William Tell's Toronto Triumph: A Must-See for History Buffs and Theater Lovers

Claes Bang takes a stab—quite literally—at embodying the legendary Swiss marksman in director Nick Hamm's gravely serious period epic. *William Tell*, the film that seems to have been forged in a blacksmith's shop of doom, offers a mournful performance from Bang, who plays the iconic huntsman. But alas, the film's lofty ambitions of celebrating a brooding underdog squaring off against the tyrannical Austrian forces feel somewhat, let’s say, undercooked.

One might find joy in the nostalgic charm of old-fashioned battle scenes filled with swords, axes, and crossbows. Still, Hamm’s effort feels like a well-worn story that's been telling itself over a pint in a dimly lit tavern, lacking the remarkable twist that keeps us on the edge of our seats. With a tone that veers into *histrionics* treated with the utmost seriousness, this Toronto premiere, which will also grace Zurich, seems perfectly built to appease fervent fans of *The Lord of the Rings*, *Braveheart*, and other sweeping sagas. Bang leads an ensemble of international talent, including Connor Swindells, Golshifteh Farahani, and the venerable Ben Kingsley—each hoping to elevate this feature beyond its conveniently trodden path.

Transporting us to 1307, the film begins with William Tell (portrayed by Bang) in one of history's most notorious moments—aiming a crossbow at a rather unfortunate apple perched atop his son Walter’s head (played by Tobias Jowett). But just as we’re about to witness this iconic mishap, we’re whisked back in time to uncover the events that led to this tense apple predicament. Our hero, weary of the relentless toils of war and longing for peace, is reluctantly pulled into the fracas with the nefarious Austrian forces, helmed by the loathsome Viceroy Gessler (Swindells), who has aspirations of claiming Switzerland for his own.

As Tell rallies his fellow Swiss fighters, despite facing a substantial numerical disadvantage, Hamm, known for previous films like *The Journey* and *Driven*, bestows upon this film a grandiose visual flair. Cinematographer Jamie D. Ramsay fills the frames with lush forests and ancient castles, with Italy playing the picturesque backdrop for Austria and Switzerland. Meanwhile, Oscar and BAFTA-winning composer Steven Price adds a rousing underscore, with soaring strings and thunderous drums, accentuating the stakes of Tell's monumental endeavor. Yet, despite its epic appearance, *William Tell* is more concerned with palace intrigue and romantic entanglements—like the budding love between Austrian Princess Bertha (Ellie Bamber) and Swiss-born Prince Rudenz (Jonah Hauer-King)—than it is with the high-glory action one might expect from such a legendary figure.

As the film unabashedly opens with that beloved apple scene, there’s an intriguing irony at play. Aside from this iconic moment, what really sets Tell apart from the countless cinematic warriors who engage in noble battles? Bang's portrayal is steeped in a brooding, tortured stoicism, with glimpses of a bloody past wanting forgetfulness trailing behind him. Yet, as impassioned as he may be, Tell’s dialogue and actions tread dangerously close to the generic territory often traveled by grim war dramas.

Even so, it's rather comical how *William Tell* embraces a dramatic fervor that feels slightly out of place. Kingsley struts about as a theatrical one-eyed Austrian king, while Farahani, playing Tell's devoted wife Suna, seems poised to deliver a dramatic gasp at every turn. The film occasionally flirts with a more unhinged, playful tone, then hastily retreats into serious explorations of honor and destiny, almost as if it’s too shy to fully embrace its inner wildness. And as for Swindells’ snarky villain, tasked with forcing Tell to take aim at his own child, he seems to lack the delicious malevolence to truly seize the title of 'nasty nemesis.'

As intensity and bloodshed escalate during a climactic storming-the-castle showdown, a peripheral character laments the never-ending skirmishes plaguing Europe, wistfully pondering when such brutalities may become mere history. Irony abounds, especially when you realize that it’s only during these scenes of merciless combat that *William Tell* finally revs to life. An epic journey of sorts, yet somehow we’re left with the faint whisper of *what could have been*.