This show is unbelievably awesome. It’s like someone plucked what I wished was going on in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves from my ten-year-old brain and mixed it liberally with dashes of political commentary, sex, and Keith Allen.
But a full-on geek out on the merits of this delightfully well-written, trash-tinged series will come later. For now, I’m all about this pastel-rendered mofo.
Introducing Sir Guy of Gisborne, the Sheriff of Nottingham’s second-in-command, generally tortured torturer, giver of sighs and dubious glares that could rival those of a teenage girl’s. He is the heavy to the Sheriff’s wicked dandy, and what a pretty heavy he makes. If he were one of those free gifts from Lancome he’d be all black eyeshadow and cuticle-pusher-backers. He doesn’t know if he wants a soft, sparkly life or to keep toeing the line between pleasure and pain. Bring unjust death upon poor peasants who steal to live? Sure thing. Bring unjust death to noted Robin Hood enthusiast and codpiece-tease Maid Marian? Uh…only if he really has to and/or she’s dressed as the Night Watchman.
Here’s why I dig this guy. In addition to being fairy-tale-prince-gone-wrong hot, the moments where he doesn’t know if he’s coming or going are the best. He is a man whose sole purpose is to act as another’s blunt instrument. When he does come into moments of clarity or self-assertion, it’s terrifying. He could do good or evil. The anything-could-happen tension charges every scene he’s in. He is mad with love, lust, and self-hatred. He’s not a bad boy, because that denotes some reckless, carefree spirit. He has no spirit. He’s absolutely broken, and the pleasure comes in watching sparks of soul come through him, and inspire him to splint some part of himself with twisted cruelty or tender truth.
Most of the time it’s twisted cruelty.
Most of the time it’s twistedly hot.
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