Par for the course with this show, but honestly.

One Little Piece of Trivia: This is not the first time Richard Armitage has been unconvincingly punched out at the altar:

10. Get Carter!

This episode is usually near the top of most Robin Hood lists of this nature, but I have to confess, I’m not a huge fan. There’s nothing wrong with it; in fact, the plot is surprisingly coherent, but I can’t say I’m as enamoured of Carter as the rest of fandom seems to be, and I’m always disgruntled that everyone is focused on helping HIM instead of the obviously distraught, grieving and acting-out Marian. Seriously, an entire episode could have been devoted solely to how she finds her feet amongst the other outlaws, and instead it’s relegated to a mere subplot (and is reversed by the very next episode anyway, in which she goes back to the castle).

I also have a theory that the writers on this show were big fans of Spooks, which was airing at the same time (and which gained at least two significant Robin Hood cast members at the tail-end of its run), as this very much plays out like an episode of that show. Just the concept of a hired mercenary being turned into an asset by the good guys after they discover his emotional weak-point and using it against the people who sent him after them in the first place feels very much like something the team at MI-5 would do.

Highlights: I suppose I’ll have to say Carter, since he made such an impression on fandom, and is one of the very few guest stars to make a return appearance (only Thornton, Dan Scarlett, Alice Little and Sir Jasper can boast likewise). He brings out some interesting dynamics among the rest of the gang, and I’m very fond of the sweet moment between Little John and Marian, in which he gives her a bear hug and tells her precisely what she needs to hear (though why this scene went to Little John and not Robin is a bit of a mystery).

Lowpoints: Look, I don’t mind that Robin and Marian butt heads once they’re finally in the same space. Robin is used to giving orders and having them followed. Marian is used to going it alone and doesn’t like being told what to do, plus is still grieving the loss of her father. They’re both extremely bull-headed people who were inevitably going to struggle at first. But having raised these issues, the writers then just brush them under the rug rather than building a multi-episode arc out of their relationship troubles.

To this day, I find it bewildering that Robin is able to demonstrate more empathy and compassion towards the guest star than to the woman he wants to marry, and it’s a serious failing on the writers’ behalf. I ship Robin and Marian in the sense that a. they’re a legendary Super Couple, and b. no matter how much of a douche Robin can be, he’s still a better choice for Marian than the guy who murdered her, but watching this episode leaves me with the impression that the pair of them just aren’t compatible on a cellular level.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Carter gets injured and Robin makes the call to take him back to the encampment for treatment. Nice going, eejit.

One Little Piece of Trivia: I’ve mentioned this feels like a template of your average Spooks episode was superimposed over a Robin Hood episode, but the more obvious nod is to Michael Caine’s Get Carter.

9. A Thing or Two About Loyalty

This is one of those episodes where the plot doesn’t make much sense and ultimately doesn’t have any impact on the bigger picture, but which is instead carried entirely by intriguing character dynamics. As is often the case in the early episodes of the show, it contains two distinct subplots that don’t mesh together very well. Often the writers will try to have these dual plots connect by the very end, but in this case the exact opposite happens: they start in the same place (with Much letting himself get arrested in a bid to contact Lambert) only to finish leagues apart (Much ends up in Bonchurch in an unrelated storyline and Lambert – well, dies).

Using Lambert as the narrative fulcrum through which Robin and Gisborne are linked, with Marian willing to work with either one of them just to save a good man’s life (and tiptoe around their egos) is an interesting premise, but the Sheriff’s plan to use the carrot over the stick is merely an Excuse Plot to get Much into Bonchurch, and not anything that Vaizey would ever logically choose to do.

But to Bonchurch Much goes, to enjoy his Day In The Limelight character-centric episode that all the original outlaws got at one point or another. And simply being himself and looking after his people is what wins the day, along with winning over the would-be spy with his sincerity. The episode is a glimpse of Much without Robin and it suits him.

In short, I’ll admit “Get Carter!” has the better plot, but I prefer Eve to Carter, so this episode gets the higher ranking of the two.

Highlights: Eve of course, who along with Matilda and Friedrich (and Carter I guess) was one of the show’s greatest guest stars. In a world where this show knew what it was doing, she would have returned in series three instead of Kate in order to supplement the obvious arc that Much should have taken: to set himself apart from Robin and become his own man. Alas, the writers lost interest in that, and though this was the first step for that particular character development, it never really advanced from here.

Also, Eve was interesting in and of herself. I can easily imagine her using more devious methods to assist the more open-hearted Much and standing up against Robin in defense of his long-suffering manservant. Seriously, just imagine series three with Eve and not Kate, and the ripple effect that could have created.

Lowpoints: Lambert really needed to be a more established character if we were going to be moved by his death – perhaps if they’d established his friendship with Gisborne and his experiments with Greek fire a few episodes prior to this one it would have landed better. That Lambert becomes one of the few people Robin cannot save is sad, but you only need to compare the fallout with what happens to Allan’s brother Tom to feel the difference in emotional stakes.

Also, Greek fire will become a relatively big part of the show after this, and they completely drop the ball on what’s set up here. Sure, Djaq is seen pulling the ledger out of the fire, and she utilizes what’s inside it to save the outlaws all the way in the penultimate episode of series two. But I wonder if even at this early point they had an inkling that the show would end with the destruction of Nottingham Castle – in which case, it still irks me that Tuck and not Djaq got that particular task to achieve. That should have been her kill, dammit!

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Between the dodgy greenscreen and Richard Armitage’s Big No in slow-motion, that was not a particularly effective explosion.

