A consistently intelligent (or at least bright), coherently constructed comedy that is on occasion a rather pointed critique of the American education system in the…
That Robin Hood is nowhere to be found in Ridley Scott's “Robin Hood,” starring Russell Crowe as a warrior just back from fighting in the Third Crusade. Now Richard is dead, and Robin is essentially an unemployed mercenary. This story is a prequel. It takes place entirely before Robin got to be a folk hero. The idea of taking from the rich and giving to the poor was still in storyboard form. Grieving Richard the Lionhearted and now facing the tyrant King John, Robin leads an uprising.
This war broadens until, in the words of the movie's synopsis, “it will forever alter the balance of world power.” That's not all; “Robin will become an eternal symbol of freedom for his people.” Not bad for a man who, by general agreement, did not exist. Although various obscure bandits and ne'er-do-wells inspired ancient ballads about such a figure, our image of him is largely a fiction from the 19th century.
But so what? In for a penny, in for a pound. After the death of Richard, Robin Hood raises, arms and fields an army to repel a French army as it lands on an English beach in wooden craft that look uncannily like World War II troop carriers at Normandy. His men, wielding broadswords, backed by archers, protected from enemy arrows by their shields, engage the enemy in a last act devoted almost entirely to nonstop CGI and stunt carnage in which warriors clash in confused alarms and excursions, and Russell Crowe frequently appears in the foreground to whack somebody.
Subsequently, apparently, Robin pensioned his militia and retired to Sherwood Forest to play tag with Friar Tuck. That's my best guess; at the end the film informs us, “and so the legend begins,” leaving us with the impression we walked in early.