Sherwood Forester

Issue 12

December 2006

A very warm welcome to our twelfth issue.  We hope that you all had an enjoyable  Christmas and have prepared your new year resolutions.

Our cover image comes from the episode Trial by Battle which is the subject of this issue's episode review from Tony Wait. 

Richard Greene on Robin Hood

We have all heard the story of how Archie saves some children on the set from a runaway horse - here it is in pictures.

More from "The Ladies of Sherwood". 

“It was the size of the potential audience that finally made me decide to do Robin Hood.  I had made up my mind I was not going to do any more costume roles.”

“He was an outlaw, as were so many others who could not pay their taxes.  He was a yeoman, a natural leader and a shrewd and popular figure.  There is no mention of him as a knight or an earl until more than 200 years later.  Nor is there any mention of Maid Marian.  It was the troubadours and storytellers who embroidered and exaggerated his exploits into the stuff of legend.”

“I can express myself in Robin Hood more than I ever thought possible.  When I started I looked upon it as a prison sentence.  I never thought I could learn anything.  I just thought I’d do the job and get through it and say thank you very much at the end.  But as it went on and on, I really got to love Robin, his sense of humour, his heroism.  He became my ideal hero and helped me to lose a lot of bad habits I’d got into in Hollywood.  Actingwise, Robin helped me to achieve a greater sense of relaxation than I’ve ever known before.  I can’t wait to apply what I have learned through Robin Hood on other things.  Mind you, it hasn’t changed me really.  I mean I don’t go home and think I am Robin Hood or anything like that.”

“Robin Hood can’t go on forever, I suppose.  After four years I really ought to be quitting, but if they ask me to do some more I’ll probably agree.  Strange as it may seem, I’m not bored with Robin Hood.  The variety of the series has been tremendous, not too mention its financial advantages.”

“Before I started Robin Hood I considered the dangers of being tied to a series.  This sort of thing can kill an actor, but luckily the series turned out to be a huge success.  I’d have been a fool to have backed out after that.  I see no reason why I can’t leave Robin Hood behind and go back to being a feature film actor.”

“I was never the super fit Robin people made out.  I never swung through the trees, but I did climb the odd branch to get a vantage point.  The most tiring action was the sword fights.”

“A new generation – several generations, in fact – know me only as Robin Hood.  But I have done one or two more challenging roles in my life – including Coriolanus on TV in New York.”

“I have no regrets, I made a lot of money and had a piece of the action.  I don’t blame people still identifying me as Robin but I wish they’d remember that I didn’t begin with him.”

Compiled by Anna and Lucy from various press interviews (1950s -1970s)

Archie Duncan

Hero in real life

Selected close-ups of the above scroll, including signatures and doodles: -

The following is a description of the above image from Alison Pritchard, Archie Duncan’s great-niece: -
 
“Although not old enough to remember watching the 1950s series of Robin Hood, I have a personal connection to the programmes in that my great uncle was Archie Duncan who played the part of Little John.  After his death I inherited what I now consider to be a fascinating piece of television history.  It takes the form of a goodwill message sent to him by cast and crew following the injury he sustained while filming an episode in series one.  The message is presented, in verse, on parchment type paper measuring  37cm by 66cm.  It's  composed in medieval style language and calligraphy, describing with humour life behind the scenes, as well as the administrative chaos which must have ensued after the incident in which Archie held on to a bolting horse.  The item has a collection of about 35 signatures on it.  These include those of Richard Greene, Bernadette O' Farrell,  Victor Woolfe, Alexander Gauge and John C George.  It also clearly shows the name 'Katherine W' who was I presume the American director.  In the bottom right hand corner is an ancient looking wax seal, and scattered around are several doodles.  These   include one of Archie being carried off on a stretcher as well as one of a harassed looking producer tearing his hair out!
 
It's evident that during the making of this series a great deal of warmth, fun and camaraderie existed between those involved and that Archie was held in affection by everyone.  I feel proud to own this item which allows his memory to live on.
 
