The Uprising
Introduction
The setting of grey skies suppressing the sunlight across the grazens is a direct allegory for the crumbling medieval period that the new English film The Uprising is set in. The year is 1381 – even as England has been plagued with black death, a pandemic that has swallowed nearly half the population. And interestingly enough, the political subtext in the drama starts with exactly this conflict – a tax levied on the peasants to fill the fortunes of the higher Council of King Richard II (Woody Norman), a 14 year old who isn’t quite well versed with the politics of the land, leaving the fate of the kingdom on his Council Members. It is also noteworthy on how this character is plagued with nightmares of his own – something that would easily trascend him as a king in a fictional Shakespearean land. And this trait of his oddly also showcases a foreshadowing Shakespearean tragedy that would unfold later on within an already unfolding tragedy – making the eventual uprising brutal, deceitful and ragingly bloody!
Story & Screenplay
Written by Paul Greengrass, one of the minor complaints that I had with the film The Uprising is with regards to the characterization of the protagonist Ploughman (Andrew Garfield), wherein his character isn’t allowed to breath through his grief. At the start, it is implied that he has lost his wife and children to the plague – before immediately positioning him as a chosen one, fighting for the rights of his folks by voicing his opinion against the increasing taxes on the peasantry, thereby invariably making him the posterboy of the movement. Think of the Hindi film Lagaan (2001) wherein the ‘Sarat’ (condition) is replaced with a stack of weaponry, and the cricket match is replaced with a full blown violent revolution.
It is interesting to note on how the political subtext of the drama can directly draw parallels to the kind of unrest that the world faces today – even with the impending atrocities of the Government on the common man, who is squeezed to his last drop with regards to the tax collection levied on him. In that sense, the writing does employ a punch up technique – collectively creating a singular revolution against the atrocities imposed by the medieval government, a stack of events that results in bloodshed. On the flipside, the writing restricts itself to broadstrokes – treating every revolutionary as just another character, without spending time in emphasizing the emotional core of individuals. So characters like John Ball (Jamie Bell) and Wat Tyler (Cosmo Jarvis) remain faintly sketchy characters fighting for a common goal, as opposed to a definite identity of either character.
However, an interesting contrast remains the subtext of religion that is explored by both the stakeholders in the uprising. While the character of the priest John Ball (Jamie Bell) demand for equality in the name of religion, the elite institution is quick to label him as a heretic, whilst skewing the concept of religion in an attempt to brainwash their own folks – almost creating an aura of the plague being the will of God, all in the name of hidden bouts of greed. It remains a fleeting theme but an important one in the context of the drama.
The proceedings aren’t entirely layered, even as I could see through the souls of the characters and their ultimate motives that were being employed. And much of it also extended from my own psyche of understanding the politics doing the rounds at the moment – wherein every bout of justice is more of an illusion in the wake of a bigger betrayal round the corner. Also subverting this moment is a bout of blind trust, something that we witness when the group of revolutionaries are immediately attracted to the plight of their king – terming him as being a captive by his own Council, and having no real role in the decisions imposed on the peasants.
Ironically, much of the major issues with the narrative were reserved for the final act – one that offered little room for emotions, while opting for a chain of violence in loop. The events not only felt slightly lagging and repetitive, but also lacking the nuance or the layers in the narrative – even as every little deviation was spelled out through bouts of exposition. The broad strokes did leave a mark with the gore amidst an oscillating battle of deceit and betrayal – but the simmering tensions and bouts of uncertainty did not make it to the final act. Even the final face-off was brutal but lacked a strong emotional core due to its creative decision to be edgy (more on that in the next section), nudging the screenplay to be less impactful than stellar. And an unsaid epilogue to the origin story of Robin Hood felt like an afterthought, and as a result ended up being half-baked. To be fair, the screenplay did have some intense moments to shine but it missed a mark in realising its full potential.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues felt slightly generic here, as opposed to being hard-hitting – almost never delving deeper into a powerful emotional core. As a result, the surface-level lines never soar into a psychological space wherein one could empathize with any character. The BGM is searing, while ably pronouncing the antics of the characters in the narrative – although, it slightly overpowers the narrative in a few pivotal moments like the final face-off resulting in a sea of slaughter.
The cinematography remains an important point of discussion here – a feature that would decide on how well the film has worked for you. For me personally, the frames remained a mixed bag (just like the film) – ably capturing the grim atmospherics of the drama through dreary and grainy frames (wonderfully capturing the medieval countryside), but depleting the drama of any emotions due to its shaky hand-held framing in combat sequences. The latter gave me an impression that the makers weren’t fully backing the written material – instead wishing to push the envelope with certain gimmicks that didn’t exactly elevate the drama in any way. Instead, the shaky frames took me out of the film, whilst stripping the film off its emotional core. In hindsight, the drama needed more scale and opulence than rawness – something that wasn’t reflective through its frames.
The editing pattern remains a mixed bag here – largely holding the narrative together into an engaging drama despite its convenient writing, but also not attributing for bouts of lag in the second hour. The latter did push the drama into a slightly more repetitive zone, while having me temporarily disconnected with the proceedings.
Director Paul Greengrass does a fair job in creating a swiftly depleting world that becomes a key conflict for the ultimate drama to unfold. While his characters lack the depth, the thematic relatabilities to the real world result in an engaging drama that had me fairly invested here. But the direction isn’t entirely without its share of flaws; the lack of a strong emotional core comes back to haunt the narrative in the final act that also felt largely repetitive and sensational, rather than visceral and nuanced. The end result remained that the drama was watchable but the direction didn’t push it into a memorable category, ultimately falling a little short of the finishing line. The direction is decent here!
Performances
The performances are pretty good despite not all characters getting their due from a writing standpoint. Tom Hollander and Stephen Dillane as the members of the Royal Council bring sharp political malice to the film. Their turns as slimy advisors effectively ground the high-stakes palace intrigue. Each of Jamie Bell as John Ball, Cosmo Jarvis as Wat Tyler, Sky Yang as Scribe, and Thomasin McKenzie as Alyce have their moments to shine, bringing bouts of fiery flair to their antics despite each of their characters appearing sketchy and generic in terms of the writing.
Katherine Waterston as the Countess Waterston delivers a highly praised, satisfyingly icy performance as the wary mother of King Richard II. Woody Norman as King Richard II delivers a layered portrayal of trauma and fear, while subverting his callous nature with bouts of cunningness and cruelty. He was a treat to witness here. Andrew Garfield as Ploughman allows his expressive eyes to do the talking here, committing to the pain of his character and allowing unsaid bouts of grief to gently appear throughout the narrative. The tender streak of helplessness that would later transform into streaks of vengeance is the entire arc of his character – something that he pulls off with aplomb!
Conclusion
Fumbling with its technicalities in an unlayered final act, The Uprising is a decent historical saga that offers scattered moments of genuine engagement and intensity, largely scoring through its powerhouse performances. While the writing occasionally relies on convenient plot devices and repetitive beats instead of delving deeper into the emotional core of its characters, it maintains just enough narrative diligence to keep the drama pretty watchable. The end-result is a classic, mixed-bag historical actioner—one that lacks a complex conclusion but remains fairly engaging. Available in a theatre near you (from 18th September’26 onwards in India).