One Little Piece of Trivia: The actress who played Eve (Kelly Adams) went on to star in Hustle as a cast regular. One episode had her reunite with an ex-boyfriend... who was played by Joe Armstrong (Allan-a-Dale). Much would be appalled.

8. Tattoo, What Tattoo?

In an astounding bit of continuity, this episode reveals that Gisborne’s odd comment to Robin in the pilot episode (“I have seen you fight”) and Robin’s nightmare about the attempted assassination of King Richard in “Parenthood” actually has payoff: it turns out that the reason Robin returned prematurely from the Holy Land was because of his injuries sustained during this attack, and that Gisborne himself was the would-be assassin.

It's also the first episode following Marian’s forced acceptance of Gisborne’s marriage proposal, and as tedious as the dick-measuring between the two men is, she gets herself a good episode: her awkwardness as Gisborne announces their engagement, her irritation at Robin’s needling, and her crocodile tears in front of the Sheriff for the sake of successful a hostage exchange.

Finally, it’s Djaq’s A Day in the Limelight episode – the first and last time she’s really spotlighted as a character. I loved the silent exchange between herself and Marian as she’s carted off by the Sheriff’s men, each knowing full-well who the other is and their connection to Robin.

Highlights: There’s a chance that my favourite scene in the entire show is Marian and the Sheriff going head-to-head over Gisborne’s disappearance and Marian attempting to negotiate an exchange of hostages, first by playing on the feelings she assumes he has about his second-in-command (“are we talking about the same Guy? I mean, I barely noticed he was missing”) and on realizing it’s a no-go, changing tactics and pretending to get emotional for the sake of her husband-to-be. Well played, Marian.

And of course, the moment in which Allan and Will blurt out their feelings for Djaq. Will says more than what he’s feeling and Allan feels more than what he’s saying, and everyone’s reactions are hilarious. It’s the moment that spawned a devoted shipper sub-movement for those that had no interest in the terminal Robin/Marian/Gisborne love triangle.

Lowpoints: It’s not that Robin threatens to torture and kill Gisborne, it’s that in hindsight, he really should have just gone through with it. In the long run, it would have saved Marian’s life, and all the justification about how they need Gisborne alive in order to confess to his attempted regicide is ultimately pointless, since this plot is all but forgotten about after series one.

And when you want to explore the dark, violent, morally ambiguous side of your hero, you don’t want your audience to walk away with the opinion that yeah, he really should have just murdered that guy.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: What the heck was up with the Transportation at the Speed of Plot in this episode? Look, I know that this is the LEAST of this show’s worries, but it was so glaringly noticeable, never more so than when the outlaws take off to rescue Djaq and Robin/Gisborne start fist-fighting all over the forest for the duration of the botched rescue mission AND the outlaws’ journey all the way back again.

One Little Piece of Trivia: I think fandom probably likes this episode more than I do, but it’s placement is so high due to the fact that it’s the show’s first “tentpole” episode – that is, a vitally important episode in the overarching plot (well, of the first series at least). The most indicative feature of this fact? There are no guest stars. Everything revolves around the regulars.

The “top-shelf, cream of the crop” tier...

7. For England

This one was better in my memory than it was during my most recent rewatch, and I suspect it’s because it’s placed between the two undisputable best episodes of season two, which allows it to coast a little on their energy. That, and it’s fun to see Denis Lawson (Wedge Antilles) in a guest-starring role.

It’s a solid part: a bad guy not because he’s one of the Sheriff’s toadies, but rather a man with his own agenda, a power base which allows him to make his own plans, and a figure that reveals how threatening the Black Knights really are. If they’re all anything like this one, then they’re as much a threat to the Sheriff as they are to King Richard (not that the show will ever do anything with this).

Highlights: Although the plot is pretty straightforward, and Marian is unfortunately rendered a damsel in distress by the final act (you’re telling me she can’t pick those handcuffs herself?) there’s far more interesting material when it comes to Allan, who initially goes to fetch his stash of money, discovers that the other outlaws have gotten to it first, and then heads off to Locksley to offer his services to Gisborne. It’s one thing to grab your ill-gotten earnings and get the heck out of dodge, another thing entirely to actively side with their enemy.

Lowpoints: There are some weird developments in this episode regarding Robin that never go anywhere. I’m all for him chucking out his “no-killing” policy in order to go full soldier-mode, but the writers act like he’s still operating under a moral framework, and never make him confront the possibility that he’s gone too far. He dresses up in black, decides to go on a suicide mission, commits a mass-murder, and everyone is meant to be okay with this? It’s not something that deserves to be discussed or examined in any way? Not even a little bit?

What could have been an interesting opportunity for our hero to stray into real darkness before getting pulled back onto the straight and narrow is just a thing that happens while he continues to hypocritically spout his “no killing” policy at other people.

This is also the episode in which Gisborne decides to start his pursuit of Marian again, and although he initially tries to get her out of harm’s way with no expectation of repayment, the Sheriff’s weird psychological hold over the man retains its grip, and Gisborne ultimately fails her. It’s the entire season in miniature, especially when looked at from the vantage point of the series two finale. 

As a result, it all feels like needless, pointless baiting. The writers aren’t setting up a redemption arc, but rather reestablishing Gisborne’s obsession with her, pushing him into the state of mind that’s required for him to murder her in the final episode (and then far from their assertion that this “was the point of no return,” redemption is handed to him on a silver platter anyway, over the body of yet another dead young woman… but I’m digressing).

