The Uprising

The Uprising is often hard to see or follow, relentlessly bleak in its visual palette and sparse in dialogue that might have illuminated the conditions sparking the revolt. While the film sparkles when exploring ideological fractures among the rebel leaders, Garfield remains largely inexpressive behind his beard, and Greengrass's heavy-handed approach—invoking post-Trump language and failing to trust his audience—undermines what could have been a stirring historical drama.

The Uprising is a terrific example of the historical epic, with strong central performances elevating it beyond the handful of underdeveloped elements that would otherwise hold it back. In an era when class disparity has only grown more pronounced, and the public grows more frustrated with governments that do little to help them compared to the wealthy, The Uprising speaks to a raw rage that feels especially timely.

The period drama works like a seesaw, oscillating between high-tension, high-stakes drama and underwhelming sequences that dissipate its pent-up energy. Andrew Garfield is terrific — resolute and fearless, awakened by anger but never consumed by it. Despite its flaws, the film stays with you and leaves you thinking.

The vast majority of "The Uprising" is a competent, straightforward recreation of a landmark historical event. A talented team of below-the-line artists recreate the drab poverty of feudal England with impressive detail, and there shouldn't be any complaints about Greengrass' staging of the battle sequences. It completes a film that's likely to satisfy anyone sympathetic to its message, even if it has to blend history and fiction to get there.

Written and directed by Paul Greengrass, this retelling of the Peasants' Revolt of 1381 is gripping till the strange epilogue, which shoehorns Robin Hood into the story. It is only the Robin Hood-shaped epilogue that causes the film to trip up, making it look like the Peasants' Revolt was not thrilling or accessible enough on its own.