Outlaw King (2018)

DIRECTOR: David Mackenzie

CAST: Chris Pine, Florence Pugh, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Billy Howle, Tony Curran, Sam Spruell, Stephen Dillane, James Cosmo

REVIEW:

Outlaw King, co-writer/producer/director David Mackenzie’s chronicle of the rebellious activities of Scottish national hero Robert the Bruce, could be seen as a sort of indirect follow-up to Braveheart (to be clear, this is not a “sequel” to Braveheart, merely dealing with a couple of the same characters around the same time period), and while it lacks the scope and compulsive narrative drive of Mel Gibson’s epic, it serves as an interesting, if lesser, companion piece.

We start around the time period that Braveheart was ending in, with the execution of rebel leader William Wallace and the crushing of his long resistance campaign by the brutal occupying English forces. Wallace’s former comrade-in-arms Robert the Bruce (Chris Pine) initially tries to keep his head down and move on from a seemingly lost cause, renewing his oath of loyalty to King Edward I (Stephen Dillane) at the behest of his father (James Cosmo), grudgingly submitting to subservience to Edward in exchange for the Scottish crown being promised to his family. Spurred on by the public outrage at Wallace’s torture, dismemberment, and execution, however, Robert goes back on his decision and is soon in open rebellion. He has few allies and limited manpower, but a few stand up to join him, including his loyal right-hand Angus MacDonald (Tony Curran), the vengeful noble James Douglas (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), whose family was stripped of its lands and title, and Robert’s strong-minded wife Elizabeth de Burgh (Florence Pugh), who vows to stand by his side. Needless to say, this new rebellion doesn’t sit well with the king, who dispatches his son Prince Edward (Billy Howle) and his military commander Aymer de Valence (Sam Spruell) to crush the uprising by any means necessary.

Outlaw King is technically well-crafted and engaging enough to serve as a worthwhile companion piece to Braveheart for those curious about “the rest of the story” of what happened after Wallace’s death, but it lacks the grand scope and narrative drive of Gibson’s epic, and there are times when the pace drags. This final cut differs from the version shown at the Toronto Film Festival in that Mackenzie has “tightened up” the film by removing about twenty minutes, and there are times when the pacing and editing feels a little choppy and some characters and plot elements feel underdeveloped. The thinly-developed characters and the superficial way in which politics are whisked through make it a little hard to keep supporting characters straight, and among the crowd of bearded, dirty rebel Scots, no one really emerges as a distinct figure apart from Robert himself and his wife Elizabeth (the only significant female role onhand). Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s bloodthirsty and vengeful Douglas gets one brief standout sequence, where he massacres English soldiers—at prayer in church, no less—with savage ferocity. Our main “villain” Prince Edward is mostly one-dimensional and overplayed by Billy Howle in such manic, scenery-chewing fashion that he borders on cartoonish (it’s hard to say whether this portrayal of Prince Edward is better or worse than the version of him in Braveheart, where he was a foppish effeminate weakling who reeked of an outdated and homophobic gay caricature). On the positive side, the movie does an immersive job transporting us back to the time period in gritty and unromanticized fashion; everyone gets caked in mud and blood, and the spartan, chilly castles onhand are not glamorous. There are several well-choreographed battle sequences in which the camera does not shy away from graphic violence, as well as an equally frank sex scene between Chris Pine and Florence Pugh. The movie was filmed on location in Scotland, and the rugged setting enhances the sense of verisimilitude. The final twenty-five minutes or so are when Outlaw King kicks fully into high gear, with a rousing climactic battle sequence on par with what we might see in Braveheart or Game of Thrones.

Chris Pine plays against the cocky but dashing Captain Kirk behind a greying beard and a mostly credible Scottish accent, although the stoic Robert doesn’t make for as charismatic or dynamic a protagonist as Mel Gibson’s William Wallace. The charm Pine has shown in other roles has been submerged behind Robert’s somewhat dour personality, leaving him not particularly exciting as our hero. Apart from Pine, the cast includes no “stars” but a few familiar faces, including Aaron Taylor-Johnson as the angry and vengeful James Douglas, Tony Curran as Robert’s faithful right hand Angus MacDonald, Sam Spruell (a familiar “loathsome henchman” type) as the British military commander Valence, and James Cosmo in a small early role as Robert’s ailing father (not a leper in this version and more conflicted and less villainous than he was portrayed in Braveheart). Another Game of Thrones alum Stephen Dillane is the stern King Edward I (not straying very far from Stannis Baratheon), but the most prominent “villain” is a scenery-chewing Billy Howle as his son Prince Edward, portrayed as a cruel but insecure wannabe warrior driven by Daddy issues (this version, eager to take the battlefield and dealing out brutal treatment almost as willy nilly as Jason Isaacs’ cartoonishly evil Colonel Tavington in The Patriot, is quite the contrast from the effeminate twit he was depicted as in Braveheart apart from still being the object of his father’s scorn, and no reference is made to his sexuality). The standout is fresh face Florence Pugh, who makes the most of a limited role, presenting Elizabeth de Burgh as strong, intelligent, and independent, and her dynamic with Robert, an arranged marriage warming into genuine love and affection, is the most effectively-realized—albeit somewhat underwritten—relationship onhand.

One should come into Outlaw King with tempered expectations; it’s no Braveheart, but it mostly fulfills its more modest aims, muddy and bloody and not skimping on medieval battle scenes, even if it leaves less to connect with regarding its underdeveloped characters and a somewhat choppy narrative. It’s an interesting enough companion piece to be worth a curious look, even if it won’t go down in cinematic history in its own right.

* * 1/2