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Marian is warned that she has to get out of the castle quickly and discreetly before Lord Winchester takes her into custody, as part of the deal he’s arranged with the Sheriff. In the scene directly following this warning, it appears Marian has changed into a bright red riding outfit, a perfect ensemble for remaining inconspicuous, and not at all a waste of precious time.

Subtle

One Little Piece of Trivia: This episode reveals that Marian’s mother was called Kate. I just... wow. I don’t know what to do with that.

6. Angel of Death

This one is a really good episode with strong characterization, lots of interesting plots, minimal silliness, and a fairly effective one-shot villain. It deals with a mystery and the plague and a vengeance story, and utilizes nearly all the characters very well, with the spotlight on Will Scarlett for the first time.

When the residents of Pitt Street become very ill, the Sheriff is quick to call a quarantine and to close off the area with no food or medicine. Smelling a rat (or at least wanting to help) the outlaws get themselves behind the barriers, with only one deciding to leave – Will, who has just watched his father murdered on the Sheriff’s orders after he speaks out against the quarantine.

Meanwhile, someone is impersonating the Nightwatchman, and Allan goes a step further in his betrayal of the outlaws by actively seeking out information to pass onto Gisborne.

Highlights: So many! The oft-wasted Harry Lloyd gets a chance to demonstrate his acting skills, and it’s a good episode for Marian too, who not only solves the mystery of who’s been impersonating her alter-ego but is even allowed to pass the Bechdel Test with a servant girl (as does Djaq with Jess’s mother). 

There’s also Allan’s little subplot, in which his intrigues cost an innocent man his life. Marian gets to disguise herself as a servant girl and parkour over the rooftops. Will finally gets a chance to demonstrate the famous “scarlet” rage of his character. The Sheriff’s nefarious plan actually makes sense for a change: to use the citizens of Nottingham as test subjects for Joseph’s poison before using it on the king’s army when he returns, only for him to discover that Joseph is a religious fanatic who has very different plans for its use. Gisborne wasn’t in this one much, but the scene in which he tries to enter Marian’s chambers was effective and chilling – much like the Big Bad Wolf threatening to huff and puff and blow down the door.

Lowpoints: I suppose it’s not the writer’s fault, but in the wake of the Covid epidemic, many aspects of this episode did NOT age well. Let’s see: a conspiracy to fake a plague so that a government employee can do secret experiments on the populace, the good guys breaking in and out of quarantine, and (in one particularly egregious scene) Much taking the perfectly reasonable safety measure of wearing a makeshift mask, only for Robin to pull it off his face in disgust. The anti-vaxxers would have wet themselves with glee over this stuff.

And this is more of a nitpick, but it bugged me that it was Little John and not Djaq who came up with the antidote to the poison. Yes, I realize that John gets precious little to do, but you can say the same about Djaq, and since she a. had access to Joseph’s medical journals, and b. is the team medic, it would have made more sense depict her studying the books and discovering the solution. Little John can still deliver the baby in the next episode – here it just feels like he’s stealing her thunder.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: I mean, FFS, the villain of the piece may as well have been wearing a sign on his forehead that said: “I am going to kill you all.” How do you not spot the clear ill-intentions of this guy?

Oh yeah, I trust him

One Little Piece of Trivia: Shoutout to Sean Murray who returns as Dan Scarlett (even if it’s just to get killed off) as one of the very few guest stars who reappeared across more than one season (they’ve switched out Luke for an older version though). The only other actor who can make that claim is Lee Ross, who played Sir Jasper in the tenth episode of series two, and the first episode of series three. 

5. Turk Flu

Roy is out and Djaq is in. The first four episodes of Robin Hood can best be described as being comprised of messy plots with solid characterization, but “Turk Flu” is when the show finally starts to get a handle on itself.

In fact, this episode is easy to compare with its immediate predecessor regarding each one’s use of dual subplots that eventually coincide – though in the cast of “Parenthood,” the story about Gisborne’s baby and the story about Roy being coerced into killing Robin had very little to do with one another, were comprised of subject matter too hefty for either to be done justice, and which got bogged down in a pointless detour to the quarantined Clun.

In contrast, “Turk Flu” has two subplots that intersect perfectly: one in which the Sheriff purchases Saracen slave labour to work the dangerous Treeton Mine, thereby smoothly introducing Djaq to the proceedings, and a second in which the murder of a miner at Gisborne’s hands spurs his son Rowan to enact vengeance – which ends up making Marian a target.

Generally speaking, I’ve always found that a sign of good writing is the logical exchange of information between characters. In this case, Rowan overhears Robin’s offhand comment about how Gisborne is wooing Marian, which Robin knows about since Allan saw her heading to the festival in Gisborne’s carriage earlier. This inspires Rowan to target Marian, something Djaq hears when he storms off to make good on this threat, which she then shares with the outlaws.

Likewise, Marian can talk Rowan down from killing her by reminding him of his deceased father – which she knows about because she was the Nightwatchman who brought him food earlier in the episode. In a show that would eventually have characters magically just know random facts because it was convenient to the plot, the transference of information is very elegantly and logically done here.

It’s an underrated episode, the show’s first genuinely solid offering, and my personal favourite. 

Highlights: This is one for the girls, with Djaq proving herself to the team on a number of levels, and Marian getting two killer scenes: first when she covers for the injury she sustained as the Nightwatchman by casually cutting into her own hand with a paring knife (and barely flinching) and then calmly talking Rowan down while being held at arrow-point before Robin gets the chance to leap in and save the day. And hey, the episode was written by a woman!

