Napoleon (2023)
Director: Ridley Scott
Screenwriter: David Scarpa
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Vanessa Kirby, Tahar Rahim, Rupert Everett, Paul Rhys

Almost a quarter of a century after his swords and sandals epic Gladiator became a critically acclaimed cultural phenomenon and Oscars Best Picture winner, Ridley Scott re-teams with one of its stars – one of this generation’s leading actors and a multi-time Academy Award nominee, Joaquin Phoenix – to revisit another of history’s most written about leaders, Napoleon Bonaparte of France. With more historically accurate locations and just as many period-appropriate costumes as in his turn of the century fable, this life and times of France’s great-then-disgraced general should be a lot more affecting than it actually is. This bullet point journey through Bonaparte’s rise and fall from power doesn’t make powerful comment on the corruption of man, nor does it evaluate the emperor’s influence on war or peace, on Europe or France or the United Kingdom or Russia. In fact, it doesn’t say much at all…

It would be difficult to chronicle Napoleon’s story and fail to capture the imagination in one way or another. This is one of history’s most important figures, an emblem of power and greed. His various roles in post-revolution France took him across continents, saw him as the figurehead of coups, and brought about the deaths of more than one million people. His was a life filled with so many historically significant events, moments, and decisions, that anyone with so much as an Encyclopaedia Britannica could recount his story with at least some drama, shock and awe. The issue with this $200million film is that the script does little more than precisely that, recounting the significant moments of his leadership as if listing them out of a book, with a cheap and at times barely legible love angle tacked on to evoke empathy and provide commentary on the events that come fast and often with little context.

Joaquin Phoenix tries his best. He dominates every scene, embodying a character he clearly sees as more of a creature than a man. Under his spell, Napoleon Bonaparte is worthy of attention, a character whom we are desperate to investigate, to interrogate. But the film doesn’t allow for that. As we depart the beheading of Marie Antoinette in revolution-era France to first meet our subject, Phoenix is not unlike a lion with his jaw clenched, his eyes glazed, his uniform as extravagant and symbolic as a mane. There is so much promise held within this introduction – a potentially world-shifting performance, some spectacular wardrobe work, effective framing and blocking – and instead it sadly becomes emblematic of a film that leaves so much of its potential unfulfilled.

The bullet point journey through Napoleon’s conquests, political manoeuvres, and exiles, requires an emotional core for any potential audience to attach to, and it finds that in the would-be emperor’s marriage to his beloved Josephine. Vanessa Kirby embodies the infamous leader’s muse as if a witch who has cast a spell, and the Oscar-nominated performer’s turn is at times just as beguiling as Phoenix’s. Together, they never hit the highs of some of their other on-screen relationships (Phoenix in Her, Kirby in Pieces of a Woman), nor is their relationship as moving as that presented by Mel Gibson and Catherine McCormack in Braveheart, or as lustful as that presented by Omar Sharif and Julie Christie in Doctor Zhivago. There isn’t even a sense of dangerous plotting as underlined by the incestuous relationship hinted at between Phoenix and Connie Nielsen in Gladiator, which at least provoked a reaction. In Napoleon, Phoenix and Kirby are believably brought together, but they are far from enchanted by one another, and as time passes and events occur, you expect that to become part of the commentary on Napoleon’s lack of humanity, but it doesn’t. Napoleon instead frames this relationship as the beating heart of its subject, as the primary motivating factor, the biggest achievement, the biggest regret. And the film only takes brief moments to dissect this, or even present a valid argument as to how the relationship motivated the man to achieve otherworldly horrors. Theirs is a story that runs parallel to the story of Napoleon’s “achievements”, evolving from time to time but largely suffering from the same “this happens and then this happens and then this happens” that plagues the rest of the tale.

Beyond the limitations of David Scarpa’s screenplay, which was no doubt limited in its potential by the vast period of time it sought to cover (a period of more than 25 years), and the effects this has on Claire Simpson’s editing and pacing of the film, Napoleon does achieve a lot cinematically. First and foremost, the costume work is spectacular. David Crossman and Janty Yates’ work in costuming is nothing short of stellar, and a glimpse at the level of quality many expected a modern Ridley Scott historical epic to achieve. Everyone looks unique and period-appropriate, but the smaller details on the limited selection of main characters are worthy of the biggest screen possible and plenty of critical acclaim. Similarly, the production design by Arthur Max is a significant factor in bringing cinematic qualities to scenes that are otherwise inconsequential or at least far from unmissable. The party and governmental scenes are where the latter shines the brightest, some sequences decked out and presented as if the period’s great paintings.

Ridley Scott must be commended for his role in bringing this to life, too. Some shots are of the highest cinematic calibre, a master clearly touching on the greatness that has been foundational to his visually impressive career to date. His party scenes are filled with life, there are unique physical qualities to many of the major historical figures at play in the story, and he seems intent on ensuring that not a single battle is presented in as bland a fashion as many other director’s have long since settled. His work with cinematographer Dariusz Wolski in the capturing of cold, of fog, of early morning winter sunrises, imbues the piece with a sense of reality and ensures that nobody can be bored by the achievements held within each frame. Some sequences, such as the one in which Napoleon takes Moscow, are worthy even of a highlight reel that includes The Duellists, Alien, Blade Runner, Thelma & Louise and Gladiator.

