Most of us have very specific, unshakeable conceptions about which 20th-century leaders to hate and which ones to praise. We’ve decided which ones are the bad guys, and which ones are the good guys who had to stop the bad guys, even if general awareness of perspective alerts us that we might be missing pieces of the story from the buffering safety of history books.
A 19th-Century figure (EARLY 19th- Century) like Napoleon Bonaparte is somewhat more distant and elusive to us, one that allows for ambivalence. Liberator at home and colonizer elsewhere; victor for the people and victim to the nobility; lowly Corsican soldier and grand French Emperor; heartless murderer and passionate, almost unnecessarily loyal lover; cunning practitioner of diplomacy and deluded prey to hubris. Napoleon was all that, and encompassed a dozen more dichotomies.
I have written at length elsewhere of the psychological influence of 19th century France in my upbringing (my recurrent devotion for Alexandre Dumas and his feuilletonistic peers is no accident). My childhood was spent in the shadow of the Napoleonic Museum, a vast fantasy palace that provided a frequent escape from the (why deny it?) poverty and borderline squalor of my childhood in Communist Cuba.
There I spent weekends feeling as though a better world- one that prized beauty- had popped up from the past, made itself visitable if not inhabitable. There was the the replica of Josephine’s bed; the swords that might have belonged to the Three Musketeers; the library out of ‘Beauty and the Beast” (5,000 volumes!)
Three of my top 10 novels of all time (Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables,” Leo Tolstoy’s “War and Peace,” and Alexandre Dumas’ “The Count of Monte Cristo”) deal with Napoleon’s fortunes as plot points, and in none of those texts will you find decisive dictums as to whether he was “a good guy” or “a bad guy.” They can all agree he was great, somehow, which is he why we still talk about him.
(Dumas is admiring from a distance; as a historian, he sees it fit to praise and scold with 20/20 vision. Hugo’s thoughts on Napoleon as a formative figure that must be shaken off at some point are more complex. Tolstoy, who as a Russian had more reason than the other two to be anti-Napoleon, has an even more complex view!)
This is all to say that there weren’t that many people in America as excited as I was to see Ridley Scott’s “Napoleon”- and that few will be as disappointed.
The essential void at the core of Ridley Scott’s otherwise epic movie (one of his recent best) is one of charisma.
Sorry to say this, but this isn’t the well-cast Joaquin Phoenix you saw in “Beau is Afraid” or “The Joker.” This is Joaquin Phoenix as a fumbler who’s way out of his league playing an inspiring world leader. Phoenix produced the film and stars in it with the sort of ironically appropriate hubris that leads people to think they’re good enough to conquer Russian in the middle of winter, even when everyone else can tell it’s a bad idea.
Phoenix not only makes it impossible to understand how Napoleon Bonaparte became a French Emperor; Phoenix also makes it impossible to understand how Joaquin Phoenix became a Hollywood star.
My guess is that he had an “actor” idea: “Everyone would expect Napoleon to be played as a charismatic leader! Too obviously true! What if, instead, I played him as a timid sub quivering under the power of Josephine’s seemingly magical pussy? As a loser who exhibits neither Gallic gallantry nor boisterousness? As a joker who is afraid of things and whose every day is a failure- a Waterloo, if you will?
(This movie, btw, has too many frigid Englishmen pretending to French revolutionaries.)
There are a couple of other issues that go beyond Phoenix.
For once, a movie’s running time is nowhere near appropriate enough to do its subject justice. This is an Apple production that would have merited an 8-hour miniseries, at least. And the script (by David Scarpa, Ridley Scott’s current go-to screenwriter) speed-runs through “Napoleon’s Greatest Hits” like he’s dealing with Alvin’s chipmunks. Marie Antoinette’s death! Austerlitz! Egypt! Elba! Waterloo! St. Helena! Watch out, folks the classics keep coming on!
The problem is, all those things could have been movies of their own. (Some of them have been made!)
Napoleon’s infamous Russian Campaign of 1812 is dealt with in maybe 4 minutes. Even Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” lasts 15 minutes!
But then – and I apologize for having waited so long- there are many things to praise in “Napoleon”.
From a technical aspect, Ridley Scott is astonishingly vigorous at 86. I know 36 year olds who have given up on life, so kudos to the coot. The battle scenes are fantasticz and although my knowledge of Waterloo’s technicalities are limited to what Victor Hugo (extensively) taught me in “Les Miserables,” I still feel apt to say this is the best, “you are there”, depiction of Waterloo on film.
“Napoleon” excels at things that, as a film critic, I’m bad at quantifying, but as a Napoleon nerd, I have to applaud. The pennants on the battlefields, the medals on the coats- they’re right as far as I can tell. This is a very well documented period for costume designers.
I also love little details like the appearance of General Dumas.
(No, that random black guy wasn’t “woke” casting. That was supposed to be General Dumas, Alexandre Dumas’ father, Napoleon’s trusted advisor, and the highest ranking Black man on a European army of his time. He merits a movie of his own.)
And the sappy letters between Napoleon and Josephine? Oh, those are accuratel too. Napoleon was an insecure simp.
“Baby I love you please don’t cheat on me when I go to conquer half the world. I know I’m pretty cool but you are so much better than me, queen of all galaxies, so I understand if you cheat but please don’t, baby, I would cry.”
One final praise: Vanessa Kirby, a revelation (to me) as Empress Josephine. The woman who has grabbed Naps with her pussy. (No, really, watch the movie!) By the time one of her letters suggests she might have been better than Joaquin Phoenix at leading the French, one can’t help but agree.
While also thinking anyone else would also have been better.
HANSEL CASTRO'S HALLUCINA 
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