Maid Marian and her Merry Men was slightly before my time, but thanks to the fact the BBC actually used to repeat shows, I had the chance to catch it in the early 00s.
It turned the traditional Robin Hood myth on its head and brought us the supposedy 'true' version of events. In this, Robin of Kensington was a wimpy fashion designer who only joined the band due to being bullied into it by Marian, and his one great contribution was suggesting they all wear green to "co-ordinate with the trees."
Marian was a bossy, gobby feminist type (I'm starting to see why I warmed to this show as a twelve-year-old), very much in charge and certain that one day, history will tell her story accurately. Brilliantly, she scoffs at the idea of her and Robin ever being in a relationship, and thankfully doesn't fall prey to the oh-so-dull trope of the damsel in distress. (I'll stop there, lest I end up going into a several thousand word analysis about the use of the subversive to grant women agency in children's narratives. Though there's a potential thesis topic if I'm ever mad enough to do an MA).
The other, slightly ineffectual Merry Men were Little Ron (he was little), Rabies (he was even more stupid than the others) and Barrington (somewhat inexplicably for something set in the 12th century, a Rasta). The comedy mostly stemmed from the fact they were all a bit rubbish, and most of their attempts to thwart the Sheriff of Nottingham et al. only succeeded through a series of lucky accidents.
The aforementioned Sheriff was played by a wonderfully hammy post-Baldrick Tony Robinson, who also penned the show. King John was the traditional snarling baddie, while Guy of Gisbourne was a spoiled, brattish 20-something who acted like a 4-year-old.
I think, after careful consideration, I prefer Richard Armitage, ta.
It gently took the piss out of most things - memorably Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves but also Comic Relief (where they staged a telethon called 'Colin's Release' to rescue a chicken called Colin) and The Crystal Maze.
And an emminently singable theme tune as well. What more could you want?
I realise I'm starting to sound slightly obsessed with the Robin Hood mythos. I'm not, but as it's the only slightly interesting thing to ever come from the East Midlands, I have an innate fondness for it. And refuse to let Yorkshire try and steal it off us.
Nottingham's got a statue and everything:
Groping Robin Hood's manly thigh. To clarify, I'm the one on the left.
Ok ok, the East Midlands also brought the world The Elephant Man and Adrian Mole.
(For my non-British friends, an explanation of today's odd obsession with pancakes. All major Christian festivals in the UK now boil down to eating lots of food. I approve).
