6 Films That Are The Ultimate Guilty Pleasure

Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves (1991)

There are many things that make Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves completely ridiculous – chief among them being the fact that, here, he is apparently American – but, this big-budget vehicle for Kevin Costner injects just enough humour, and just enough over-the-top romanticism to make it a legitimate guilty pleasure.

The film begins with an attempt to establish context: ‘English’ nobleman Robin of Locksley (Kevin Costner) is imprisoned in Jerusalem, along with his friend Peter, having joined the Crusade led by King of England, Richard The Lionheart. They escape, saving the life of fellow prisoner Azeem (Morgan Freeman) in the process, but Peter is soon mortally wounded. In dying, he makes Robin promise to protect his sister, Marian. Suddenly, Robin and Azeem have returned to England, and manage to walk all the way from the south coast to Locksley’s country pile. Here they discover Robin’s father murdered, his estate in ruins, and the Sheriff of Nottingham (Alan Rickman) terrorising the populace. Robin and Azeem reconnect with Marian and stumble upon a community living in fear in the forest – a group they proceed to train in an uprising against the tyrannical Nottingham.

What makes this film a guilty pleasure is the fact that it is unabashedly and unashamedly exactly what it is – a star vehicle for Costner. Once you embrace the fact that this project will make no attempt at historical accuracy, nor believable character development, it becomes simply a glossy pantomime – with a catchy theme tune, a dashing hero swinging through windows to rescue his loved one, and giant action set-pieces.

While comic relief comes from the Merry Men, it is Alan Rickman that strolls away with every scene in which he features – creating a Sheriff of Nottingham so cartoonishly evil that when he finally occupies the same frame as Costner, it is like watching two very different worlds collide. Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves may well jump the shark a few times, but it consistently carries us – albeit against our better judgement – right along with it. Guilty pleasure, indeed.