“NAPOLEON”: drowned by careless decision-making

Many directors have tried and failed in telling even a fraction of Napoleon’s story, Monsieur N. (2003) and The Emperor’s New Clothes (2001) are only a recent few. Attempting a biopic on such a monolithic figure in history and popular culture was courageous on Ridley Scott’s part, especially considering the only film to have told such a story well so far was the massive near six-hour Napoleon (1927) by Abel Gance. However, having now watched Napoleon (2023) it appears Ridley Scott was unable to capture Gance’s magic, becoming only the last in a long line to fail in telling the story of France’s great general. 

 Firstly, looking at the issue of historicity I would like to agree with Scott in saying, who cares? A film is principally a piece of art, more reflective of the time it was made than the period it depicts. As Nicholas Gallagher has pointed out in his recent Napoleon review, “it is always right first and foremost to judge a work of art on its own terms”. I do not say this lightly, being a historian myself, but in doing so I intend to highlight more than the historical failings that have been so frequently pointed out in recent weeks. More than a poor history, which it undoubtedly is, Ridley Scott’s Napoleon is a poor film. 

Scott’s greatest failing is his inability to settle on which story to tell.

Whilst a biopic is by its nature intended to cover the entire life of a figure, without a run-time long enough to put even the most avid film goer to sleep, it is simply not feasible to feature everything. Therefore, Scott had to pick and choose, ultimately settling on flitting from Napoleon’s bizarre relationship with Josephine to his great military victories (and defeats). The discordance between these two settings makes the film a rather jarring watch; one moment we see thousands of men slip below the ice at Austerlitz, the next we see Napoleon slip under a table, imitating a boar, as he drags Josephine under with him. Whilst I think this does say something interesting about the contestation between ‘Great Man’ retellings of history and more emotionally driven dives into the psyche of historical figures, it does not ultimately make for an enjoyable watching experience. Scott dangles half of what could be two more enjoyable films in front us. One tells the story of Napoleon’s military victories, the horrors of the Napoleonic wars, and the ways in which he nurtured fraternal relationships with his soldiers. The other explores Napoleon’s tumultuous relationship with Josephine, his insecurity and depravity, and satirically highlights the peculiarity of gender relations in 18th century occidental society. 

Whilst Scott’s depictions of the Siege of Toulon and Austerlitz were brutal and dark, the climactic battle at Waterloo fell flat. During arduously long and actionless battle scenes I found myself reminiscing on the opening scenes of Gladiator, there was none of the grit or fast paced editing that were so well used by Scott in his depiction of Waterloo. Instead, the scenes of battle were dominated by wide angles of faceless lines approaching each other and shots of Napoleon or Wellington making boring remarks. The two scenes dedicated to setting up a British sniper killing Napoleon were particularly cheap. It is hard to imagine why Scott spent so much time just to have a hole put through Napoleon’s iconic bicorne; symbolically, it wasn’t inspiring, and there was certainly no tension to be had by the ‘threat’ of the sniper.

The theme of strange directorial choices is prevalent throughout the film.

Why did Scott put Napoleon in the crowd at Marie Antionette’s execution? Why was almost none of Napoleon’s Egyptian campaign included? Why did Scott use bright white flashes to transition time periods only to stop using them halfway through? I’m sure someone who had more faith in the film would point to the upcoming four-hour director’s cut in contextualising many of these questions, but I won’t be holding my breath.  

Many of the individual components of Napoleon are well made, I especially enjoyed Scott’s exploration of Napoleon’s relationship with Josephine, it was often bizarre and nonsensical but captured what Ruth Scurr aptly refers to as “the English tradition of thinking about Napoleon…as a warmonger who is by turns sinister, comic and ultimately unknowable”. However, these enjoyable moments were infrequent, and they by no means coalesced into a film that could be enjoyed as a cohesive whole.

Speaking to The Times in November, Scott tellingly mentioned that he had made four films in the time Scorsese had made one. Napoleon was not a labour of love, as Scott said in the same interview “I get up in the morning and say, ‘Ah great! Another day of stress.’”

The quotidian relationship Scott has had to filmmaking shows clearly in Napoleon, sparks of his storytelling ability are ultimately drowned by careless decision-making and thoughtlessness.