Robin Hood: The Cause of All This Unrest

This is a bit of a patchy episode, the goal of which seems to be moving pieces around the board so that everyone is in place for the second half of the season. And introducing Friar Tuck, of course.

It’s also a Four Lines, All Waiting situation, as the writers’ room is now juggling a fairly massive cast of characters, all of whom are off in their own plotlines that barely intersect.

We’ll start with our main character (who unfortunately continues to be the least interesting part of this show) as he accumulates more Merry Men. And yes, we’re still calling him Robert at this stage, though that will cease by the end of this episode.

There's a lot of fiddling with his hood in this episode,
for reasons that become clear by its end.

He, Little John and the Miller brothers decide to attack a convey of food being driven by a couple of monks. Interestingly, John is loathe to attack men of the church, while Robert has no compunctions considering he doesn’t worship “their” God. Is this the first Robin Hood who hasn’t been a Christian?

And so we meet our latest Friar Tuck, played by Angus Castle-Doughty (who has been in Shadow and Bone and The Sandman among other things). He’s young, he doesn’t have a tonsure, and he’s a fighter. He’s also Norman, and I’m having some trouble understanding his motivation here. Once Rob’s gang takes possession of his stores and his companion runs off, he refuses to do the same out of fear of “the Abbott.” Instead, he opts to stay with the outlaws, and ends up telling them the route of the Norman tax collectors, from whom they might get their hands on a substantial amount of coin with minimal effort.

Unfortunately, it all goes wrong when it turns out the tax collection also includes the reward money on Rob’s head, which means an increased number of guards travelling with it. The outlaws attack without realizing this, and in order to save their lives, Rob ends up shooting the entire contingent of Norman soldiers.

Whoops.

It’s unclear whether the Abbott that Tuck mentioned during his introductory scene is the same individual as the Bishop that’s already appeared in the last three episodes (the two titles refer to quite different positions in the clergy) but the slap he gives to the Bishop after the botched attack felt rather personal. Likewise, he doesn’t seem to be particularly fazed by Rob’s assertion that he worships a goddess, and despite some proselytizing on Christ’s behalf, he doesn’t push the matter too strongly.

So, we’ve got ourselves a Norman monk that hates the corruption of the church so much he’s willing to throw his lot in with the Saxon outlaws, give them pertinent information that will incumber his own people, and then watch as Rob kills every Norman soldier among them. He says beforehand that he didn’t want anyone killed, but – come on, Tuck. That’s incredibly naïve of you.

I’m not really sure what to make of all this. That’s a lot of contradictions at play within Tuck, and (much like Little John in the previous episode) we’re not given a huge amount of understanding as to why he throws his lot in with Rob so suddenly. As yet, I don’t feel I have a fix on this character, so hopefully forthcoming episodes will shed some more light on his background.

***

Meanwhile, the Sheriff has rightfully put the blame for all this unrest (hey, that’s the name of the episode!) on Huntington and his greed, but clearly isn’t prepared to actually give the Saxon outlaws any quarter. Attempting to kill two birds with one stone, he approaches the Bishop and tells him to raise reward money for Robert’s capture, and drop Priscilla off at a convent after she’s attended the funeral of Huntington’s son.

For the record, Huntington is gung-ho about tracking down Robert himself, while the Bishop seems to want to step back and not get involved. The Sheriff is situated in the middle ground, of wanting law and order to prevail. That makes for a fairly interesting triumvirate of villains and their contrasting approaches to the situation.

The Bishop heads off to the Earl of Huntington’s estate (formerly known as Locksley) to attend the funeral of his son. Priscilla is with him, and for plot-necessary reasons the Bishop tells her about her father’s intention to leave her in a convent well before they actually get there, giving her ample time to plot an escape.

The burial of young… er… Marian’s little brother is a sad affair, especially since they’re lowering him into the grave with his face uncovered. Huh? Did the show think we’d be confused as to who he was if we couldn’t see him? But his older brother’s tears are quite moving, and Huntington is clearly psyching himself up for a full assault on the outlaws – as soon as the grief loses its edge.

Priscilla takes advantage of this state of mind, and tries her hand at seducing him. Mercifully, it turns out that she’s not doing this to win a degree of autonomy and make herself the next Lady of Huntington, but to get the Bishop on his way so she can make a break for it back to Nottingham.

Her father is hardly pleased to see her, but Priscilla ends up getting the modern girl outrage that we all assumed would go to Marian, and shouts down her father about how he’s not allowed to make decisions regarding how she’s going to live her life. Really? She’s going to be the anachronistic one? I guess it’s not surprising given her behaviour in the last three episodes, but if this had any semblance to real life at all, this would be the part when the Sheriff has his men forcibly remove her to a convent, give or take a horse-whipping, since he has all the power and rights to do so.

***

All this contrasts rather strangely with the third plot in this episode, which examines the role of women at court, and Marian gradually being introduced to the concept of soft power in a world of men.

It’s not handled particularly gracefully, with Queen Eleanor giving her a lengthy monologue about how women can wield power unbeknownst to men, while demonstrating very little acumen when it actually comes to dealing with people and the information they bring her. She meets with an Earl, and later in the episode we’re treated to another sex scene that reveals he and Eleanor’s main lady-in-waiting are passing secrets to each other – namely that the Queen is fermenting a rebellion against King Henry, and that Marian has been selected to be her spy in Nottingham (necessary given that the Sheriff is a loyalist).