I’m not saying woman writers will absolutely guarantee good material for female characters, but this episode demonstrates it sure as hell doesn’t hurt.

Lowpoints: Of course, after establishing such a solid character premise with a strong introduction, the writers will henceforth do their very best to completely underutilize Djaq at every turn.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: In the wake of his father’s death, the bereaved Rowan talks with his mother about how grief-stricken he feels. Unfortunately, the woman playing his mother was either a Hungarian actress who couldn’t speak English, or an extra who wasn’t being paid to say lines, so we’re left with a scene in which Rowan emotes desperately to a woman who gives him nothing. 

One Little Piece of Trivia: This episode also finds room to incorporate the famous archery contest, complete with a silver arrow as first prize, which is a staple component of all the Robin Hood legends.

4. Walkabout

I’m under the impression that this is generally considered the best Robin Hood episode by most of fandom. And sure. I obviously don’t agree, since otherwise I would have put it at #1, but I can see why people would feel that way. First of all, it builds on a preestablished plot-point: to deter Robin Hood from ever outright killing the man, the Sheriff’s whereabouts must be accounted for by an appointed witness on a regular basis, or else Nottingham will be razed to the ground. It’s a form of life insurance that’s been hanging over the characters for a while now, and this episode makes good on the threat it imposes.

Secondly, it gives everyone in the cast a chance to shine (well, except poor Djaq). Even the villains get their day, and this demonstrates more than anything why the Sheriff is a worthy opponent, even though he usually has to play the fool. There are some great scenes strewn throughout: Much learning of Robin’s engagement, Robin telling Will that Marian must live, Allan trying to make amends with Will, Will relaying Robin’s message to Marian, Allan trying to defend Gisborne to Sir Jasper…

Highpoints: The attempt to form an army out of approximately twelve men on horseback is genuinely adorable, but things like the dust cloud and the torches in the darkness work a lot better than the hasty editing in concealing just how few soldiers there really are. But the blood-red of the setting sun and the mounting panic of the people work very well – I get tense every time.

These sixteen dudes are going to raze an entire city to the ground

Ceris and her passel of brats also made for some amusing guest stars, though the idea that Robin could be helping members of the poor who are STILL desperate enough to turn on him given the opportunity is an interesting idea that’s never really brought up again.

Lowpoints: I can understand why Little John gets irritated with what are (to him) meaningless politics instead of helping the poor, but surely even HE can grasp that finding the Sheriff to save all of Nottingham is a task that must take precedence for a single day. Furthermore, it’s annoying that the show decides to punish him for his otherwise solid argument that Robin is starting to ignore the little people by having him unknowingly take the Sheriff to the camp. That’s just narrative cheating, even if I DO like the irony that he’s the one who finds Vaizey, having not even been looking for him in the first place.

That whole concept of Robin losing sight of the mission was an idea that should have been kept for another episode, especially when paired with Robin’s increasing levels of violence in trying to deal with the Sheriff’s schemes. I have this whole headcanon in which Robin realizes he’s crossed a line and temporarily cedes leadership to Little John, which could have been an interesting direction for the show to take. Alas, the idea of leadership struggles was a good idea that (like so much else) the show never makes good on.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: As mentioned, the whole “army of a dozen people” issue, bless their hearts.

One Little Piece of Trivia: This marks the first appearance of Lee Ross as Sir Jasper, another actor who would go on to appear in Andor as Mon Mothma’s chauffeur. Have you guys caught up on season two yet??

3. Show Me the Money

This is my personal favourite episode of series two, simply because it feels like the most Robin Hood-ish episode of this particular Robin Hood show. I can’t fully explain that sentiment, so let’s just say that if I wanted to demonstrate to a newbie what the general VIBE of this show was when it was at its best (outlaw hijinks, Robin/Marian/Gisborne love triangle, guest star subplot, incredibly silly elements) then this is the episode I would show them. Somehow, it is the show at its most quintessential.

This show in an absolute nutshell

Highlights: I am fond of any episode that incorporate elements from the actual Robin Hood legends into the proceedings, and one of the original ballads does involve Robin helping a lovelorn young man rescue his lady from the church. It’s usually Allan-a-Dale who takes the role of this would-be lover in need of assistance, but in a fun twist they portray him here as a nobleman called John of York. Just this once they’re going to steal from the rich to help the rich.

The episode also features a brutal brawl between Robin and Allan, perhaps the most visceral of the show’s entire run, one that’s all the more fraught for having to be fought without Guy noticing and which only ends when Marian intervenes. This is also the episode in which longtime recurring character Sir Edward meets his end, and the whole thing plays out really well, from Marian’s Regretful Parting Words galvanizing him into action, to his Heroic Sacrifice in delivering the Pact of Nottingham to Robin’s hands, to his poignant final words: “tell her, it’s good to dream...” to the very different ways in which Robin and Gisborne respond to Marian’s grief: Guy tries to take advantage, and Robin just holds her.

Knowing what’s coming in later episodes, a part of me likes to regard this as the final episode: Marian’s final ties to the castle are cut loose, and she can finally join her love in the forest. A bittersweet, but suitable ending for her – and much better than the one the show has in store.

