It’s no secret that Paul Greengrass is kind of a political sort. Even when tangling with blockbuster franchises such as the Bourne Saga, the sultan of shaky-cam always makes sure that his movies exercise their brains and morals along with their muscle and various desires to speak truth to power. However, I don’t think anyone was predicting Greengrass’ latest to take a shift back in history to cast a muddy eye over the Peasants’ Revolt that occurred in England way back in 1381 – but that’s exactly what he’s chosen to do, and he’s brought Andrew Garfield with him.
Settling somewhere around being a far bleaker (and certainly muddier) Braveheart that also saw a nobody defy the established order, can The Uprising manage to find worrying parallels between what went down all those centuries ago and the issues we find ourselves confronted with today? I guess Greengrass wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t give us a sinking feeling in the pit of our stomach that suggests that we’re all completely fucked.
The Black Death has passed, but that didn’t stop it from annihilating around half the population of England, and as the crown struggles to get the country back on its feet, the fourteen year-old King Richard II is far too inexperienced to stand against his council, who demands that he simply raise taxes. However, as the church or the merchant class are protected by the likes of the corrupt Sir Robert Hales and the Archbishop Sudbury, it falls to the peasantry to take on the financial load despite barely having enough for themselves.
As collectors sweep the land to take whatever they feel that the crown is owed, a ploughman who only introduces himself as “Ploughman” (fairly easy to remember) feels that enough is enough. Haunted by the deaths of his wife and child thanks to the plague seven years ago, he sees the injustice happening in the King’s name, decides he has nothing left to lose and assaults the tax collector, killing one of his soldiers as he does so. But he could never forsee that his act of defiance would not only spark the tinder of revolt in his own village, but stand as a sign that it’s time for others across the country to unite and take back the kingdom.
In no time at all, Ploughman knows the stress of accidently becoming important at work when he becomes something of an unofficial figurehead for a movement led by former soldier Wat Tyler and John Ball, a priest deemed a heretic for his belief that all people are fundamentally equal. As more and more people the length and breath of England join their cause and march on London, they hope that they can expunge a corrupt council away from the timid King’s ear, and ensure freedom for all men. However, this politics lark is a tricky old game, and if the group of Ploughman, Tyler and Ball play it wrong, the after effects will be felt across the country for centuries to come.
It’s certainly impressive that Greengrass has opted to tackle such a politically charged film, especially considering the fact that movies set in the abject misery of this particular era something of a hard sell to audiences, even if you have Andrew Garfield as your lead. However, it’s not exactly surprising that the director expends a sizable amount of effort to make things feel awfully, sickeningly, familiar as we watch the bewildered everyman look on in disbelief as the poor get poorer and the rich continue to dodge the financial responsibilities of the realm. It’s hardly subtle, but then I don’t think Greengrass gives much of a shit about treading lightly as he makes his point with all the heavy-handedness you’d expect from a medieval-set political thriller that intersperses speeches and marches with chopping, slicing and screaming.
So first the good points, and despite this film following on the heels of the similarly grim The Death Of Robin Hood, it’s a fair bet that there’s nothing else quite like this film around at the moment. While this is a tale of mud, mud, more mud and carts and castles, Greengrass ensures that even though there’s not an actual large amount of plot here, he shoots it with the urgency that you’d shoot a modern day uprising in a nation’s capital. To be fair, the majority of the film involves a lot of march and a lot of organising on the fly, but it’s fascinating to see Jamie Bell’s Ball Cosmo Jarvis’ Tyler and Thomasin McKenzie’s Alyce attempt to hold together a gargantuan uprising with just screaming and an impressive force of will. Among this we find Garfield’s Ploughman initially looking every inch a little worm on a big fucking hook; but as his character grows more savvy with the political leanings while still aiming to keep the uprising just, he starts to look and sound weirdly like Christian Bale circa his Reign Of Fire days.
While some might find the endless marching a little tiresome, it’s impressive how Greengrass is able to keep the uneasy feel of rage in the air, even when nothing much is happening and when it finally explodes, it’s every inch as devestating as you’d expect – especially when the sight of crazed peasants rioting in the streets could be ripped from the headlines of any number of incidents over the last ten years. While Garfield, Ball, Jarvis and MacKenzie rage for the greater good, we get Tom Hollander, Stephen Dillane and Jonny Lee Miller scheming in the quiter moments while Katherine Waterston’s Countess counter plots to free her quivering son from their advice, but while all do fine, solid work, The Uprising can’t help but sink into some iffy plotholes.
While such a story demands an understandably serious hand, the sheer onslaught of misery and despair is a little bit too choking at times and it also means that an odd, Robin Hood-esque coda feels like some misguided, scrambled attempt to tack on something approaching a happy ending. It’s not a bad experience by any means, but it’s unrelenting grimness ultimately just wears you down rather than stir you up. Even the extended scenes of tension as the uprising moves closer and closer to all out violence doesn’t even make it stand out too much, as Greengrass building political anxiety by ways of bubbling unrest is hardly a stretch for the veteran director to maintain and you might as well applaud Spielberg for including shots of spellbound characters looking in awe at something off-screen – it’s just what he does. Suitably nasty, grim and lacking in anything approaching hope (even that coda doesn’t elevate the misery that much), The Uprising is an admirable exercise, but making a fatalistic Braveheart proves to be too much of a scream into the void.
Crams in all the mud and blood that a politically charged, period piece demands, Greengrass goes hard on the abject misery and despair. But while there’s an argument to be made that the 1381 Peasants’ Revolt rightfully be bereft of whimsy and joy, The Uprising piles on the depression and hopelessness to such a degree, you can’t help but lose faith in mankind rather than use it as a call to arms.
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