[Rating: Rock Fist Way Up]
In theaters Friday July 30
A stunning synthesis of sight, sound, raw emotion, and narrative introspection, The Green Knight is the cinematic equivalent of a concept album. Bucking conventional forms to tell a broader story unmoored from traditional strictures, director David Lowery has gone full medieval with his newest offering, blending 14th century story harmonics with 21st century sensibilities. A coming-of-age story about destiny, duty, cultural assimilation, and honor, The Green Knight doesn’t play for the back row, challenging audiences to surrender to the rhythms of its storytelling beats: rewarding those brave enough to give themselves over to its enchantment.
Lowery starts his story on Christmas day, when King Arthur (Sean Harris) holds a feast in his castle’s great hall for his knights, friends, and family. Gawain (Dev Patel) is Arthur’s nephew, and despite his dreams of one day joining the honored few at the Round Table, he feels apart from his king and queen, with a line earlier about his state of disarray, “I’m not ready,” hinting at more than just an uncombed head of hair and a lost pair of boots. Arthur seems to sense his nephew’s wayward disposition, and so asks Gawain to sit next to him in a place of honor so that he can regale the old king with tales of the young man’s daring.
Ashamed that he has no great deeds to recount, Gawain is dejected, yet is offered a chance to redeem himself when a towering, half-man/half-plant humanoid rides into the great hall and proposes a Christmas game to the king. This green knight (Ralph Ineson) offers any man brave enough a free strike at him provided he is afforded a chance to return the exact same blow one year later. Gawain, already hungry for a moment of glory, eagerly accepts the challenge and lops the head off the green knight, not at all expecting the creature to get up, collect his skull, and ride away with a reminder that the two now have an appointment together “one year hence.”
Jumping ahead nearly twelve months, the film finds Gawain struggling with what he must do, eventually submitting to his honorable promise and riding north to meet the spectral creature at the appointed time and place. At its core, the beats of this story are somewhat familiar, even predictable up to a certain point. Anyone who has read or seen film adaptations of classic Arthurian or medieval tales will recognize the narrative signposts planted along the spine of The Green Knight. Gawain is tested on this quest in all the ways an Arthurian hero might expect, from his charity, to his chastity, and even his faith. Yet the true test is one of honor, and it hinges on Gawain’s commitment to fulfill his vow knowing full well what’s at stake (literally his head).
This isn’t your grandpa’s knight and damsel shit, though: no. This is Excalibur on mescaline; this is Monty Python and the Holy Grail crossed with 2001: A Space Odyssey. Lowery isn’t content to just sit back and spin an A-to-B yarn, pushing The Green Knight out of the bounds of traditional storytelling to integrate time, place, and even reality into something of a mélange where there is no beginning or end. Along the way to meet his destiny, Gawain encounters a scavenger (Barry Keoghan), a young woman (Erin Kellyman), a Lord (Joel Edgerton), and a talking fox among others, all of whom may or may not be real in the physical sense yet are vital to this quest all the same.
It can come across a little heady or abstract at times, but this is all classic Arthurian stuff, what with the baseline elements concerned with a young knight looking to prove himself by submitting to an honorable pursuit, along with period-specific anxieties surrounding the clash between Pagan and Christian traditions. It’s no accident that the green knight makes his appearance on Christmas, intruding upon Arthur’s civilized castle and new-fangled religious ceremony with what’s essentially the ghost of Celtic Christmas past. And while this is inescapably a story about chivalric honor and heroism, it is also an allegory about the worlds of the old and new intersecting at a time and place when only one can remain.
Yet Lowery pushes for more, assaulting his audience with a veritable machine gun of astonishing imagery and sound design within the confines of a nebulous yet direct story. It all combines into a broad, layered, rich text, and were this an essay examining the themes of The Green Knight rather than a simple review of it, at least a dozen more pages could be written. For now, it should suffice to say that Lowery has merged the medieval with the modern, using color, light, costume, and precise, world-class acting to bring his story to life. Although linear in the broadest sense of the term, the film makes use of narrative echoes, like the repeating chorus of a song that brings a listener or viewer back to center after something of a lyrical detour.
Holding this center is Patel, who must juggle inner turmoil and doubt with faux confidence and put-upon courage. A phasic journey through Arthurian legend and 14th century literary models, sure, but The Green Knight is primarily the story of one young man finding his courage and a place in the world, with each segment unfolding like a different song on an album dedicated to a larger story. Patel’s willingness to plunge into himself and draw out nuanced portrayals of fear, uncertainty, confusion, despair, and honor without going wide-eyed and drunk with effusive spectacle are a credit to his craft, showcasing a brave willingness to go small when it would have been far easier to play it big.
That said, this isn’t a movie for everyone. Symbolism and metaphor often stand in for the deliberate, begging repeat viewings to come to terms with everything Lowery weaves into the fabric of the picture. Some actors, like Alicia Vikander, play multiple roles and reappear as seemingly different characters in scenes that are no less confusing due to the sudden reappearance of a familiar face in a different part. As mentioned before, time and reality move differently in The Green Knight than what most are likely used to, and what is known to the audience at any given moment matters less than what they’re feeling or experiencing. It’s nothing less than remarkable, and like the eponymous knight, commands fear, respect, and admiration in equal measure.
“Obvious Child” is the debut novel of Warren Cantrell, a film and music critic based out of Seattle, Washington. Mr. Cantrell has covered the Sundance and Seattle International Film Festivals, and provides regular dispatches for Scene-Stealers and The Playlist. Warren holds a B.A. and M.A. in History, and his hobbies include bourbon drinking, novel writing, and full-contact kickboxing.
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