Perhaps not the *worst* short in the Martinez cavalcade of shock, this backyard fairy tale takes a sadistic and darkly humorous approach to its folklore legend like a Monty Python skit. We are immediately introduced to Robin Hood, a dashing Errol Flynn persona, here dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and sweats comfortably awkward in that his rich victims are wearing the same (but with a thrift store blazer for a capper). It isn't long before all heck breaks loose and we are treated to a violent river crossing with Little John that includes enough broken tree branches and stuntman leaps that it makes the similar sequence in Robin Hood Daffy seem like a mere child's parody. Then fat-ass Friar Tuck gets in on the act and beefs his way through on onslaught of merry men/henchmen and (spoilers) chucks a spear through Robin Hood's chest plate, killing him instantly! I was shocked by this surprise twist. Appropriate narration is humorous and informative and is not shameless enough to shoehorn in a John Saxon reference in its devilish parade of charlatans and miscreants. A poor man realizing he now has money turns into tragedy as his excitement sends him crashing down a grassy hill. As per usual for these pre-2000 productions, the cinematography looks like an underground bestiality video.
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