As has often been the case in more recent Scott movies, there are also shots, scenes and sometimes even entire sequences that seem absent of his once unique and form-topping touch. Early on, it is easy to be removed from the reality of the time period courtesy of poor CGI, such as that showing Joaquin Phoenix riding a horse on a beach or large crowds resembling AI renditions more than actual people. The picture is also so awash with greys that it seems more like a mid-2000s early digital filmmaking release than even Scott’s own from that era. Some night time shots are utterly spectacular, and seem to be of the same school as those celebrated in Jordan Peele’s Nope, but there are vast periods in which everything looks washed out, and it is almost certain that minutes of this film will be barely legible (too dark) to anyone who eventually watches it at home.

Ridley Scott has spoken a lot in the press tour for Napoleon about how his movies do not need to be historically accurate. When a film seeks to explore something thematically, personally, or ideologically, then Scott is most certainly correct. Film is art, and art seeks truth rather than fact. Gladiator worked because of this perspective, because of how it abandoned fact in search of the truth held within the myth. But Napoleon doesn’t do that. It presents moment after moment from the history books, often inaccurately out of negligence as opposed to deeper purpose. There is no doubt that a lot of care and artistry can be seen on screen in Napoleon, but that negligence will be the story of this film: a movie that could have been great, that could have meant something, that could have simply been accurate, and ended up being none of those things. Like Napoleon himself, Napoleon thinks itself as greater than it is. It isn’t insulting like Ridley Scott’s idea of Napoleon firing canons into the Great Pyramid of Giza was to historians the world over, but it does offer only glimmers at its full might. Some individual pieces are greater than the whole in this instance, and what a shame that is. This should have been special.

Score: 15/24

Recommended for you: Ridley Scott Films Ranked

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)
Director: Tim Burton
Screenwriter: John Logan
Starring: Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman, Timothy Spall, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jamie Campbell Bower, Laura Michelle Kelly, Jayne Wisener, Ed Sanders

Gruesome, disturbing, and tragic, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street still sends shivers down our spines 15 years later. Stephen Sondheim’s genius bleeds through his complex, angular composition to give the story both edge and depth. Tim Burton’s distinctive style builds a world of darkness and expresses the characters’ warped interiority. The film hypnotizes you and keeps you locked in until the shocking, grim finale.

We are first introduced to the titular murderous barber (Johnny Depp) in 1846 on a ship pulling into foggy London. Fifteen years earlier, then by the name of Benjamin Barker, he was convicted of a crime he didn’t commit and sent to Australia while his wife, Lucy (Laura Michelle Kelly), was assaulted by Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman). Now as Sweeney Todd, the barber has come home to exact revenge on the sinister judge for making the arrest and breaking up his family.

Todd returns to his former home, which has been left abandoned with peeling wallpaper and shattered mirrors, and meets Mrs. Lovett who runs the meat pie shop downstairs. She informs him that, after the assault, Lucy poisoned herself with arsenic and Turpin took charge of the Barkers’ daughter, Johanna (Jayne Wisener), as his ward. This revelation only fuels Todd’s anger and, with his silver razors in hand, his ‘arm is complete again.’ A musical motif that plays throughout the film punctuates his declaration and foreshadows his upcoming killing spree as the notes are inspired by the hymn “Dies irae”, often referenced in music to evoke themes of death and dying.

After the death of his first victim, a fellow barber (Sacha Baron Cohen) who remembered Barker from the old days, Todd has an epiphany that ‘we all deserve to die.’ In an evocative shot by cinematographer Dariusz Wolski, the killer’s face is splintered by the shards of a broken mirror, externalizing his descent into madness. Then, Burton stages a spectacular sequence in which Todd roams the streets of London taunting potential customers/victims as they appear not to see him. A cut back to him at home with Mrs. Lovett reveals that it was all in his head. This is a rare example of a scene that is more enthralling and translates better onscreen than on the stage.

Mrs. Lovett then has the ghastly idea to dispose of the bodies by grinding and cooking them in her meat pies. Todd slashes through London society as Mrs. Lovett adjusts her recipe accordingly. With the help of Tobias (Ed Sanders), a young apprentice who is unaware of the atrocities, she serves her cannibalistic delicacies to satisfied (and unknowing) customers and her business is booming for the first time. A beggar woman notices black, foul-smelling smoke billowing from the pie shop’s chimney and she tries to warn passers-by that something is terribly wrong, but no one listens.