Thanks to the careful record keeping of  my mother (Marion McClements) who is Archie's niece, we also have a newspaper article (Daily Express, October 20th 1955) reporting Archie's subsequent legal action against his employers Sapphire Films.  In it the dramatic accident is described and one is left in no doubt as to the heroic nature of his actions which led to him being awarded the Queens Commendation medal for bravery.  He was successful in the court case and was awarded £1,360 in damages.  He is quoted as saying "I keep as far away from horses now as I possibly can."  And, to the best of my knowledge, he did just that!”

Our thanks go to Alison for making these images available.

Memories

The Shadowy Black and White Archer

The electronic world of game-boys and playstations was decades away when as a young lad I sat in the armchair clutching my two and sixpenny Robin Hood book from Woolworths. I can remember carefully closing it, catching a glimpse of the brightly coloured cover, and then staring across the sunlit room at the rented television in the corner. It was a warm Saturday afternoon. The ITV wrestling had finished and the football results were over and after the advertisements ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ were about to start.

The music began, the shadowy black and white archer drew his bow and once again this youngster was transported to a world of adventure, loyalty and the search for justice. As the programme finished, the titles rolled by, and the familiar theme song was sang. So began a race with my brother down the glimmering sunlit garden, past the apple and pear trees to our Sherwood Forest, where stinging nettles and dustbin lids were always close at hand.

Our trusting parents would often let my brother and me along with some friends’ camp in our Sherwood. We soon discovered, of course, that the outdoor life isn’t quite as romantic as portrayed on the screen, with strange eerie noises in the inky darkness and the moles scratching around the canvas tent. The roasted king’s venison became baked beans, half cooked eggs and burnt sausages. But, like the bright stars in the night sky above us, my enthusiasm for the legend never faded.

A few years later the black and white adventures were transformed into glorious Technicolor as I saw Walt Disney’s ‘Story of Robin Hood’ at our local ‘flea-pit’ for the first time. Now a teenager I fell hopelessly in love with Joan Rice as Maid Marian. But something else stirred that day and that was my interest in the history behind the legend. Names used in the film like Fitzooth, Huntington and Locksley would, I thought naively, be able to guide me to the original green-clad outlaw. But, of course the search for the elusive fugitive was never going to be as simple as that!

It was during an hour’s lunch break at Art College,  eagerly thumbing through the history books on the dusty shelves in the library that I suddenly came across a bold black wooden engraving from Wynken de Worde’s ‘Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode’. It was an illustration included with an article on Joseph Hunter’s famous research and discoveries of a Robert and Matilda Hood in the Wakefield Court Rolls. I was engrossed and since that day I have continued to collect historical books and gather information on Robin Hood like a manic magpie.

So it had been ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ that opened the gate in the wall to a path through the rich tapestry of history that surrounds the outlaw’s legend. A winding historical investigation that took me to the costumed folk of the merry May dancers, the Latin court rolls of the British Isles and the work of the medieval minstrels. At the end I was left with a hunting sack full of Robin Hoods. None of which can positively be identified as the ‘originator’ of the legend. But it has been and still remains a fascinating journey.

Perhaps I had already found the ‘real’ Robin Hood, many years before I had taken that journey through the dense forest of time. Richard Greene was Robin Hood. The television series may have been in black and white but the spirit in which it was made glows like a golden sunset down the years.

Now with this appreciation society and the DVD’s available, future generations will discover the warmth of the series. The flickering glow from Richard Greene’s campfire in Sherwood will hopefully guide future generations along the path of justice and loyalty and show the power of good over evil. Maybe, also stir an interest and pride in our island’s fascinating history. 

Tony Wait

I must confess to my dreams of yesteryear when everything seemed simpler.  It was a time when people knew they had to care for one another to survive.  As many adventures of Robin portray, it was a time when a person's word was their bond.  It was also a time of close and dependable relationships.  People could hunt without endangered species or receive grievances from any animal rights group - where one could fish and drink from steams without factory pollutants.  Of course, I don't especially want to relate to dental or medical applications during Robin's time, but there was a sense of freedom and beauty then that only strange people like us wish we could experience again.

The other alluring trait of Robin which I appreciated was his sense of justice.  He was portrayed as a Sherlock Holmes of his day who could use the elements of disguise and surprise to baffle the enemy and outwit the evil-doer in plot and deed.  Robin was a man who chose to use commando-like cunning instead of all out brutality to achieve his goal, and all the while he maintained a strong sense of moral character and a sense of humour.  He was one who cared for the welfare of others as to balance the imbalances.  The episodes provided lessons of decency, optimism, and humour for children, such as myself, at the time.

