The Uprising: A Medieval Mess of Misplaced Myth and Misguided Marketing

When History Meets the Shaky Cam

I've seen many films that attempt to bring the past to life, but few have gone as boldly wrong as Paul Greengrass's latest historical epic, The Uprising. It's not that the film lacks ambition — it does. But it also seems to lack a clear vision of what that ambition should look like.

Greengrass, who's known for his documentary-inspired style in films like Bloody Sunday and United 93, has applied his signature shaky-cam technique to the 14th-century Peasants' Revolt of 1381. The result is a film that feels less like a period drama and more like an early experiment in found footage cinema, shot with a handheld camera in the style of a 14th-century YouTube vlogger. While it's certainly not the first time Greengrass has attempted to bring historical figures to life, this one feels like a misstep — or worse, a marketing ploy that outlived its usefulness.

"Among medieval hand-held farming tools, the sickle is your best bet for reaping. It's also just the thing for deadly weaponry in times of a peasant revolt..."

That quote from the original review sets the tone perfectly — it's a wry observation about how the tools of agriculture become weapons in the hands of the oppressed. But in this film, the sickle is used more as a symbol of historical grit than a narrative device. The Ploughman, played by Andrew Garfield, embodies this metaphor: he's stoic, unassuming, and ultimately transformed into a revolutionary — though not always in ways that feel organic to the story.

Andrew Garfield's Medieval Misadventure

Garfield gives his character an almost monk-like presence. His Ploughman is silent, introspective, and defined by his surroundings rather than his words. It's a challenging role for a leading man, but Garfield rises to the occasion with subtle performance work that makes the character feel real. However, the script never fully lets him breathe, leaving him as more of a symbol than a person.

It's a shame, really, because Garfield's ability to portray complex emotional landscapes is one of his greatest strengths. In roles like The Amazing Spider-Man or Her, he's shown that he can carry a film with just his eyes and expressions. Here, the visual style — and the lack of character development — hinders his performance. His scenes with Thomasin McKenzie (as a fellow rebel) are particularly strong, showcasing not just their on-screen chemistry but also the potential for the film to evolve beyond its surface-level plot.

Robin Hood, the Marketing Misfire

There's been a lot of buzz around The Uprising lately, and it's largely due to an ill-fated marketing move. The studio added a subtitle — “The Uprising: The Rise of Robin Hood” — to the film's title, hoping to capitalize on the legend's enduring popularity. The move backfired spectacularly, with critics and fans alike groaning at the overreach.

Greengrass' screenplay does indeed imply that the story might be connected to Robin Hood, but it's more of a thematic echo than an actual narrative arc. It's like trying to make a Shakespeare adaptation about Hamlet and then tacking on “Hamlet: The Prince of Denmark” as a subtitle — it sounds clever, but it's just a distraction from what the film is really trying to say.

And so, the film retracts its subtitle, but not before causing damage. It's the kind of misstep that makes you wonder whether the marketing department had any idea what they were doing — or worse, whether they thought the title change would be enough to sell a movie that doesn't quite know how to stand on its own.

What Was Supposed to Be a Revolution

The film attempts to capture the chaos and energy of the Peasants' Revolt through its visual style, but it ends up looking more like a poorly edited home video than a cinematic experience. The overuse of faux-drone shots — especially during scenes of London in flames — feels like a digital crutch, adding nothing to the story's emotional impact.

Greengrass' visual instincts are bold, but in this film, they feel forced and awkward. It's as if he wanted to make a period piece look like a modern action film, but ended up with something that feels neither of those things. The camera work is intense — and sometimes even jarring — but the narrative fails to support the spectacle.

The film's attempt to create an emotional resonance through its characters falls flat, especially in the scenes outside of the court. Here, it becomes a collection of individual performances strung together by a script that's too busy trying to be historically accurate to focus on what makes a story compelling. The supporting cast includes Katherine Waterston and Jamie Bell, both of whom bring gravitas to their roles — but they're not given enough to work with.

History as a Canvas for Film

This is where I think The Uprising falters the most. History is a rich subject for storytelling, and when done right, it can be both educational and emotionally engaging. But Greengrass seems more interested in making a film that looks like something he's seen before — not necessarily a story that's worth telling.

The Peasants' Revolt of 1381 is an important moment in English history, yet the film barely scratches the surface of what made it significant. The real power of the event lies in its complexity — how the social tensions and economic pressures led to rebellion. But instead of delving into those themes, the film focuses on spectacle, often to the detriment of character development or emotional depth.

It's a shame because The Uprising could have been a powerful meditation on power, class, and resistance — especially given the parallels it draws with today's social movements. Instead, it ends up as a well-intentioned but misguided effort that feels like it was made by someone who's more interested in style than substance.

A Hazy Future for Greengrass

Paul Greengrass has a strong track record with period films — his work on Bloody Sunday and United 93 proved that he can make emotionally resonant historical dramas. But The Uprising feels like a departure from what made those films special.

There's an urgency in those earlier films, a sense of immediacy that makes you feel like you're witnessing history unfold. In contrast, The Uprising feels distant — as though it's being viewed through a fog of shaky cam and low lighting. It's a visual choice that's supposed to make the viewer feel like they're part of the action, but instead, it just makes them feel confused.

That said, there are moments in the film that do shine. The scenes with Garfield and McKenzie, and the portrayal of the political intrigue within Richard II's court, offer glimpses of what this could have been — a film that doesn't just chronicle history but interprets it through a modern lens.

Unfortunately, those moments are buried beneath layers of overproduction and underdeveloped characters. It's a pity when a film has such potential but ends up being another case of good intentions meeting poor execution.

The Verdict: A Film That's Lost in Translation

The Uprising is a film that wants to be remembered for its boldness, but it's ultimately forgettable. It tries to blend historical accuracy with a modern cinematic style, but it ends up feeling like a misstep — especially given the quality of Greengrass' previous work.

For fans of the director, there's still something to appreciate in his commitment to realism and gritty storytelling. But for everyone else, this is a film that misses the mark — not because of its ambition, but because it doesn't know how to fulfill it.

In the end, The Uprising feels like an echo of what could have been — a powerful, passionate story about rebellion, power, and identity, told through the lens of one of history's most turbulent periods. But instead, we're left with a shaky cam version of something that might have been great.