Meanwhile, Marian remains oblivious to all this. Let’s hope she starts making some moves of her own, and soon.

***

It’s time to accept that this show is levelling out into something that’s entertaining but average. The politics are too trite; the characters too one-dimensional for this to be anything other than just “fine.”

The biggest disappointment is the dialogue, which (as shows like Andor, Black Sails and Interview with the Vampire demonstrate so plainly) can make or break the quality of a show. Here, people say what’s needed in order to move onto the next scene, or to convey their feelings in the most surface-level way possible. The worst example would have to be Priscilla’s attempt at a seduction: “A man should not grieve alone. I could stay with you tonight. But in the eyes of the church, it might be considered improper.”

Oh, you don’t say? This episode in particular just felt very pedestrian when it came to how all these characters interacted with each other (or in the case of Tuck, mildly inexplicable).

Miscellaneous Observations:

Marian is left-handed. Huh. I wonder if that’s because the actress is left-handed, or whether it’s a deliberate choice for the character. Because being left-handed back then was a big no-no, to the point that it’ll be downright bizarre if no one ever comments on it.

Another odd choice that probably had more to do with trying to make a Doylistic impression rather than adhere to Watsonian logic was Priscilla wearing a red dress to a funeral. Who does that? Also, I’m surprised she hasn’t spoke up about the fact Marian is on her way to serve Queen Eleanor in London. That sounds like the sort of thing Priscilla would love to be doing herself.

Aw, Little John’s dog died. Why couldn’t the outlaws keep a dog around?

Ralph makes a subtle overture towards Robin when she notices him fiddling with a marigold. Sorry hon, but your name isn’t Marian. There’s only one way this love story ends.

We get a couple of brief Will-sightings, which so little more than demonstrate he’s just sleeping his way through the castle staff. I’m a bit disappointed that he tried his luck with Marian, though thankfully he lets it go just as easily.

During Priscilla and the Sheriff’s fight, that manservant steps between them and even draws a knife in Priscilla’s defence. Who is this guy? I feel like his Character Establishing Scene was cut entirely, and now we’re just meant to pretend we’re up to speed on what he’s all about.

Ryan Gage returns as Spragart, the poacher Rob’s father tried to save, who then escaped from the dungeons of Castle Nottingham when everyone else was distracted. He turns up with a wife called Mary, who are both just sort of wandering down the road when he notices tread marks in the road left by the earlier skirmish between Tuck and the outlaws. It’s not long before he falls into company with them.

I’m not entirely sure what his purpose is at the moment, besides coming up with the truly contrived origins of Robin’s name by calling him “Rob in the hood,” which naturally gets compressed into “Robin Hood” by the time the credits role. Also, Mary is killed during the attack on the Bishop’s carriage, and is grieved for less than twenty seconds. Seriously, the dead dog got more attention.

Some interesting comments were made on the terrain of Sherwood Forest from various parties: from the outlaws that it’s a place of safety where they can gather natural resources, and from the Normans that it’s a perfect hiding place for their enemies. It’s a sanctuary and battlefield both at once.

The highlight of the episode was probably the introduction of Tuck, even though (as mentioned) it was difficult to get a handle on his character. That he’s unfazed by Rob’s rejection of his God, that he clearly has beef with the higher ranks of the clergy, that he advocates for non-violence while demonstrating combat skills and giving the outlaws the means to attack a tax convoy (information which is offered without any prompting whatsoever)… there’s clearly a lot going on here, and much of it seems contradictory. What’s he trying to achieve with all this?

(Before the attack he asks Robin that he only aim his arrows at the guards’ legs, which – come on Tuck! In those days such wounds could be just as fatal as a kill shot, and the show itself is clearly unsure where it stands on the whole What Measure is a Mook? question).  

In any case, he made for an interesting contrast to the BBC’s version of Tuck played by David Harewood, who – despite all the dire choices made in season three of that show – actually did get a pretty solid introduction. His motivation is clarified when he tells Robin: “I have nothing in my life except my God and my country. I've no family, no wife, yet I have a full heart. And passion must go somewhere.” If nothing else, that speech gave us a clear understanding of where he was coming from, which is more than this Tuck is afforded.

As it happens, Tuck has always been an anachronistic element of these stories, as he was introduced into the legends relatively late, and retrospectively inserted into an era when the term “friar” didn’t even exist. (Again, the BBC version did better when they called him Brother Tuck instead). Up until recently, he’s the one character that has changed very little from one portrayal to the next across the years, though in the last few modern adaptations of this tale, he’s been portrayed as less spiritual, less rotund and much less comedic than he usually is – most notably David Harewood, Tim Minchin, and now Angus Castle-Doughty.

This is a bit of a shame, as along with providing levity and a degree of moral authority, Tuck is one of the oldest and best-known examples of fat positivity we have in the world. Even the name “Tuck” carries the connotations of someone who likes to “tuck into” his food.

Aaaaand... perfect hood positioning has been reached.

In all, not a great episode, and perhaps an indicator that this is general level of quality that we have to expect.