Lowpoints: Well, I suppose to uphold my feminist cred, I would have to point out that Beatrice is little more than a plot device… though the truth is, in this case it doesn’t really bother me. I’ve criticized this show for its sexism in the past, but just unashamedly using the Damsel in Distress trope in its purest form without trying to pretend they’re not is at least honest. The counterargument to the opinion that the trope is archaic is that it demonstrates a woman is worth the trouble it takes to save her, and there are a few details here and there that I appreciated, from the winsomeness of the actress, to John’s assertion that “she belongs WITH me,” in response to the canon’s “she belongs TO me.”

The thing that really ticks me off is that Sir Edward dies in order to secure the safety of the Pact... and after the episode “Walkabout,” it’s never mentioned again. Robin clean forgets to take it to the Holy Land in order to present it to King Richard as proof of the evil goings-on at home. What the hell?!

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Robin’s plan to find the Pact of Nottingham by filling a chest with sand and letting the guards take to the storeroom is entirely contingent on no one noticing the trail of sand left behind them, and there being enough sand in there to take it where it’s meant to go.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Along with Robin attempting to reunite star-crossed lovers, the presence of a corrupt canon of the Church is another staple component of the Robin Hood stories. Such a character was played by Philip Jackson in Robin of Sherwood and Harold Innocent in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

2. Ducking and Diving

In my opinion, this episode is the first in a string of episodes in which the show was at its very best. From “Ducking and Diving” to “Walkabout,” it was firing on all cylinders – not just good by the standards of this show, but just plain good.

And this episode stands out for not only kickstarting that uptick in quality, but by being filled with dozens of great scenes (such as Allan’s desperate flailing in trying to extricate himself from an impossible situation without being detected) and containing what is hands-down the show’s best guest star: Josie Lawrence as Matilda.

Again, it’s not a coincidence that the writer, Debbie Oates, also gave us another woman-friendly episode in “Turk Flu.” Marian and Djaq are given decent material to work with, and there are no less than three significant supporting female characters: Matilda, Rosa, and the tavern wench (the credits identified her as Joan). They even pass the Bechdel Test, if you take into account that the baby is a girl and not a boy.

Solid writing, wonderful guest star, careful continuity, great scenes, high emotional stakes, the fact that every outlaw is given a moment to shine – all of these ingredients easily make this the best episode of series two. A quintessential Wham Episode. It ends and you can’t wait to see what happens next.

Highlights: Allan’s realization that his life and soul are on the line is expertly portrayed by Joe Armstrong’s performance, all of which culminates in the fairly gripping confrontation with Robin in the tavern. You really don’t know how this scene is going to end, and whether or not Allan’s life will be spared. It’s quite possibly one of the best scenes in the entire show.

Then there are all those little continuity nods (a mention of Roger of Stoke, Djaq bringing up Allan’s brother, John discussing his family, Will mentioning how Allan tried to talk him into leaving at the end of series one – it’s a rare thing for a writer on this show to pay attention to other episodes) and so many genuinely lovely moments: Allan trying to confess to Djaq, Little John successfully delivering the baby, Much’s outrage at the thought of a traitor and offering to cut his own hands off, Marian expertly playing Gisborne like a fiddle, and of course, Matilda actually unnerving the Sheriff. I think she’s the only character who ever managed it.

Lowpoints: The one sour note is how gung-ho Robin is about murdering Henry of Lewes, an unconscious man who may or may not have information about nothing more important than where King Richard plans to land on his return to England. Since the show ends with Richard STILL not having returned, it feels like drastic overkill on Robin’s part – no pun intended.

The show ultimately gives him the easy way out by having Henry hold a knife to Much’s throat, but imagine for a moment if Robin had spent the episode desperately trying to save instead of take the man’s life despite the perceived threat to the king. It would have made his split-second decision to kill him after initially staying his hand land that much harder, but the fact he was ready to slit the man’s throat while he was lying unconscious on a table so early on completely undermines the big moment at the episode’s climax.

In other words, Henry’s death should have been a serious turning point for Robin (and to be fair, it had the intended narrative effect of spooking Allan) but instead it’s ruined by how quick he is to resort to murder within the first fifteen minutes. What’s more, the promise of a dark arc for Robin, in which he resorts to more bloodthirsty measures for the sake of “the cause” (embodied by a king who can’t be bothered to rule his own country) before realizing he’s losing himself, is a great premise that never actually materializes. By series three, he’s still hypocritically spouting his “no killing” policy while casually murdering mooks without a moment’s hesitation.

Also, the other outlaws are WAY too blasé about Allan’s betrayal in the episode’s final moments. They’re given only a few seconds to process his expulsion from the gang before cheerfully running off to hold up the next carriage travelling through Sherwood. It was a dark episode, so perhaps they wanted to go out on a lighter note, but sheesh!

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: The breathing apparatus. That is not how any of this stuff works.

One Little Piece of Trivia: This is the episode in which my newbie friend made a very amusing and insightful comment on the nature of the show. To paraphrase: “it’s like there’s one writer in the writers’ room who gets to write maybe three episodes per season, and they’re trying SO HARD to make everything good, but keep getting shot down by everyone else, who don’t give a shit.” I feel like this could be a fairly accurate description of this show in its entirety.

1. Brothers in Arms

Justifying a single episode as a show’s best is always grounds for contentiousness, so hear me out: “Brothers in Arms” takes the honour because it is the show’s first truly great episode. Everything comes together plot-wise: there are genuine emotional stakes, an ethical conundrum, headway on the overarching story (namely, Marian and Guy’s engagement), some solid guest stars, and plenty of stuff for the outlaws to do. Mainly Allan and Djaq, who are my favourites.

