in which Kivrin revisits 1991 and is Rather Embarrassed

So, in the summer of 1991, I was thirteen, and after Dances with Wolves I had a bit of a crush on Kevin Costner (which was consistent with my habit of selecting nonfictional crush objects who were still safely unavailable due to being older, married, and/or dead.) So I saw Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. At the time, I found the photography lacking, but I really, really dug the film, and rented the video several times.

Several weeks ago I Netflix'd it, expecting it to be goofy, but thinking it might be a tonic action-adventure experience. breadandroses and I watched it last night, and, well. I was a very naive thirteen-year-old. I now think the film wasn't much to begin with, and it has aged poorly.

Things I'd remembered:
- the beauty of Mary Stuart Mastrantonio as Maid Marian. The cheekbones!
- Morgan Freeman as a magical Moor.
- Christian Slater (and a badfic-worthy plot twist.)
- Alan Rickman being Alan Rickman as the Sheriff of Nottingham.
- the music (really, really well, because while I haven't seen the film for fifteen-ish years, I have the soundtrack and like to play it on road trips.)

I think the score is still really good. Though breadandroses and I found the sound levels on the DVD really problematic - sometimes the music was overpowering the dialogue, and some scenes were much much louder than others.

The rest of the film... well.

Things I hadn't remembered and/or never realized

- this movie is ridiculous. It takes itself veryvery seriously but it is ridiculous. ( Read more... )

In short, I do not now understand why this got my 13-year-old self obsessed with Robin Hood (to the point that I Mary Sue'd myself into a heavily Prince of Thieves-based version of the legend.) And I'm glad I didn't buy the dvd, even for $5.