Me and Robin Hood (3 stars)

This article is from 2017

Me And Robin Hood

A passionately-told story about myths and money

During a show that ultimately brings its audience together in a wave of compassion for our fellow beings, there's quite a bit of tension between our host Shôn Dale-Jones, and two people in his crowd. One woman takes exception at a mild dig he makes (she has positioned herself near the door to escape early for another show) while a man later noisily walks out taking Dale-Jones to task for a further remark he aimed at the early-exiter. After reaching the conclusion that this is not some curious meta part of the show, the remainder stay firmly on Dale-Jones' side for his story of how he decided to rob a bank when he was a schoolboy.

The reason for this somewhat extreme act of rebellion was down to his love of Robin Hood and the notion learned via both his Thatcherite father and left-leaning, community-loving grandmother (they fell out badly over their disparate beliefs) that the gap between rich and poor was increasing at an obscene rate.

As the narrative shuttles back and forth in time from those mischievous school days to his present life worrying about being able to pay his mortgage while playing gigs that effectively earn him zero cash, Dale-Jones' aim with this show is for us to recalibrate our relationship to money. It's an honourable pursuit but whether anyone takes Dale-Jones up on this beyond sticking money into the charity tin at the end will remain to be seen.

Pleasance Dome, run ended.

Me and Robin Hood

  • 3 stars

Hoipolloi & Royal Court in association with Theatre Royal Plymouth I first met Robin Hood in the Autumn of 1975, as a seven-year-old boy, and we have been good mates ever since. Recently, he's been going crazy about the direction our world is heading. He can't believe there isn't a bigger reaction to all the madness.