The thoroughfare is the MacGuffin of the necklace, which goes through quite a journey in this episode, and which is used to draw together the two plotlines: the first in which Robin returning a stolen necklace to a village girl starts a domino effect that ends with Marian engaged to Gisborne, and the second involving Allan’s brother Tom temporarily joining the gang, betraying their trust, and paying the ultimate price. From Eleri to Gisborne, to Marian to Robin, to Eleri and then Gisborne again, to Lucky George and finally Tom, the necklace is eventually found in the latter’s belongings and delivered to Marian just in the nick of time – soon enough to save her life, but too late to save her from Gisborne’s proposal.

There are some genuinely fraught scenes here: the outlaws debating whether or not to save Tom, the Sheriff psyching up Gisborne to deliver his wrath on Marian, everyone’s reaction to Tom’s body, Djaq quietly trying to console Allan. There’s even a neat setup for a Chekhov’s Skill, in which Robin climbs up to Marian’s balcony early on, and later has to do it again under much different circumstances.

Essentially, this is the first episode in which you really feel that the outlaws have lost. They don’t get there in time. Allan’s brother is killed. They only just manage to extricate Marian from harm, but only so she can save herself by agreeing to marry Gisborne. It’s a sobering reminder that the heroes don’t always win the day, something that the show runs too wild with later on, to the point where the audience no longer cares what happens. But this early on, this episode hits just the right note.

Highlights: This provides some much-needed focus on Allan and Djaq, my favourite outlaws (yes, I shipped them) which showcases his more amoral outlook on life and divulges a little more of her background – namely, the meaning behind the name she’s chosen for herself. 

Lowpoints: Robin is pretty much a dick to Marian throughout this episode, first by spooking her horse to such an extent that she falls off it, then by getting stroppy at the sight of her wearing Guy’s gift around her neck, then by acting incredulous when she tells him she was planning to intercept the shipment of silver. What the hell, dude?

There’s also a slight fumble when it comes to the necklace. What happens in the episode is that Little John stops Lucky George’s carriage to reclaim it, only to find he doesn’t have it on his person. It’s at this point that Allan appears, having discovered the item in Tom’s clothing. What SHOULD have happened was for George to get clean away, with the outlaws assuming he’s taken the necklace with him. THEN they find the necklace in Tom’s clothing, it being revealed as something of a Hail Mary and a moment of posthumous redemption for Tom.

The way it plays out means that if Tom hadn’t taken it, the outlaws could have just as easily retrieved it from George, lessoning the poignancy of Tom’s final act in stealing it back. It’s a little detail, but it bugs me.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: I suppose I’ll have to go with Lucky George’s outfit, which looks like it belongs in an old-timey Wild West picture. However, given that this is clearly a deliberate creative decision to call to mind a snake-oil salesman, it fits the aesthetic that the show was trying to achieve. If this is as bad as it gets, you know you’re watching a good episode.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Little John has precisely two (2) lines in this entire episode, “let them hang,” and “from Lucky George.”

The special “too insulting to even deserve a place on this list, none of it should ever see the light of day again” tier...

37. Something Worth Fighting For Part I

It’s the penultimate episode, and please, just let this nightmare end already. The best they can come up with for the second-to-last episode ever is an evil plan that makes no sense whatsoever, a cat fight between the show’s only two female characters, an original outlaw killed indifferently, the interminable pointlessness of that excretable Isabella/Robin/Kate love triangle, and Archer.

The boys ponder the latest plot contrivance

And plot holes galore! I don’t even know where to start. How did Isabella know that Kate and Robin were an item? How did she know Allan was the best target to exploit with her lie that an outlaw was working for her? Why didn’t anyone realize it must have been a trick since if Allan WAS a spy, there was no reason for Isabella to publicly pardon him when he was potentially still of use to her? Why does Robin trust the guy who murdered his wife and not one of his own men? How did the old man Archer speaks to at the tavern know about the tunnel, especially since Gisborne states he killed all the men who worked on it? How does Archer even know the man in the first place if he was smuggled out of Locksley at birth?

Why didn’t Kate move her mother and sister out of Locksley when she started openly working with the outlaws, as Little John and Will Scarlet had to do? If she believes that Robin is in league with Isabella, why doesn’t she warn the other outlaws about what’s going on? In the scenario that Isabella concocts about herself and Robin still being an item, how the hell was Rebecca meant to explain how she came into possession of one half of Isabella’s locket? Why doesn’t Kate ask any obvious follow-up questions to either Robin or Rebecca about the story that’s been fed to her? Why doesn’t anyone see through this BLATANTLY OBVIOUS RUSE immediately?

On a Doylist level, there is some exasperating amusement to be derived from the fact that having tried to initiate a Breaking of the Fellowship development, in which the team is weakened because of outside forces sowing distrust… it really makes no difference whatsoever that Isabella successfully gets rid of Allan and Kate. Who knew, the guy who’s been ignored all season and the dead-weight hanging around everyone’s necks have no effect whatsoever on the plans that the remaining outlaws put into play. No morale is lost by their absence either. Absolutely nothing would have changed in either the tunnel or on the drawbridge if Kate and Allan had been present.

So there must have been a moment in the writers’ room, after having broken up the team and sent Kate packing, when someone realized that her presence was and always had been superfluous. If anything, the outlaws’ situation has remarkably improved without her.