Yes, I confess to being a fan of the era and the dream, but I see, as you probably do, a comparison between the ways of men then, and the similarities of their behaviour now.  Though I grieve at mankind's shortcomings, I am grateful for those who acted in and produced this series, for they had vision of teaching worthy principles to give to others, especially children.  Through Robin, we learned to face difficulties with seriousness blended with a touch of lightness.

Here's to Robin, his legend, and to those of us who appreciate his goodness and grace.  Probably most of all, here's to the courage of the real people who had enough foresight and bravery to bring children, such as myself, the heroes and heroines for us and future generations to emulate and, hopefully, make the world a better place.  To all, my thanks.

Stan Kern

Trial by Battle

“Maid Marian is doomed to hang,

Brave knights it seems are all too few,

Of course it’s Robin Hood at last,

Who proves her champion true.”

We journey with Friar Tuck on his obstinate ass into Sherwood Forest and to the outlaws’ camp. He is absolutely furious about being left out of Robin’s confidence and upon hearing his plans to ambush the King’s Commissioner at Pilgrims Cross Roads from the gossiping regulars of the Blue Boar Tavern.  

At the camp in the greenwood, Maid Marian confirms that the King’s Commissioner is due to arrive at Nottingham Castle to examine the accounts of the shire. But Robin is as surprised as Friar Tuck to hear this ‘rumour’. So the outlaw band set off to the crossroads to ‘make sure the right outlaw’s way-lay the King’s Commissioner.’  

As Robin and his band witness the melee through the trees, they soon realise that this is no ‘honest robbery’, but murder their laying on their heads. The outlaws join the fight to protect the Commissioner and a swordfight ensues between Robin and Sir Gyles of Wren.

Upon hearing this character’s name, I was immediately drawn to the ancient ballad of ‘Robin and Gandelyn’. The subject of this mysterious and eerie poem is the traditional New Year’s hunting of the wren, called Wrennock of Donne, in vengeance of the robin murdered at midsummer. Coincidence?

Sir Gyles of Wren wounds Robin and he stumbles against a rock, luckily Little John intervenes with his quarter staff and drives the evil knight away. The King’s Commissioner identifies Robin Hood and the distinguished guest is taken to the outlaws’ camp.

With birds chirping merrily in the trees, Marian, Robin (with his left arm in a sling) and his men sit with their invited guest at the feasting table in the greenwood. I couldn’t help noticing the eye contact between Robin and Marian during the scene when King’s Commissioner refuses to consume the royal venison and drink the wine. To Little John and Friar Tuck’s astonishment the guest explains the biological effect to the stomach and digestion this food can have. To which Friar Tuck rather squeamishly asks for a scrap of dried bread.

“I carry my own diet,” said the Commissioner and brought out a bag of eggs and nuts. So when he is asked to pay his way, he firmly refuses, grabbing his sword, saying he ‘will give up not one jot of the king’s property, certainly not to outlaws!’

Robin, now assured of the Commissioners determination to defend the monarch’s interests with his life, orders his men to accompany him back to his horse.   “Now I begin to see why Sir Gyles could contemplate murder!” said Marian.  “He’s too honest to be long in Nottingham Castle,” said Robin who then asks Marian, as she is going to have her accounts read, to keep a watchful eye on him. But Marian is concerned about leaving Robin with a serious wound to his upper chest.  Robin, after giving Marian a reassuring kiss warns her to take a dagger for her own protection.

Within the grey shadowy walls of Nottingham Castle, Sir Gyles of Wren and the Sheriff are deep in conversation.   “No! I will not risk everything to correct your blundering stupidity, blusters the Sheriff.  “Don’t stir your bile, Sheriff”, growls Sir Gyles, “he’s got to go one way or another.” But the Sheriff, who is obviously involved in the plot to kill the King’s Commissioner, is concerned about ‘the shadow of suspicion.’ Marian, meanwhile, is following the Commissioner’s every move and when she offers to fill his flagon his frustration boils over. Sir Gyles then intervenes with:   “Commissioners of the Exchequer get over sensitive about poison, you baggage*!” (*An unusual term that was used in Romeo and Juliet: ‘Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch.’ Capulet to Juliet Act 3 Scene 5).

