First off, an errata: In my review of the Forestmen’s Camouflaged Outpost set, I said that LEGO “…never officially acknowledged that these forest folk were intended to be Robin Hood and his band of outlaws.” My mother has since proven me wrong, gleefully unearthing an old toy catalogue (that woman hordes everything) that clearly refers to the philanthropic “forest person” as Robin Hood, restoring a little of my faith in both my childhood memories and LEGO’s marketing division.
My first Robin Hood LEGO (and that’s what I’m calling it now, as per the image above, which you can click to enlarge) set, was Robin Hood’s Tree Hideaway - a straightforward but nonetheless enchanting set clearly inspired by Sherwood Forest’s Major Oak. The titular tree opens out on hinges to allow little fingers access to the chunky trunk’s interior, where Robin’s ill-gotten gains can be stashed prior to their redistribution. In this set, these ill-gotten gains are represented by a single barrel filled with circular yellow pieces (what passed for coins pre-Pirates), which is quite an improvement on the empty chest found inside the Camouflaged Outpost. Though this was my first Robin Hood set, it was released second, in or around 1988, and so we can assume that the outlaws have honed their rich-robbing skills since their early Camouflaged Outpost days.
Upstairs, meanwhile, is a rustic little treehouse furnished with medieval weaponry. It feels a little deeper set and organic than the aberrantly fortified Camouflaged Outpost, but it’s still marred a little on the exterior by an outstanding (in the negative sense of the word) blue roof, not to mention the two Forestmen shields hanging from the balcony and the crowning big red flag which announce the hideout’s location to the Crusaders.
The set boasts some nice finishing touches. Two vines – quite rare pieces, for the late ’80s - hang down from the treehouse, allowing the outlaws access to it (there’s no stairs, see), while the base plates are decorated with a couple of traditional LEGO trees and an impressive little archery target - another rare piece, making its first appearance here. There’s certainly plenty here on offer for the set’s modest RRP, and having recently rebuilt the set again with my nearly four-year-old daughter, I can see why I loved it so much when I was a sprog. I just hope that it serves Andrea, Olivia and Stephanie et alii as well as it did Robin and Will.
The two-hundred piece set could be improved upon substantially, however, were Robin Hood and his followers ever fortunate enough to be revisited by LEGO. The most pressing issue to be addressed here is, clearly, the colour of the tree. Trees are seldom black. In fact, they’re generally more of a browny hue. From what I recall, besides the odd horse or accessory, it was extraordinary to see brown LEGO pieces in play in the ’80s, but today there is no reason at all why the tree couldn’t be rendered more realistically – just look at the stunning Ewok Village recently put out under the Star Wars banner. Similarly, the foliage could be improved upon with a little bit of finesse; a couple of shades of green and more variance in the piece sizes would look a lot better, for instance, particularly if they were arranged in a more dense formation towards the treetop. And, needless to say, bin the flag.
As for the minifigures, a little more detail in the faces and outfits would quickly bring them up to spec, and a change of mood certainly wouldn’t go amiss. There’s something terribly unsettling about a smiling outlaw brandishing a sword.
First off, an errata: In my review of the Forestmen’s Camouflaged Outpost set, I said that LEGO “…never officially acknowledged that these forest folk were intended to be Robin Hood and his band of outlaws.” My mother has since proven me wrong, gleefully unearthing an old toy catalogue (that woman hordes everything) that clearly refers to the philanthropic “forest person” as Robin Hood, restoring a little of my faith in both my childhood memories and LEGO’s marketing division.
