These days, it’s pretty hard to watch a movie without knowing too much beforehand, thanks to either a clumsy review or all the buzz on social media. With The Uprising, the confusion comes from its own marketing, which started using the tagline ‘The Rise of Robin Hood’ on some posters. The U.K. distributors muddied the waters more by claiming it’s not about the legendary outlaw but rather a straightforward historical epic focused on the 1381 Peasant Revolt. In a chat with THR, Paul Greengrass even confessed that there was always an outlaw ending, and he initially named the screenplay The Hood. 

Having grown up in the UK, the filmmaker, who transitioned from journalism to directing, has always been fascinated by the revolt sparked by the unpopular Third Poll Tax meant to fund the ongoing Hundred Years’ War. Like many big-budget Hollywood films, he uses this historical event as a backdrop but takes plenty of creative liberties to shape it into a hero’s journey. The film kicks off with Andrew Garfield portraying a grieving farmer known simply as The Ploughman, who is toiling away alone in a vast, muddy gray field. This broken widower is still in mourning for his family, who perished due to the Black Death plague.

The portrayal of downtrodden, hopeless workers is quite different from the actual historical context, where a shortage of labor often gave common folks an edge and boosted their economic power. But hey, this isn’t a documentary. Framing the uprising as a desperate, tragic clash of starving underdogs as opposed to a well-organized, economically strong workforce makes for a much more thrilling narrative that alludes to the classic Robin Hood tale.

Greengrass quickly dives into the revolt during a tax collection scene. The Ploughman looks on in disgust as young women from the village endure humiliating searches to arbitrarily decide if they should be taxed as adults or children. Revolted by (pun fully intended) the growing injustice, the usually mild farmer steps up and shouts, ‘Enough!’ He transforms into a fierce warrior, fighting off the King’s soldiers with a rage that results in one of their deaths. His sudden act of violence inspires the crowd to rise up against the oppressive kingdom.

Garfield has an earnestness about him that makes you root for him despite not knowing much about his character. The character development is thin, but his portrayal feels very human with a quiet reserve. He depicts a conflicted man with a strong moral conscience, and even though he’s dealing with deep sorrow, there’s still a noticeable reluctance to engage in terrible actions as he watches the mob go berserk in horror. Despite the makeup team making him look all messy and muddy, Garfield still manages to keep that classic matinee-idol charm that no amount of dirt can conceal. 

Along the journey, the Ploughman meets real historical figures like former soldier Wat Tyler (Cosmo Jarvis) and radical preacher John Ball (Jamie Bell), who thinks the feudal system is a sin against God. Jarvis is quite versatile and seems perfect for period pieces. In FX’s Shōgun, he fits right into the Sengoku era (1600s), and here, he looks like he just walked out of the Middle Ages with his bowl haircut and rugged presence.

On the flip side, we have a teenage King Richard II (Woody Norman, the kid from C’mon C’mon) being protected by a greedy, power-hungry royal council. Among them, Treasurer Hales (Tom Hollander) and Archbishop Sudbury (Stephen Dillane) refuse to tax the wealthy merchants or the Church, instead pushing to tax the peasants in the king’s name. The crafty mayor of London, Walworth (Jonny Lee Miller), makes an appearance in the latter part of the film and becomes a significant figure who somehow manages to win the young King’s favor. 

Norman’s performance stands out amongst the stellar supporting cast. He carries a certain poise and an unpredictable vibe that gives him a noble, almost benevolent presence. When we first meet the 14-year-old monarch, he seems weak and gripped by fear, which concerns his mother, Joan of Kent (Katherine Waterston). But as the peasants start to lower their defenses, he reveals his true nature, shocking even his own mother. Joan acts as the emotional heart of the court, highlighted by her friendly interaction with the Ploughman early on. However, Joan ultimately has no voice in the situation, but I wouldn’t say it’s a thankless role.

Thomasin McKenzie’s Alyce is another significant female character in the film. While Joan embodies the sheltered royalty, Alyce represents the struggling lower class as a former nun whose life was shattered by the Church’s systemic greed. I appreciate that Greengrass didn’t reduce her to just a love interest like Maid Marian is to Robin Hood.

The anti-establishment ‘eat the rich’ narrative feels relevant right now, maybe even more than when Greengrass was writing the script during the lockdown in 2020. At one point, the riot scenes remind me of the ‘No Kings’ protests against the Trump administration that favored the wealthy. Billionaires across the board are using their massive influence to sway elections and push policies that benefit themselves. Meanwhile, regular folks are still grappling with the rising cost of living, and it seems like the frustration is about to explode. 

Filmed in Bavaria, Germany, known for its well-preserved medieval towns, Greengrass captured the rebellion in a really raw and graphic way. There’s this intense feeling of dread as the peasant mob marches into London, dragging the terrified royal council and beheading them one by one in the streets. It’s worth noting that June 1831 was the only time the Tower of London has ever been attacked by hostile forces since it was built in the 1070s. It’s pretty gruesome to see the headless bodies, and later we spot their severed heads on spikes while the mob continues to loot and cause chaos. The horror is also reflected in the expressions of the peasant leaders, the Ploughman, Tyler, and Ball. They all look horrified, as if to say, ‘What have we done? We’ve unleashed a monster!’ They’ve completely lost control of their group.

Greengrass’ signature handheld, shaky-cam style is good for showcasing the raw brutality that’s definitely less polished. His cinéma-vérité method creates an immersive, intense experience. However, the heavy use of CGI in the aerial shots feels out of sync with his tactile, documentary-style approach. These digital flyover effects aim to highlight the vastness of the rebellion, but they took me out of the film. 

I think Greengrass goes overboard with the shaky-cam technique; there were times I had to shut my eyes because I felt quite dizzy. It’s not just distracting but also a bit nauseating since the camera never seems to stop moving, especially during dialogue-heavy scenes like the one in the royal chamber. It actually takes away from the emotional closeness that could benefit from a moment of stillness. He should really tone it down and dust off that tripod to actually use it. 

The British director collaborated once more with Norwegian DP Pål Ulvik Rokseth after The Lost Bus, and it seems the direction was ‘make it as aggressively dull and dreary as possible.’ Ironically, despite his name, we hardly saw any green grass in the film. It felt like the Black Plague had drained all the natural greens from the landscape and farm fields and even stripped the sky of its blue. I understand that Greengrass wants the ‘grimdark’ vibe to align with the story’s heavy themes, but it was genuinely tough to sit through such a monotonous visual for over two hours.

That being said, the performances by the actors and the pacing are solid, keeping me engaged for the over two-hour runtime. Regarding the Robin Hood connection, I feel it’s not really needed; the story of a farmer turning into an outlaw during the Peasant Revolt is captivating enough on its own. But I guess studios often lean on familiar IPs to attract a wider audience.

Greengrass mentioned he aimed to create a grand film about a hero’s journey filled with spectacle and intrigue. I believe he pulled it off, and the theme of fighting for justice is a timeless one. He effectively transports viewers to medieval England while also prompting us to reflect on our present-day issues.

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