Qui Est-ce?
The very serious ‘Napoleon’ proves Ridley Scott needs to let his sense of humour off the leash.
Napoleon
Director: Ridley Scott • Writer: David Scarpa
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Vanessa Kirby, Tahar Rahim, Ben Miles, Matthew Needham, Rupert Everett
UK / USA • 2hrs 38mins
Opens Hong Kong November 23 • IIB
Grade: B-
Something is seriously wrong when, as you watch former French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte (Joaquin Phoenix), strategise about defeating a coalition army of the Holy Roman Empire, the Russians and the boat-having British, led by Duke of Wellington Arthur Wellesley (Rupert Everett, sneering gloriously) and point at a map marked “Waterloo”, you start singing ABBA in your head. This is surely not what epic – and I’m using that as a genre – director Ridley Scott meant to conjure in the last act of Napoleon. Alas, after two-plus hours of meandering character and loosey-goosey history (not a complaint) I couldn’t stop the “My, my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender,” refrain of that Eurovision banger from invading my thoughts.
It happened because though Scott has a proven knack for realising Napoleonic Europe – his first film was the super-cool The Duellists in 1977 – and he has his stellar crew with him, among them his DOP since Prometheus, Dariusz Wolski (who also shot brother Tony’s Crimson Tide), costume designer Janty Yates (an Oscar winner for Gladiator), production designer Arthur Max (Se7en), and VFX maestro Neil Corbould (Rogue One, The Creator), Napoleon is all over the damn map (no pun intended). Portrait of a horny, co-dependent marriage one minute, character study of a dude with a murderous chip on his shoulder the next, with a touch of (welcome) black comedy thrown in, it’s not enough of either to leave a lasting impression. The dearth of French people in the film is the least of its problems.
Not a Frenchman to be found
In press notes Scott was quoted saying, “I think one of the reasons people are still fascinated by Napoleon is because he was so complicated.” True, and the last time subject and filmmaker aligned so perfectly was Baz Luhrmann and Elvis. David Scarpa’s (All the Money in the World) script runs through the general-turned-Emperor’s greatest hits and misses: the Siege of Toulon, where he made a name for his tactical skill; the Battle of Austerlitz, which cemented his reputation as a great strategist; Waterloo, where he couldn’t escape if he wanted to; the dual exiles to Elba and Saint Helena. But Napoleon never really tells us anything. How his Corsican roots manifested themselves as trusting few people aside from his brother Lucien (Matthew Needham), his revolutionary chief of staff Paul Barras (actual French person Tahar Rahim, A Prophet), and advisor Caulaincourt (Ben Miles) and an obsession with getting respect from nobles Tsar Alexander I (Édouard Philipponnat) and Emperor Francis I (Miles Jupp) is unclear. Were they linked? What about his devotion to the shady Joséphine (Vanessa Kirby, Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One). How did he reconcile conquest with romance? Did he?
Bonaparte the man, the dictator and the insecure little boy all get lost in the technical shuffle, and what a shuffle. We’ve seen cannon fire in movies for decades, but not in the gruesome, gory, catastrophic way Scott and Corbould do it here. Bonaparte’s turn-of-the-19th violence is tactile and grim, and goes a long way to recreating the myth of the man as ruthless, in lockstep with Wolski’s widescreen images that reflect Bonaparte’s ambition. When the Russians and Austrians plunge to their icy deaths – if they were musketed or stabbed – it’s tragic in how visceral it is. The grotty early-1800s are no joke.
And that becomes the story, despite some genuine creepy chemistry between Kirby (who’s underused) and Phoenix, who turns in an enigmatic performance that’s hard to pin down. Is he somnolent, or is that simmering psychosis? Which of course comes in between some truly hilarious moments of petulance (the “boat-having British” is a thing), both his and the supporting cast’s. Somehow, one of Edith Piaf’s jauntier tunes makes it to the soundtrack. When Napoleon indulges its goofier side, it becomes a low-key piss-take of entitlement and class, and it’s on to something.
But bottom line it suffers the cowardice that Scott’s House of Gucci did, and fails to lean all the way fuckin’ in to its more unhinged instincts, which would have been infinitely more entertaining and quite possibly more enlightening. And if not entertaining then at least it would have given the film an identity. Rumour has it there’s a four-plus-hour director's cut ready to go for producer AppleTV+. Admittedly Scott’s Blade Runner cut was superior to the theatrical release, and Kingdom of Heaven may as well be another movie. Maybe Scott’s real Napoleon pic was left on the proverbial cutting room floor. If you ask me, though? See the criminally overlooked The Last Duel instead. — DEK