This abusive term used at Lady Marian, angers the rather foppish Sir Walter of the Glen (played by Nicholas Parsons). But Sir Gyles dismisses Sir Walter’s anger. “Any knighthood or womanhood that can’t stomach my language, I’d have my doubts about, particularly a minx that uses a dagger at her girdle. Afraid of the Sheriff, my girl?”

Sir Gyles then moves behind Marian and in front of Sir Walter. He carefully places his arms around her and sneeringly says, “Maybe you’re planning to do the Commissioner in at that, eh?” While Sir Walter protests, Sir Gyles, holding Maid Marian closely, slyly slips her dagger out of its scabbard.

The Sheriff intervenes, apologising to the Commissioner (who is beginning to show signs of a heavy cold) for the unrest, and suggests he puts off reading the documents till tomorrow. But he insists on being conducted to the room containing the shire accounts.

Sir Walter touchingly attempts to comfort the Lady Marian after her treatment by Sir Gyles. But Marian is preoccupied by the sudden disappearance of the evil knight whom she suddenly sees making his way up the torch lit steps towards the Commissioner’s room. So in a moment of panic she rushed up the winding castle stairs, through the open door, into his room, only to find the poor man lying dead by the fireplace.

Her beautiful face is frozen with shock as she suddenly realises her ornate dagger is missing and as she attempts to remove it from the Commissioner’s back the booming vice of Sir Gyles is heard.   “Hold!”   The Lady Marian froze with the dagger in her hand. Sir Gyles, Sir Walter and the Sheriff then entered the room.   “How could you!” barked Sir Gyles. “You’re inhuman. How could you kill this poor little man?”

The Sheriff immediately jumps to Marian’s defence, astonished that Sir Gyles could accuse the Lady of such a thing. But the evil knight points out that Marian was removing her dagger from the Commissioner’s back. He then threatened the Sheriff that if he didn’t report this, he would inform Prince John of ‘a few other matters he would be interested to hear.’

So reluctantly the Sheriff orders Lady Marian Fitzwalter to stand trial before her peers for the murder of the Commissioner of the King’s Exchequer. The first half of the episode finishes with a close up the beautiful Marian looking frightened and very vulnerable.

Gathered in a rather cramped shadowy courtroom, Sir Gyles informed the jury how he witnessed Lady Marian drawing the dagger out of the Commissioner’s chest. She stood looking vulnerable, flanked closely by two armed guards and immediately replied, telling the members of the court how Sir Gyles had put his arms around her and stolen her dagger.

But the concerned Sheriff reminded her that there was no evidence that the dagger was ever stolen and that witnesses had established that the dagger was in her possession before the Commissioner had retired for the evening. When he then asked her why she had decided to wear such a weapon, she mistakenly revealed that she already knew that Sir Gyles had attempted to murder the commissioner once before.   Anxiously the Sheriff glanced at Sir Gyles and then lowered his voice and asked her where she had heard this information.  Realising what she had said Marian tried to cover her tracks by nervously saying that it must be Sir Gyles because he had succeeded in murdering the Commissioner in the castle.   Once more Lady Marian pleaded to the Sheriff that her dagger had been stolen.   “When did you notice its loss?” asked the Sheriff.   “When I drew it out I realised,” she replied.   “So you admit that you drew out the dagger!”   There was silence and then the Sheriff rose to his feet…..   “Milords," Marian interrupts," I can read my judgement and doom on your faces, but I will not be hanged on the word of a murderer. I challenge Sir Gyles to defend the truth of his cause, in trial by battle.”   “So be it!” announced the apparently relieved Sheriff. “By the Moot Court of Nottinghamshire, that Sir Gyles of Wren will meet the champion of Marian Fitzwater in trial by battle one week hence from this day!”

