Written by Andreas Babiolakis

When Ridley Scott first started making films, he was a hungry artist with much to say and he fought to be heard by any means necessary. Once he became a household name, he wanted to secure his seat at the table for the elite with awards season darlings and crowd-pleasing historical epics. Has anyone noticed this new phase of his career that we entered not too long ago? I like to call it the “Ridley Scott Doesn’t Give A Fuck What You Think” years. If it isn’t clear from his hilariously stubborn interviews as of late, his films since at least 2020 have marched to a different beat. They’re no longer the radical films of old, nor the safe, over-produced Oscar bait films he also became known for. They’re somewhere in the middle. House of Gucci is as obnoxious as it is interesting with its satire. The Last Duel doesn’t take itself too seriously, and yet its titular climactic scene is one of the greatest achievements in Scott’s career. He no longer cares what critics or the masses think of his films. He’s making motion pictures for himself. We have yet another example of this with his latest film Napoleon, which could have been a pedestrian, tiptoeing epic that is scared to cover new ground, or a misshapen mess of a picture without any rhyme or reason attributed to its gestation.

It somehow rests right in the middle as this precisely crafted epic is also quite self-aware of its own buffoonery. It feels like Scott was commissioned by Napoleon Bonaparte himself to make this film. While Scott found this hypothetical ask to be a good opportunity to showcase the brutality of war, the scale of damage caused by a fragile ego, and the capabilities of his own filmmaking (despite the unevenness in his filmography, Scott can choreograph battle sequences quite tremendously), he also found this to be a good opportunity to turn the mirror on Napoleon to show him just how pathetic he himself is. Napoleon isn’t a celebration of a tyrant. It is an ambitious argument as to how much of a man-child Napoleon Bonaparte was through a modern lens of what incels look like. Maybe Scott is trying to say that there are still infantile nitwits with delusions of arrogance who should not possess as much power as they do (in fact, I think he is precisely saying this), but Napoleon is first and foremost a film that is very much Napoleon through and through. It views itself as crucial, impactful, and powerful. Scott also views Napoleon as a pathetic dumbass. The two worlds collide in this peculiar war epic: one that feels both grandiose and juvenile at the same time. While other Scott films feel misguided, I honestly feel like this time it’s strictly intentionally anarchistic (like this is Scott’s Babylon, but even then he doesn’t go quite that far with the hideousness).

I’m trying my best not to bring up Napoléon by Abel Gance at all, but there is at least one reason why I felt the five-hour, silent film masterpiece was necessary to reflect upon: how both his and Scott’s films begin. Gance begins with Napoleon as a teenager partaking in a snowball fight and showcasing his thirst for power and his knack for military strategy from such a young age. Scott begins Napoleon with the execution of Marie Antoinette and the titular figure bearing witness to this beheading while he is all but an army officer trying to work his way up the ranks. Gance tries to make a parallel between one’s upbringing and their identity as an adult (how Napoleon learned that he adored leading people into battle when he was just a child). Scott sets the tone quite differently: as if Napoleon is forever treading forward with eyes on the back of his head, as to not endure the same fate as Marie Antoinette; if the people turned on her, they can turn on him as well. Perhaps he shouldn’t win people over in the first place. Maybe he should instil fear and prominence right away, so everyone knows where they stand: him above all others and the rest below his short-yet-elevated stature.

Before we proceed, yes I am already fully aware of the falseness pertaining to Napoleon Bonaparte being short and how it is not factually accurate, but my point still stands.

*Napoleon* is both messy and profound: an odd epic about the size and stupidity of one’s ego.

