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By Frank Housh, June 25, 2024

We begin in medias res, as the Widow Capet (Marie Antoinette) is led to the guillotine. A scowling Napoleon is present amongst the crowd at Place de la Concord, a gifted military strategist in a French nation murdering its most experienced officers. Napoleon is presented as the right man in the right place at the right time.

The movie unfolds from the Reign of Terror (1789) to Napoleon’s death on St. Helena (1821) as a narrative montage, skipping through time to tell the most important stories. Time and place are presented onscreen in quill script; act breaks are signaled by conspicuous signatures on documents.

I speculate the pen and inkwell are shorthand for the class-leveling Napoleonic Code and other non-military legacies ignored by a pendulous plot, swinging between a troubled marriage and cannon-filled battles. Like the bee (immortality) in the final scene, the film conveyed much of Napoleon’s complex legacy symbolically.

Joaquin Phoenix (Napoleon) and Vanessa Kirby (Josephine) anchor the action. Napoleon is the awkward, besotted swain and Josephine the beautiful but troubled widow of an Ancien Régime Naval Officer stuck in Revolutionary Paris. The supporting cast matches the restrained tone of the lead performances. Special mention to dashing young Edouard Philipponnat as Czar Alexander I.

Much has been made of film’s glaring historical inaccuracies, such as the fact that Napoleon could not have witnessed the beheading of the French Queen as he was 500 miles away in Toulon. Further, he never took pointless, petulant potshots at the Pyramids at Giza, and the Battle of Austerlitz was not won by a surprise drowning of the remnants of the Holy Roman Empire in a snow-covered lake in the enemy’s own territory.

The French hate the movie, which is understandable. Royal College alumnus Ridley Scott’s Napoleon is an American actor amidst a coterie of Brits speaking the Queen’s English. Scott’s Napoleon is more tawdry than heroic; the graphic sex scenes portray him as an enthusiastic but crude lover of women. Ridley Scott is untroubled by such concerns, suggesting that “French don’t even like themselves,” and encouraging quibbling historians to “shut the fuck up.” 

Napoleon is beautiful to watch. From the sumptuous costumes to the luxurious set decoration, every frame is meticulously alluring. The battle scenes are spectacular; bloodlust swells from the screen just as it must have on the ridges and slopes of Waterloo. 

Scott’s Napoleon is epic in style, if not in substance. It tells the story of one of history’s most important figures but cannot decide if he was an agent of transformation, power-crazed butcher, or both. The story is told through the lens of a troubled marriage, a plot device used to better effect in Christopher Nolan’s recent Oppenheimer.

Finally, a word of praise for Martin Phipps’ excellent score. Its use of a small string ensemble supplemented by modern instruments sounds historically accurate, adding drama and pathos without bombast. 

Running time: 157 minutes. A 4.5 hour Director’s Cut is promised. Available on several streaming platforms.

Frank Housh is the Managing Editor of The Buffalo Hive. This review was previously published at Media Room: The Arts in Real Life.