In her cell, Marian is visited by Friar Tuck, who in a hushed voice informs her that she can’t rely on Robin because his wound had not healed. Marian breaks down:   “I expect I always counted on Robin, without knowing it. You take it for granted he will be there if you need him. I felt so brave, but now I am frightened.”  In desperation Friar Tuck visits Sir Walter, but he had been recently ambushed by four knights who had broken his legs. His next visit was the Lord of Drune, who admitted to the Friar of selling his soul to the Devil. His lands would be forfeit if he defended the Lady Marian.   Back at the camp, an anxious Friar Tuck tells the outlaws the grave news around the flickering campfire. Robin lying on his sick bed overhears this and weakly staggers to his feet. He awkwardly removes his blanket and slips unnoticed out the camp.

The drum beats menacingly slowly as the Lady Marian is led from her cell towards the long black shadow of the executioner. She suddenly sees her accuser, who sneeringly asks her, “Frightened, girl?  No champion? I hear there is a plague of palsy in the knee among the flower of knighthood!”   A desperately concerned Sheriff tells Marian he hasn’t slept for a week with worry. He advises her to confess her guilt and she will only lose her lands and live under house arrest as his prisoner.   “Marian,” he pleads, “I claim to be no better than the evil times we live in, but I am no worse. Would marriage to me be so harsh a sentence?”  “When I am married,” she replied, “I will be bound to my husband with something stronger than chains!”

With the shadow of the executioner behind him, the Sheriff announces to a gathering, consisting of some ashamed and embarrassed knights that he will call for Lady Marian’s Champion three times before divine providence.  Disguised as a pilgrim, a worried Little John informs Friar Tuck that Robin had visited an apothecary during the evening and when told to lie down had gone off.

On the third and final call, to Marian’s surprise, a rustic appeared from the crowd and announced himself as Hugh son of Tom, freeman and freeholder on the land of Fitzwalter. As he approaches her she eventually sees through his disguise and realises it is Robin. Marian tells ‘Hugh’ that she can’t allow him to fight as she had heard he had been ill. But the rustic replies, “Sickness of the body can be cured, but sickness of the heart, to let you die without raising my hand, I could never endure.” So a relieved Marian, with a sparkle in her eye announces her acceptance of her new found champion.

Robin, with his left arm almost motionless, eventually manages to back Sir Gyles into a wood pile and with superb swordsmanship flicks the murderer’s sword from his hands. Sir Gyles immediately cries craven.   The Sheriff’s face can not hide his relief.   “Lady Marian,” he announces, “You are now free and innocent before Heaven and man.” There is much rejoicing, but Robin’s weakness shows through and he begins to stumble. But help is at hand as the disguised outlaws rush to his aid and he is led away.

This wonderful episode ends in a similar way to the final scene in Walt Disney’s ‘Story of Robin Hood’, where Robin is held down on his sick bed and he is forced to eat some broth from a wooden spoon by the determined Maid Marian.

A superb episode.

A review by Tony Wait

“THE INQUISITOR” – WIT, WISDOM, TRUTH, AND THE VOICE….

Marian:  There is so much to be discovered in viewing these episodes and sharing our thoughts – I have no recollection of “The Inquisitor”, I think this is an amazing and poignant story. They say that “the truth will set you free”, and indeed the truth is what sets Robin and Friar Tuck free.

The dramatic opening scene of a frantic Marian trying to reach our dear Friar to warn him of impending danger - the Archbishop is arriving from France and the Sheriff and the Abbot want to silence Friar Tuck, to stop him from revealing to the Archbishop the plight of the peasants, so brutally treated under the helm of Prince John and the tyranny of the Sheriff.  Unable to conceal Friar Tuck, who is arrested and taken away to the Priory dungeon, Marian takes flight to Sherwood Forest, as she often does, to the arms of her love, her champion, and the one person she knows will always be there for her.

Marian arrives in Sherwood Forest as Little John is giving Robin a haircut.  I wondered how they trimmed their hair, very amusing scene; Little John makes a better outlaw than a barber!  Robin is preparing to visit the Archbishop – “I don’t have to be a fop to have an audience with the Archbishop”!  I thought the haircut looked realistic – I observed his locks of hair on a towel he had around his neck.

Robin tells Little John of his plans to save Friar Tuck – Little John is in favor of using force, but Robin cautions, “No violence, use your wits instead.”  I think the writers in their wit and wisdom often gave the inherent message of using wit over violence.  Robin Hood was never portrayed in a violent manner, he was gallant, chivalrous and benevolent, but the times he lived in lent credence to his taking up his bow and sword. 

