Paul Greengrass’s historical drama, The Uprising, doesn’t waste any time getting started.
I won’t either.
It’s 1381. The Black Death is still in living memory, and the Hundred-Year’s War is still going on. The young King Richard II (Woody Norman) and his councilors need more money. So, they decide to tax the already strained peasants even more. It’s either that, or tax the merchants, and everyone knows they want representation (that’s basically their justification!).
A humble Ploughman (Andrew Garfield), who lost his family in the plague, starts a riot, which leads to the historical Peasants’ Revolt. Ploughman marches with the peasants to London, where they hope they can petition the King to be nicer to them. Needless to say, their faith in him is mostly misplaced. That’s pretty much it.
“I am what I do,” Ploughman says. And he doesn’t do much. He spends time with Richard and his mother, Joan of Kent (Katherine Waterston), so there’s something. But he mostly just goes with the crowd and only steps out to be their spokesman or fight. He’s barely able to do anything when the crowd gets out of hand midway through. We barely get to know him during the film’s arduous 127-minutes; there isn’t even a flashback to his family, whom he says haunts him. The best I can say about him is that he’s just fine.
It gets silly when it turns out that Mr. Plow is actually Robin Hood, or whoever inspired the legend (the poem Piers Plowman, the earliest surviving mention of Mr. Hood, was written during this time). It comes out of nowhere in the epilogue, and it just ends after an awkward last shot. It’s a waste of the film’s most vibrant costumes, specifically those for the pseudo-Merry Men. This was briefly subtitled as “The Rise of Robin Hood,” but a more appropriate moniker is “Surprise! Here’s Robin Hood!”
There’s barely a discernible face in the crowd, other than the revolt’s historical leaders Wat Tyler (Cosmo Jarvis) and John Ball (Jamie Bell), and even then I had a hard time remembering who was who. It’s kind of hard to care about them when the King double-crosses them and nearly slaughters them to the man. Alyce (Thomasin McKenzie), a former nun, is probably the most compelling face. While the King’s pivot to full evil is jarring, there’s no denying that Norman goes all out in the role. His evil council, meanwhile, is just there. But the best role in the film belongs to Sky Yang, as the King’s kind-hearted scribe.
So, did anything else work in this film? The cinematography by Pål Ulvik Rokseth can’t sit still to save its life, but it is appropriately bleak. More impressively, though, are its massive crowd shots; it’s hard to tell if any of those extras are digital. The editing by William Goldenberg sells us on the nightmarishness of the London riots. Unfortunately, it doesn’t dwell on any of its unintended victims, of which there are likely many. So, there goes the sympathy. But at least Volker Bertelmann’s intense score sets the mood quite effectively.
I know I complained a bit about Greengrass's The Lost Bus for its slow first act, but its unrelenting thrills more than made up for that. The Uprising, meanwhile, rushes through its history, and it also takes a while to get there. Strangely, its admirable story and resonant themes kept my attention more often than not. It just needed a much better execution for them. You can check it out if you want. Maybe you'll have a better time in its narrative Sherwood Forest.
I've said enough.