![]() ![]() Having spent a lovely day purchasing Scottish Clan paraphernalia from the tartan shop in Gretna Green (had to see where Jane Austen’s runaway couples were escaping to), we were far too lazy to walk up the hilly landscape to get to the tree, so, first mistake: we took a short cut along a path winding along the hillside. (Just saying.)Ī couple of days later we decided to walk back to the tree so that Yvonne could share in the poignancy of visiting so worthy a landmark, and have her moment basking in the ambience of celebrity foliage. The final nail was bashed into the coffin when a sweet old tour guide on our bus trip home stated, ‘And I am sure I do not need to inform you about the famous tree on your right.’ It’s not like we didn’t tell her-magnanimously. But (ha) she was proved oh-so-wrong after hearing a plethora of excited comments from fellow adventurers trekking along the wall. There is an old wall in the scene (Hadrian’s wall) that Robin Hood skips down as Azeem kneels to pray and…blah-blah-etcetera-etcetera. ![]() As Mr Hood and his new friend cross over Locksley land, they encounter a boy in a tree ( the tree) who is trying to save himself from the Sheriff of Nottingham’s bloodthirsty minions, and their dogs. What Robin Hood Tree you may ask? Cast your brain matter back to the beginning of the film when Robin of Locksley and his friend Azeem (Morgan Freeman) have escaped captivity and arrived back in England after fighting in the Crusades. ![]() It was a huge moment (and I revelled in it) but Yvonne just didn’t believe us … so, in fact, she was the cause of all the trouble that was soon to follow. Coming from South Africa, this tree was the closest thing to a celebrity that I had ever encountered. There it was standing in all its glory next to the historical aura of Hadrian’s Wall in Northumberland. Even Zanin (who vaguely tolerates my obsession) knew. I knew it was the Robin Hood tree as soon as I saw it. ![]() With this context in mind, you can imagine the thrill of holidaying up in the north of England with Zanin and our friend Yvonne (visiting from SA) and stumbling upon what we now fondly refer to as “The Robin Hood Tree”. As an adult I prefer a dark twist in a film that exposes life’s penchant for chaos and yet I think perhaps there is a part of me that defies this dog-eat-dog world with an unashamed yearning for the days when life was simple, with its fairytale endings and easy romances-and Kevin Costner’s bad accent lights the way to this dreamland. The romance of it the castles, the crusades, the villain (Alan Rickman at his evil best) overcome by the hero and the love story. I saw Robin Hood at the cinema with my cousins, my brothers and mom and uncle-so, big screen experience and I was probably underage (my brothers definitely were and I think my mom, who went in blindly, felt bad afterwards… that witch and when she scrapes her disgusting long yellow nail in that bowl of blood. I can’t say exactly why but I think something to do with its relative grandiosity. This is curious to me because uh… what accent? He’s American and he sounded…um American. Then I realised: perhaps his complete lack of Nottinghamshire Northern English or whatever version Robin Hood is supposed to have spoken is the problem. In fact, on this very afternoon, I was listening to Radio X whilst driving my kids to an afterschool art lesson and, as well as a great story about some killer whales bullying a great white shark off the coast in South Africa, the DJ was talking about the worst accents in film history, and how low and behold Kevin Costner’s accent in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is number one on the list. Oh baby! It was whilst visiting uncle Stuart that I was introduced to what became the Kensington of films in my life-the one I go to, to both forget and also remember. ![]()
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