“A poor workman always blames his tools”, that’s how Little John gets the Priory cook’s attention – what follows is a slapstick comedy between the cook and Little John.  The little cook holds his own against Little John and in the end he accomplished what he set out to do – he’s in the kitchen and knows where Friar Tuck is being held prisoner.  Robin manages to enter the Priory in a wine barrel, funny scene where Robin is hidden in the wine barrel and starts talking to Little John, followed by Friar Tuck, asleep; he awakens to a walking and talking wine barrel!  I thought it amusing when Friar Tuck is warning Robin the guards are coming and points to the direction that Robin should go and Robin walks off in the opposite direction.

Friar Tuck is now taken to “The Inquisitor”, where there are men and means to break him and make him confess to being in league with Robin Hood.  Why do the torturers have no shirts on while they are torturing?  I noticed that same scene in “Maid Marian” when they bring in the torturer and he doesn’t have a shirt on.

The grandiose Sheriff is relentless in expounding to the Archbishop about the Abbot and himself; he has that smug, “aren’t I wonderful” look as he speaks to the Archbishop, who looks totally bored and annoyed with the Sheriff.  While the sheriff is annoying the Archbishop, Friar Tuck tells “The Inquisitor”, a hooded mysterious person with a strange voice, that he’s ready to confess.  Robin manages to overpower “The Inquisitor” and takes his place.  The scene is set, the Holy Archbishop and the spurious Abbot, ready to hear Friar Tuck’s confession.  The hooded figure comes forth to read the declaration, and I was immediately mesmerized by his voice.  You could not see any expression, but there was no need to, this amazing and powerful voice, it was music to my ears.  The declaration started out as a confession but then, to the surprise of everyone, Robin delivered the powerful message of all the wrongs that the outlaws are trying desperately to right – all the evils that Prince John inflicts on the people.  The Abbot shouts that he is an impostor and demands the guards arrest him, as he is being dragged away this loud and amazing voice shouts “Long Live King Richard and confusion to his enemies.”  The Archbishop wants to see the face of this man.  As the hood is pulled off of him the Abbot recoils - it is Robin Hood; he immediately wants him arrested and taken away with Friar Tuck to the Sheriff.  The kind and wise Archbishop intervenes and says he will take them back to Canterbury.  On the road to Canterbury the Archbishop diverts the guards to go off for a drink at which time he has Robin and Friar Tuck, to their amazement, untied.  He promises them that King Richard will hear the whole story.

The triumph of good over evil!  I thought the Archbishop seemed very gentle and holy, he was perfect for the part, he made you want to kneel down and kiss his ring.  He was a very wise and kind man, he could see through the façade of the Sheriff and the Abbot and see into the heart and soul of Robin Hood and all the good that he stood for.

That amazing, amazing voice…

Suzette:  I was impressed with Marian’s reflections on “The Inquisitor”, especially about the use of violence out of necessity – evil times.  It looks like Marian has given the subject some thought.  It made me think of Robin’s words in “The Infidel”:  “There’s more than one way to win a war, and more than one breed of people worthy of respect.”  No wonder someone said that “The Adventures” shaped his moral values...

Friar Tuck shows that he is a man of principle and integrity.  Tuck and Robin really have a lot in common, don’t you think?  Quite similar personalities – the serious side, and the sense of humour; intelligence, and – they both appreciate good food, I think...

The outlaws don’t seem to have a proper routine in the camp yet.  I’m sure they found better methods of cutting hair later on.

The fight in the kitchen always makes me laugh.  I think the idea of Little John getting a job in the kitchen came from one of the traditional ballads.

I’ve no idea why the torturers have no shirts on!  (It’s the same in the “Shadow of Eagle”). Does anybody know why?

