King of Maidens: review of the film "The Legend of the Green Knight"
Dev Patel, giants and talking foxes in a loose adaptation of an Arthurian legend by David Lowry, author of Ghost Story.
Even before the release, The Legend of the Green Knight was captivated by expectations: premieres are being postponed, local souvenirs from the fields of horror and slowburners are less and less in the field of attention, and therefore fans of Ari Astaire (Solstice) and Robert Eggers (Lighthouse) put all their hopes on the new film by David Lowry (author of the melancholic Ghost Story) and in absentia brought down a flurry of love on him. Titles are the guarantor of the Order of Honor: the name of the director, an unusual role for the talented artist Dev Patel, and the plate of the A24 studio, which has released almost two-thirds of successful independent films over the past ten years. All this, coupled with rave reviews from the foreign press (with this text we wholeheartedly join them) became the components of the film's myth. Which, in part, can serve as an evil fate of an overestimated bar of requirements, and on the other hand, it seems to be part of Lowry's plan: "legends will never die" - the slogan of the film says, and the picture has already acquired its own.
It is the search for one's own history that becomes the trigger of the plot: at the Christmas dinner, Sir Gawain (Dev Patel) sits down next to King Arthur to hear the unpleasant truth - as long as the youngster can only talk about victories in a brothel, he will not become a knight. The opportunity to prove masculinity will appear as if by magic: right in the middle of the celebration, the Green Knight will burst into the hall and challenge the one who dares to draw a sword to a duel. The rules are simple - hit for hit. The owner strikes first, and a year later in the Green Chapel on Christmas Day, he will receive an answer from a magical tree-faced wanderer. With youthful absurdity, Gawain cuts off his head from his shoulders - the knight is not at all embarrassed by this attack, he saddles his horse and goes home, reminding him of this promise.
What happens next seems to be not a terrible secret: you can read the legend from the King Arthur cycle, retell it to your seatmate in the auditorium even in the opening credits, or watch previous adaptations: for example, the 1984 film by Stephen Wicks, where Sir Sean played the Green Knight Connery. True, as obvious as the content of the legend is, it is just as reckless to expect David Lowry to blindly follow the letter of the scripture - he stumbled upon the legend while still in college, and since then Gawain has not let go of the author's thoughts. The marriage of form and content happened out of great love: the Arthurian saga seems to fall by itself on the restrained passages of the slowburner - the hand of director David Lowry never wavered. Sir Gawain, having secured the blessing of the witch mother (Sarita Chowdhry played the fairy Morgana), sets off a year later: the painful slumber of the road to death becomes tangible - the earth, sand, grass and even the air around have their own taste, smell and color (of course, green - all 555 shades are on the screen, from emerald to terry mold). Amidst the rampage of this British chthoni with a talking fox (a conscious nod to Lars von Trier's "Antichrist"), giants, sorceresses and other motley bestiaries, Sir Gawain faces a magical and non-magical dilemma at the same time: to disassemble masculinity into atoms and decide where is cowardice and where is prudence.
The legend becomes a nurturing novel, where the journey becomes a test of the wanderer's masculinity and maturity. Gawain calls himself a knight with bold vehemence (though only when it suits him), but the young man's actions indicate otherwise. Warriors sung by courtly novels, in addition to chain mail and strength, readiness to sacrifice their lives for the king and lady of the heart, are also distinguished by a set of virtues, whether it be religious faith, courtesy or loyalty to a given word (in the common people, ancient wisdom sounds like “you have to answer for the bazaar”). Tests of strength and have to pass Gawain: over and over again, he crashes. In the campaign, he is led at the same time by a blunted sense of duty and overheated arrogance - you can return from a journey as a hero worthy of the throne of Camelot (Arthur is no longer young, but there are no heirs). Puppet shows are already being composed about his feat in the squares, and his beloved maiden is waiting at home: however, in the barn, and not on the royal bed - another test, now of the sincerity of feelings on the social abyss. Encountering a woodland thief who is far from Robin Hood in his thoughts (a masterfully played cameo by Barry Keoghan), shelter at the Lord (powerful Joel Edgerton) and carnal passion for his wife (like her beloved at home, she is played by Alicia Vikander) again and again reveal Gawain as a cowardly, petty person and, in general, far from those very chivalrous ideals sung in ancient times (Patel is as good as ever in this role). The pursuit of the title and honor closer to the final turns into a once-in-a-lifetime decision. His story is already on the lips - only a choice separates from returning as a winner: to give up and compose or go to the end and become famous for the truth.
Perhaps, in the sensitive field of today, where gender conventions are endlessly revised, dissected and comprehended in other registers, Laurie's morality will sound too traditional and even old-fashioned, as befits a novel about knights: nobility has not lost its value. But at the same time, the director is rather interested in the difference between word and deed, the desire to position oneself in the media space (for example, the medieval media space) and the ability to live up to the declared title. The Legend of the Green Knight fits into a range of rather different films about young people who seek to defend the authorship of their story, whether it's bushranger Ned Kelly from Justin Kurzel's True History of the Kelly Gang or even Jo March from Greta Gerwig's adaptation of Little Women. Becoming the author and owner of your own word is the only way to life and even immortality: "legends do not die," as we remember.
This optics, tuned to the look and word of the hero, suggests that Sir Gawain is a narrator, in general, unreliable: probably there were no foxes, no giants, no battle, and in the young man's imagination all the women he loved are the same - Alicia Vikander. But what is even more entertaining and provides a loophole for interpretations of the final is magic (if you are afraid of spoilers, be afraid of our further reasoning). King Arthur (Sean Harris) tells Gawain that the contest is just a game, don't get too serious. And, probably, the path, riddled with the drama of accepting one's fate, is nothing more than a test set up by the witch mother (Morgana's role in the narrative is the most mysterious and ambiguous). One way or another, the circle of growing up closed in the finale: Sir Gawain shook off the mold from his armor and thoughts, stopped being afraid of the future, and yet (in spite of or thanks to) turned into a legend on the lips of others. It seems that this is exactly what David Lowry wanted.
This article was sponsored by Candace Mammarella
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