But no, it cannot be! Something must be done to assure the audience of her essentialness and worth! And so we’re treated to another display of her “heroic” behaviour as she sabotages Tuck’s peaceful protest with a tantrum, something that nearly gets herself and everyone else killed, all so that Archer has a reason to be spurred into action. This is followed by him dragging Kate along when he rescues Robin and Gisborne from the tunnel (with her necessary assistance, of course) and the sight of her saving Robin’s life by spontaneously inventing CPR and administrating it to a man whose injuries don’t even require it. Oh, and then she gets to beat up Isabella, even though the Sheriff clearly has the upper-hand AND a weapon for the greater duration of the fight.

But Kate wins because she... squeezes Isabella’s face and so renders her incapacitated? I mean, look at this screenshot. Isabella’s left hand is free!! Just reach out and yank on those dark roots!

This episode contains the most gratuitous of all the Kate Character Shilling that goes on throughout the entirety of series three. Truly, I have never in my life seen a bunch of writers crawl as far up a character’s ass as these writers did up Kate’s. If she had started flying and throwing lightning bolts from her hands to single-handedly take down the Sheriff’s army, it honestly wouldn’t have surprised me in the least.

Highlights: I suppose it is fun to watch Kate deliver an emotional ultimatum to Robin: “tell me you need me more than [my family] do,” and him being unable to give her an answer. That and his indifferent shrug when Much points out she’s abandoned them is extremely satisfying. Even this Mary Sue can’t have everything her own way, though the writers sure as hell did their best to accommodate her every whim.

Lowpoints: WHY do the writers still care about this stupid love triangle, WHY? At this point they MUST have had Lucy Griffiths just off-stage, tapping her foot impatiently and waiting for her paycheque, so WHY waste time with this stupid locket plot? PLEASE, SOMEBODY TELL ME THE REASON. I WANT TO UNDERSTAND.

And of course, what they do to Allan. So cruel, so pointless, so vile.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: Archer throws ninja stars because of course he fucking does. And he uses them to save Kate’s life, which means something that could have been campy and amusing is just shitty by default.

One Little Piece of Trivia: There is one very amusing moment in which Robin fires an arrow from a rooftop in Locksley, then slides down the incline to the ground. Except that the individual who performs the stunt is clearly not Jonas Armstrong:

38. A Dangerous Deal

“We Are Robin Hood” may be the bomb that destroyed this show, but I think I hate “A Dangerous Deal” even more. If you ever wanted to prove this show had deeply misogynistic undertones, then this is the episode that cinches it. There are three women in this episode: one is killed off in order to help a male character find his redemption for having murdered another female character, one is a victim of domestic abuse who kills her abuser and gets physically attacked by another man for doing so, and the third is a thoroughly nasty, spiteful, self-absorbed, petulant, vindicative little POS that the writing laughably describes as “compassionate” and “worth more than any treasure” and sincerely expects us to agree.

Kate grapples with the unbearable strain of not being the 
center of attention for five whole minutes

It's the most misogynistic forty-five minutes of television I’ve ever seen, and I watched Game of Thrones.

Highpoints: Well, it’s not so much a highpoint as something I find unintentionally satisfying, but if you were trace back the domino effect that culminates in Robin’s death, then you can find its source in this episode: Little John inexplicably needles Isabella about how Robin: “has eyes for Kate” (which leads to her reneging on their deal) and Kate herself physically prevents Robin from shooting Isabella’s abusive husband as he’s chasing her into the castle. The alliance between Robin and Isabella could have been salvaged were it not for these seemingly minor events taking place, but as it turns out, they’re the butterfly farts that start the chain reaction that ends with Isabella scratching Robin with that poisoned dagger in the final episode.

Basically, Kate’s obsession with Robin, and everyone else’s obsession with Kate, and the writers’ obsession with giving her everything she wants, is what leads directly to Robin’s death. Death by Close Contact with a Black Hole Mary Sue. And that’s just funny.

Lowpoints: You’d think Marian getting murdered in a highly sexualized way and buried in a pauper’s grave in a foreign land to service her killer’s arc would be the lowpoint of the show in its entirety, but there are apparently even deeper women-hating depths to delve for.

Honestly, male characters grabbing this woman's face
could be a drinking game across the course of series three.

Let’s see, Isabella kills the abusive spouse who tortured her for years as he’s on the verge of strangling her, only for Robin to storm into her bedroom, accuse her of murder, grab her by the throat and throw her into her own bed. His exact words are: “I only kill when there’s no other way,” even though he killed an executioner for no reason mere seconds ago. This statement also glosses over how Thornton made it very clear he was chasing Isabella with murderous intent, and ignores the fact that coming into the room to kill this man was EXACTLY WHAT ROBIN WAS THERE TO DO.

Then there’s Meg, perfectly designed and calibrated to perform the initial prerequisite defiance before going all dewy-eyed over a man she’s known for ten minutes before dying prettily in his arms because why else do women exist but to serve the narratives of sad murderers? (For the record, Guy never mentions her again).

And of course Kate, who has nothing to offer this story but pathetic jealousy, raging entitlement, incessant whining, and then a smug “I told you so” before being rewarded with everything she wants. I have truly never despised a fictional character to the depths I have despised this one. There’s not a single scene featuring her that I wasn’t longing to watch her receive a boot to the face. I hate the fact this show makes me feel this level of vitriol towards a female character.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: There is a Viking burial mound in Sherwood Forest that Meg somehow knows the exact location of, though the outlaws have never stumbled upon it in the three years they’ve been living in this forest. Whatever.

One Little Piece of Trivia: Holliday Grainger guest stars as Meg, who now might well be the most recognizable actress that ever featured on this show. 