I’ve got to mention my favourite scene!  I thought it was everyone’s favourite… It’s when Marian brushes the hair off of Robin’s tunic, and then – oh, this is just wonderful: she first blows gently on the back of his neck, and then - that gentle scratch, and he closes his eyes for a moment – like a cat…

And I like that tight black tunic very much…

The voice is something else.  How does he do it?  If you’ve seen “Lorna Doone”, you’ll know that Richard Greene as John Ridd reads out some comments on the action from time to time.  At the very beginning, he just says:  “Lorna Doone, a romance of Exmoor”; sends shivers down my spine.  Several people I talked to remarked on his “old-fashioned”, correct English accent, but no one remembered his voice, I can’t understand why.  It’s impossible to describe what’s so remarkable about it, but perhaps his voice is very slightly nasal, and he often sounds slightly out of breath.  I have a feeling that under that glamourous and self-assured exterior there was a lot of nervous tension.  I was going to say, “I’m talking about the actor, not the character”, but now I’m not so sure.  In the scene where the crowd of people is waiting for an audience with the Archbishop, someone asks Robin if he could write, and he offers to fill in a form for him, if he can join them on the way to Beresford Abbey.  Have you noticed that gesture – he puts his hand above his waist, and hold it there for a brief moment, pressing it down?  People do that sometimes as a subconscious attempt to calm down, when they are very tense.  I think this is amazing – how do actors know these things?  I suppose they observe other people, and – themselves.  Does this mean that actors try to remember their physical and emotional reactions in all sorts of situations, for future use?  I think Richard Greene was very perceptive as far as the physical reactions were concerned.  Yes, that’s it – a very “physical” way of acting.  Does this make sense?  Those little known aspects of acting suddenly fascinate me, no idea why…

Lady of Locksley:  Another lovely episode I think, and with one of my favourite scenes.  Suzette and I have talked about it before, and it still sends shivers down my spine - the haircut, of course.  I love the humor while Little John is busy hacking away at Robin’s locks, and as usual Robin is gently berating him.

Why do you think William asked the Friar’s help with his baby’s illness?  Were monks in general supposed to have medical knowledge, or was it just Friar Tuck?  He knew straight away that it wasn’t the plague, just a heat rash, but how?  Having read all the Brother Cadfael books (by Ellis Peters – set in King Stephen/Empress Maud’s time – early in the 12ths century), Cadfael was a cross between a pharmacist and a detective in his particular monastery, but I wonder if every monastery had a “medical man” too?

Suzette: I remember vaguely I read somewhere that monks practised medicine in the Middle Ages. The picture of medieval church is pretty accurate in “The Adventures”: it was very powerful, and very corrupt.  Many priests and monks were ignorant; they didn’t know Latin, or the Bible.  And many were not at all interested in spiritual matters – they just wanted to have an easy, pleasant life.  Anyone who dared criticise the corruption and ignorance (or disagree on matters of theology) was likely to be accused of heresy (or witchcraft - in case of women), and burnt at the stake – this went on for centuries, all over Europe.  And there were many reformers before Martin Luther, of course; many of them ended up tortured and executed.  Friar Tuck and Robin in “The Inquisitor” were a bit like those early “reformers” – Robin even said something about following the true Christian teaching in his speech. 

Lady of Locksley: Robin in the barrel was another very good scene.  Little John is often portrayed as a bit of a simpleton, and here he is quite puzzled at first by Robin’s voice seemingly coming from inside the barrel.  Yet in the kitchen scene prior to this, he used his wits to enter the castle (I think it was a castle anyway).  I agree that the slapstick humor was very funny with the cook.  I’m sure the children watching loved it.

I think the torturer probably had a bare chest because the act of torture would become hard work. Friar Tuck, Alfred Tuck, we learned in this episode, was only tortured for a moment before being set free, but the upright “rack” which was to stretch him, operated on pulleys and we saw the ropes being pulled with some strain.  Bearing in mind Tuck was hardly suffering at this point, his weight wasn’t really involved in the process, but had the torture gone on longer, I would imagine that pulling would have been difficult.  Well, that’s my theory anyway.

Robin looked so gorgeous in that dark tunic, and that lock of hair was falling on his forehead again.  Whoever did the casting did a very good job throughout the series I think, and I too thought the Archbishop came across as a very believable, gentle, holy man.  I bet he was glad to get away from the Sheriff and the very unholy Abbot of Beresford.  At least here were a few people still loyal to King Richard.

Memorabilia

We are always on the look out for various collectibles, and not just those found on the internet. 

"Cold cups".  Not heard this phrase here in the UK, but they look like paper cups.  Spotted by Lucy.