The Robin Hood legend reimagined as grim cinematic endurance test wasn’t on my bingo card. Michael Sarnoski’s moribund and self-satisfied The Death of Robin Hood (D) inexplicably deconstructs and reimagines the titular outlaw as a violent, aging man grappling with his past who finds a chance at redemption through a woman and child. As the lead character, and an antihero to be sure, Hugh Jackman plays against type in nearly every way, including gruesomely killing animals and children in a first act feast of carnage then spending most of the film’s remainder bedridden. He’s committed, I suppose, to the role. Jodie Comer and Bill Skarsgård play underdeveloped supporting characters who make little impression. The prolonged tone poem comprising most of the film’s duration may confound all but the most ardent fans of this myth. This revisionist twist on a classic tale was so far removed from its usual tropes that it might have been just as effective as “the slow death of any old violent mean man.” There are flickers of interesting film composition in this Middle Ages melodrama , and the vocal song over the closing credits made for a nice ditty as our group continued to discuss, slackjawed, what exactly we just watched. If viewers are like me, they will feel equally robbed of rich summer fun time given to the poor souls inhabiting this dim dirge.