The story of William Tell is to Switzerland what Robin Hood is to England – a fictional folk story that carries inspiring anti-authoritarian themes. Both are compelling tales about rebellion and the strength of a unified proletariat. It is, therefore, a shame that the first feature film adaptation of William Tell’s story since 1960 feels more like farce than fable.
WILLIAM TELL is set in 1307 when Switzerland is invaded by the forces of the Austrian King, Albert (Ben Kingsley). He commands the power-hungry Gessler (Connor Swindells), a bailiff whose brutal rule spreads fear and resentment. William Tell (Claes Bang) is a hunter living in Gessler’s ruled lands with his wife Suna (Golshifteh Farahani) and son Walter (Tobias Jowett). He’s a skilled crossbowman whose traumatic experience during the Crusades has informed his peaceful ways. When Tell helps a man (Sam Kessler) evade Gessler’s forces, he becomes tangled up in a growing rebellion against Gessler. Eventually, Tell’s disgruntlement with the Austrian occupation sees him becoming the face of this new rebellion.
The film builds towards the iconic moment when Gessler forces Tell to shoot an apple off of his son’s head with his crossbow. However, this scene around the film’s midpoint is also the only one of genuine suspense. Drawn-out slow-motion builds anticipation, and the fact that a portion of this sequence served as the film’s prologue helps the moment drip with dread and uncertainty. It’s a stirring scene in a picture that’s otherwise theatrical to the point of pantomime.
“The film builds towards the iconic moment when Gessler forces Tell to shoot an apple off of his son’s head with his crossbow. However, this scene around the film’s midpoint is also the only one of genuine suspense.”
All the ingredients for an exciting epic are here. You have a complex hero in Tell; a traumatised man who learns to take up an unwanted leadership mantle to serve the greater good. He leads the independence movement by cultivating solidarity rather than lone heroism, leaving fertile ground for an ensemble of other heroic players. Albert’s niece Bertha (Ellie Bamber) is a princess who rejects her blue blood in favour of the proletariat, in the interests of her desire to see a Switzerland liberated from the evils of monarchy. Jonah Hauer-King’s Rundez learns from experience and his uncle’s words (Jonathan Pryce) to fight for the masses rather than his own personal interests. These character journeys could harmonise to create a compelling story on rebellion and companionship in the face of tyranny. In a different set of hands, this could’ve been a throwback to historical action films like BRAVEHEART.
Instead, the picture is plagued with flimsy filmmaking and appalling acting (the latter presumably results from misguided direction, as plenty of capable actors are in this roster). However, in the actors’ defence, they must recite a lot of overblown dialogue full of rambunctious declarations about blood, honour, swords, heart’s desire and all the usual twaddle. The antagonists, particularly the gurning Gessler, recite malicious commands and scene-chewing speeches, their ridiculousness surpassed only by the golden eyepatch of King Albert. The entire conflict can be boiled down to a cliched, even cloying, battle between power and heart. This sentiment is primarily conveyed through compilations of the masculinity-flaunting shouting and screaming from the heroes and villains alike.
“These character journeys could harmonise to create a compelling story on rebellion and companionship in the face of tyranny. In a different set of hands, this could’ve been a throwback to historical action films like BRAVEHEART.”
Director Nick Hamm doesn’t seem to give his actors any room to breathe or, god forbid, exercise some subtlety. Despite the intricate plotting and mass of characters, the film races through the story as if trying to get it over with as painlessly as possible. Although there is evident attention to detail in the production design (seen in the grand medieval sets and rural landscapes), the editing is choppy and rushed to the point of incoherence. The most notable instance occurs in a sequence when Tell’s wife launches one of the rebellion’s first attacks: the editing and pacing are so erratic that it takes an eventual flashback to understand what even happened.
Left behind in the wake of all this is a film where the craft doesn’t match the potential of its material. The direction actively hampers the resonant themes and ambitious battle scenes and turns that potential into a haphazard, overwritten spectacle with a redundant setup for a sequel. Even the inciting incident, in which Tell agrees to help Kessler’s character cross stormy waves, utilises CGI water that proves distractingly over-the-top. Perhaps the real waves were also too exhausted to comply with the required theatricality.