While the film focuses on Napoleon’s rise to power and fall to ruin, it also zeroes in on his marriage to Joséphine, and both lead actors Joaquin Phoenix and Vanessa Kirby inhabit the wonky dichotomy of the film quite well. Phoenix renders Napoleon as a ten-year-old wimp in an adult’s body, as he stomps around, whines, and grimaces at situations he does not like. Kirby feels a little more human as she takes time with her lines, even going as far as looking like she is in mid-thought while she stumbles over confessions and suggestions in front of her husband. Napoleon wants to conceive with her and have a son to follow in his footsteps, but he also views Joséphine as nothing more than a fornication object; despite the weirdness that surrounds Scott becoming the master (?) of awkward sex scenes, it at least feels symbolic here unlike The House of Gucci. The central marriage in Napoleon isn’t meant to last. It never was. It was yet another piece of strategy from a man who only ever cared about himself. The film shows Napoleon’s addiction to Joséphine as an example of the prevalence of toxic masculinity throughout history; this is neither old nor new, but rather a constant that has yet to let up.

So much about Napoleon screams “excessive”, for better or for worse. I love the melodramatic musical choices, from classical selections to cuts by Martin Phipps; these orchestrations either heighten or mock what we see on screen and are always successful in doing so. Then you have moments that land like thuds because they contrast what came before or is to follow a little too drastically. This tonal risk doesn’t always pay off, but it usually does. There isn’t much to be said about the production and post-production of this film which, like anything else, is equal parts majestic and brilliant and extreme. This is a traditional costume drama but also somewhat of a caricature of such a genre: as if Scott still wants to make these films but is tired of abiding by all of the rules. This kind of resilience wouldn’t always work, but here we get the best of both worlds. We get a well-constructed historical drama that will likely accrue quite a few nominations come awards season, and we also get a reluctant child of a film that you cannot help but wonder what it will attempt next.

While this makes for an entertaining film that never really feels overlong despite its two-and-a-half-hour runtime (I’m not sure if the reported director’s cut being four hours is necessary, mind you) that is also quite messy, I also don’t believe it should have ever leaned into either side more or less. We’ve seen Scott make traditional historical epics again and again, and it’s becoming quite boring. I also don’t really know if I want Scott to ever be too unhinged either. This feels both contained and ravenous, and both sides are necessary for this film to work even remotely. Against all odds, it kind of does. Despite the moments that made me laugh unintentionally (don’t worry, much of the intended comedy does work) or the intense moments that had me scratching my head, Napoleon at least feels interesting. It isn’t overly safe. It isn’t try-hard. It’s sure to piss off audiences that want either a strictly polished affair or something out of left field because it’s neither. I just want a film to be good. That’s my only ever expectation when I watch films. Even though I am very quick to proclaim when Ridley Scott falls short (and he has done so quite often), I feel like Napoleon is actually good. It’s strange but true. It tries many things, and Napoleon manages to get its way as a result.

It kind of feels like the mind of a young boy playing with his toy soldiers and making “kabloosh” noises to mimic explosions, but would this have played out any differently in the real mind of Napoleon Bonaparte? It kind of works. It’s dazzling to look at, occasionally humorous, and constantly surprising (even to its own detriment). It at least feels intriguing throughout. The battle sequences are as great as you would expect. The drama is surprisingly not a complete bore (in fact, the on-screen tension between Phoenix and Kirby is quite great). I will never think that Abel Gance’s film will be topped when it comes to representing Napoleon Bonaparte on the big screen (and I will forever wonder what Stanley Kubrick’s Napoleon film would have looked like had it come to fruition), but Scott kind of encapsulated the leader’s legacy and personality impeccably here, as his Napoleon is unruly to its own downfall, full of perseverance as to try not fail, and as successful as it is slighted. Again, Napoleon is kind of all over the place to the point of being chaotic, but I do occasionally love chaos. Napoleon shouldn’t work as decently as it does, and yet here we are. It’s kind of nice that Scott no longer cares about what people think of his films because sometimes his defiance leads to inexplicable concoctions like this. Napoleon may not be a masterpiece, but it’s at least worth watching and talking about, and that’s a hell of a lot more than what I was predicting when this project was first being made.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.