Ridley Scott is on a fascinating tear, transforming historic moments of love and crime into films as bold as they are polarizing. The Last Duel dusted off a 14th-century rape case, revealing its hero and villains through three perspectives as a dynamic — and joltingly funny — battle of the sexes. Next, House of Gucci interrogated a murder plot from the point of view of a doting wife turned self-made widow. And now, Napoleon explores the life of the French emperor, chiefly through his war victories and tumultuous relationship with his beloved Joséphine de Beauharnais.
However, where I reveled in the daring on display in The Last Duel and House of Gucci, Scott’s Napoleon has left me cold.
Napoleon feels more like a rant than a revelation.
Credit: Apple Original Films
If you don’t know the story of Napoleon Bonaparte beyond pop culture standards of his short stature, big ego, and ABBA-recognized surrender at Waterloo, Scott won’t be much help. Napoleon‘s script, written by David Scarpa, has a fitful pacing, leaping from highlights and lowlights with the casualness of a history professor chatting snoozily among his peers. Cursive title cards aim to add context with the whos, wheres, and whats, but they do so with a shrug, as if they are helpful reminders instead of introductions.
Dialogue delivered (chiefly through grumbling or snooty British accents) allows audiences the gist of political turns, while Scott’s graphic and sprawling battle scenes sufficiently illustrate Napoleon’s skills as a strategist. However, while casual viewers might get the broad strokes of this portrait, Napoleon doesn’t offer enough definition to get emotionally invested.
Joaquin Phoenix plays Napoleon like a clown.
Credit: Apple Original Films
Scott leans away from portraying Bonaparte as the short, rotund, and volatile buffoon seen in movies like Time Bandits or Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. While Phoenix is shot to look shorter than others — including Vanessa Kirby’s Joséphine — a slight low-angle on his Napoleon lends an air of grandeur. Still, there’s a recognized absurdity when the emperor’s arrogance collides with his insecurities.
While Phoenix can cut a stern figure on a battlefield — reminiscent of his scowling Roman emperor in Scott’s Gladiator — he can also play the fool, fleeing from politicians and pratfalling down a flight of stairs while proclaiming himself France’s one true ruler. Phoenix ably straddles this paradox, defiantly responding to Joséphine’s calling Napoleon fat with an outlandish proclamation: “Destiny wanted me to be here. Destiny wanted me to have this lamb chop!”
Like he did with Beau Is Afraid, Phoenix pitches himself ego-less into the ludicrous aspects of this character. But where Beau was a simpering coward, Napoleon has a grand sense of self that prohibits him from seeing his own folly. This is true in war and romance. The film’s final act, where he loses at both, might be seen as tragic, if only we cared.
Scott seems to take the audience’s connection to this historic figure for granted. Napoleon is essentially foisted upon us as if his skill at war strategy alone is reason enough to root for him. Phoenix’s performance is committed, but lacks the surprise of Matt Damon as a repugnant brute or the thrill of Lady Gaga as a sultry social climber. And where Scott’s previous films were peopled with a tantalizing collection of curious characters, Napoleon regards its supporting players as little more than toy soldiers. They come and go with slight distinctions — an apoplectic remark here, a sneer there, a violent outburst or withering stare. But few make a mark on the narrative of Napoleon, save for Joséphine. But she is a curiosity of another sort.
Vanessa Kirby is elegant and enigmatic as Joséphine.
Credit: Apple Original Films
Introduced in rags, walking tall out of prison as the Reign of Terror ended, this former aristocrat initially seems to view Napoleon as a strategic cover, protecting her and her children from the fickle French public. His attempts at flirtation are almost as comical as the repeated scenes of their fornication. In those, he humps at her like a dog in heat, while she looks bored, bordering on impatient.
Throughout their relationship, a crooked grin might flash across her face or a sharp giggle escape her lips. But even as she begins to respond to his plentiful romantic love letters with missives of her own, it’s difficult to determine what’s sincere and what is a survival strategy. As Napoleon’s beloved, she has wealth, status, and a home far from the wars he wages. But — their appalling sex life aside — does she have feelings for him?
Kirby’s performance, peppered with wry smiles and cold stares, refuses to give the audience an easy answer. Perhaps this is meant to reflect how Napoleon sees her, a maddeningly inconstant yet alluring woman. However, this dance becomes tedious in a runtime of two hours and 38 minutes. What is certain is that Napoleon loves her, but is also a fool. And in this, perhaps he could be understood — who among us hasn’t been a fool for love? But mostly, he’s just grating.
Vacillating between sullen, snarling, and ill-fitted mirth, Phoenix’s Napoleon feels like a chore to be around. Perhaps that’s the point, Scott’s means of offering a critique of the kind of blowhards that rise to power through force of will and atrocious social skills. But that doesn’t make such a lecture entertaining.
Ridley Scott aims high but falls short with Napoleon.
Credit: Apple Original Films
Despite its emotional blundering, Napoleon is astounding in other respects. Scott’s battle scenes are immense, involving cannons, horses, and hordes of soldiers. Yet they are easy to follow and brutal in a way that demands a modern audience to recognize the abject horror of these epic historic conflicts.
Within these scenes of war, cinematographer Dariusz Wolski lays out awe-striking tableaus. The depth of field stretches for miles, with beige hills or light gray forts towering in the distance, suggesting the conquest to come. Meanwhile, in the foreground are Napoleon and his soldiers, starkly contrasted from the background by their dark uniforms of crimson and navy, accented by glittering gold accents. Even in a peaceful coronation scene, which flips the darkness to the back to emphasize a time of joy, such attention to detail makes these moments feel profound.
Spanning decades, wars, and scads of historical figures, Napoleon is undoubtedly an ambitious film. But throughout it, Scott feels frustrated with us. Perhaps annoyed by the mixed reception to his last two historical pieces, he seems to have lost patience with the audience. No longer will he enthusiastically unfurl his interest in the subject or bestow upon us characters who are chaotically compelling. Instead, here is an anxious egomaniac and his enigmatic obsession. Behold them as unknowable and inevitable…or don’t.
In the end, Napoleon is bold but also unsatisfying.
Napoleon opens in theaters Nov. 22.