39. We Are Robin Hood

The episode that was the equivalent of a nuclear bomb: killing off Marian, permanently writing out Will/Djaq, and robbing the show of its emotional centre – not just the central love story but the outlaw dynamic as well. For fun, they also kill off Carter, the show’s most popular guest star, in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, just to really hammer those nails in the coffin.

Having removed the beating heart of the story, why would anyone care about what happened next? What was there left to care about? Nothing, as the plummeting ratings and cancellation at the end of the third series would eventually prove.

Fifteen years later and I’m still baffled by the existence of this: how anyone conceived it, why anyone wrote it, and how anyone could have thought was something people would ever want to see.

Highpoints: Well, the DVDs do provide us with a commentary from the entire cast, who were clearly just as baffled as the rest of us as to just what the fuck was going on here.

Lowpoints: There are so many things to hate about this episode. That Marian is conveniently denied a weapon to defend herself with. That she dies for the sake of an indifferent king that will eventually perish in France, opening up the throne to Prince John in just a few years. That Richard takes the word of a complete stranger that Robin is a turncoat and subsequently ties him up in the desert with no further questions asked. That Robin completely forgot to bring along the Pact of Nottingham, which would have cleared up the situation instantly.

The cruel baiting that goes on throughout the episode: that Marian just misses Robin and Much at her prison cell window, that they exchange their wedding vows before Carter rescues them, that Robin is conveniently just off-screen for the duration of Marian’s confrontation with Gisborne… It’s just cruel and sadistic and mean-spirited and worst of all: NOT ENTERTAINING.

And on a Doylist level, that the architect of all this misery just up and left others to clean up his mess. That the showrunners bragged about how Marian’s murder was the “consummation,” of her relationship with Gisborne, without the slightest inkling of how vile and misogynistic this sounded. That the BBC actually tried to pin the blame on Lucy Griffiths for their mistake by saying she wanted to “pursue roles in Hollywood.” That a single episode in series three is devoted to the fallout of her murder before it’s largely swept under the rug. That at no point does Robin ask a simple, fundamental question of Guy: “why did you kill her?”

In the space of forty-five minutes, a fun, silly, upbeat show gets turned into a worthless waste of time. It wasn’t until the botched mess of the Star Wars sequel trilogy that I was similarly left embarrassed for ever being invested in the first place.

This Episode’s Very Stupid Thing: I’ve just ranted about it for three paragraphs, but how anyone could have thought “Gisborne murders Marian” was a good idea simply defies belief – until you realize that male writers are obsessed with this particular narrative. Female characters are always getting murdered in shocking twists! It’s Othello killing Desdemona, Arthur Holmwood killing Lucy Westenra, Wolverine killing Jean Grey, Jon Snow killing Daenerys, Thanos killing Gamora – men kill the women they supposedly love all the time, for the woman’s own good, or in a pique of uncontrollable passion, or to save the world, or to achieve their more important long-term goals.

The women usually die silently, calmly, inevitably – in this case, Marian doesn’t register any pain when she should be screaming her head off, and there’s not a speck of blood on her white clothes. Because the brutal slaughter of a young woman can’t be unseemly! There can’t be tears or screams or body fluids. That would make the menfolk uncomfortable instead of titillated.

When all’s said and done, the final episode of series two of the BBC’s Robin Hood was a formative lesson for me on how women are written and treated by male writers; that they’re never truly safe, no matter how intrinsic they appear to be to the stories being told. Like all those others, the legendary Marian, who was so clever and interesting and passionate and brave, was ultimately just a device to serve male narratives.

One Little Piece of Trivia: I despise this episode with every atom of my body. The depths to which I hate it is a fundamental part of who I am as a person.

***

And so there we have it, the best and worst of the BBC’s Robin Hood. For every “Show Me the Money” there’s a “Peace? Off!” but every long-running project has its ups and downs. After all, if there weren’t bad episodes, we wouldn't know what a good one looked like, and the show’s commitment to wild anachronisms, questionable costumes, plots that never went anywhere, and guest stars that were often more interesting than the main characters was all part of its charm. For the first two series at least.

The show’s third outing is a bewildering offering, in which episodes have very little to do with each other, even less to do with the preceding two seasons, and preoccupied with showcasing new characters instead of letting audiences spend precious time with old favourites, which was ultimately a pointless endeavour since the show was cancelled before those new characters could fully take over as the show’s protagonists. For mysterious reasons, viewers weren’t particularly invested in the proposed Archer and Kate Show.

I have such an odd relationship with it all, in that for a long time Robin Hood was my mental happy place, filled with fond memories of a very chill, very engaged fandom experience, only for it to become an enraging and profoundly disappointing hate-watch in the space of a single episode. 

Hate-watching is not something to be proud of, and if the show taught me anything it’s that if something starts to go off the rails, don’t hang around waiting for it to get better. (Though in this case, the decline happened so abruptly and randomly that a part of me is still suffering from the whiplash of it all, and to this day there have been no clear answers as to just what was going on behind the scenes. Over fifteen years later, and the choices made by showrunners Dominic Mingella and Foz Allan are still shrouded in mystery).

Perhaps this post will provide some closure, along with my rewatch of the show itself from start to finish (though I still couldn’t bring myself to watch all of “Something Worth Fighting For Part I”). I hope you enjoyed this little retrospective, and if you happen to be a frequenter of TV Tropes, then much of the information and facts listed here can also be found on that site’s Robin Hood pages - though in my defense, there's a 90% chance I'm the person who put it there.