In the meantime, a sailor named Anthony (Jamie Campbell Bower) observes Johanna staring longingly out of her bedroom window and falls in love with her beauty and innocence. However, when Turpin realizes Anthony’s attraction to his ward, he sends Johanna to an asylum. Anthony runs to tell Todd, whom he met on the ship bound for London, that they must save her, though oblivious to Todd’s relationship to Johanna and his violent crimes. Together, they plan for Todd to distract the judge with a free shave while Anthony breaks her out of the asylum. The finale is both bloody and heartbreaking, and the twist will shock you.

Watching Sweeney Todd is an intensely physical experience. Through Sondheim’s graphic music and lyrics, as well as Burton’s vivid direction, the film manipulates all five senses and evokes visceral reactions to the horrors that play out onscreen. This is amplified by the silver patina that covers most scenes. The discolouration embodies the bleakness and immorality of the characters, while exaggerating the ruby blood splatters and Todd’s red-soaked sleeves. Burton’s expressionistic composition and staging create a surreal space in which we experience the shadows and darkness which live inside Todd’s mind and that he projects, fairly or unfairly, onto the world. Critics agree that the film is a near-perfect musical adaptation that, as Moira Macdonald of The Seattle Times writes, Burton ‘was born to direct.’

In fact, according to Los Angeles Times contributor Paul Brownfield, Burton was initially enamoured with the story while on holiday in London from his studies at CalArts. He began working on a film version after seeing the West End production of Sondheim’s musical in the early 1980s, but it was never realized. Finally, in 2006, acclaimed director Sam Mendes stepped back from the DreamWorks adaptation and Burton was brought on as a replacement. In the end, the auteur’s ghoulish, expressionistic style was most suitable to bringing this story to life.

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is also not the first retelling of this macabre tale. The murderous barber originally appeared in a 17th-century penny dreadful, published in The People’s Periodical. In 1847, he graced the stage at the Hoxton Theatre in the play “The String of Pearls: The Fiend of Fleet Street”, which served as the inspiration for Christopher Bond’s 1973 stage production, “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street”, and then Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s 1979 Broadway musical adaptation. Part of the film’s appeal is thus due to the character’s long lineage and legendary status as a mainstay of British pop culture.

Johnny Depp as the homicidal barber is a chameleon whose steep crescendos from distraught family man calmly plotting revenge to maniacal serial throat-slasher elicit sympathy and terror. His vocal performance is admirable and his cockney accent is convincing, though snippets of Jack Sparrow occasionally slip through. Bonham Carter and Rickman are perfectly cast as the scheming baker and revolting villain, while Bower’s performance stands out for his ability to swing seamlessly from knight in shining armour to obsessive lover with flashes of insanity darting in his eyes during his performance of ‘Johanna.’ Burton’s nightmarish world is complete with an exceptional wardrobe designed by Colleen Atwood, winner of the Academy Award for Best Costume Design for Alice in Wonderland (2010), another one of their whimsical collaborations.

Film and television are filled with morally ambiguous hero-villains who attain our compassion for the tragedies they’ve endured, yet disturb and terrify us with their sometimes vicious retributions. In Sweeney Todd, however, we witness a special union of razor-sharp melodies, bone-chilling performances, and surreal staging that pull on our heartstrings and send us cowering in fear. Fifteen years later, the movie industry and our own expectations may have changed, but the film’s powerful effects certainly have not.

Score: 22/24

By Emily Nighman

Recommended for you: Every ‘Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street’ Song Ranked

News of the World (2021)
Director: Paul Greengrass
Screenwriters: Paul Greengrass, Luke Davies
Starring: Tom Hanks, Helena Zengel, Tom Astor, Travis Johnson, Andy Kastelic, Ray McKinnon, Mare Winningham

As much as watching John Wayne galloping through the dust in countless carbon-copy, rinse-and-repeat flicks that end up on TCM at 1 in the afternoon is a great way to spend a lazy day, the Western can end up being cliché after cliché. It’s not impossible to break away from formula, but it’s a nice change when a film decides not to give 75 minutes of cowboys vs Indians. How nice it is, therefore, that we have a Western which doesn’t try to replicate the tight gunfight-laden flicks of yesteryear, but takes a leisurely time, strolling through the dust to tell a different story against a familiar backdrop.

Based on the 2016 novel of the same name by Paulette Jiles, News of the World tags along with Captain Jefferson Kidd (played by Tom Hanks), a retired Civil War veteran who goes from town to town reading the newspapers to those who can’t read or don’t have the time to. He picks up a young girl, Johanna (played by Helena Zengel in her international debut), taken by Native Americans at a young age, now knowing no English and without family or a home. The two begin a long and perilous journey to return Johanna to the only family she has left, 400 miles across the Texan wilderness.

Hanks plays the calm, collected, ordered newsman with measured skill, but the real triumph is Zengel’s performance. Thank every cinematic god above that the producers cast a German girl to play a character with German heritage, so that the odd snippets of German which sneak through in Johanna’s dialogue aren’t said with a bad, forced accent. The pair manage to work up some good chemistry together in the quiet moments, so the jeopardy hits home in the suspense sequences and pulls adequately on the heart when the script calls for it.

Paul Greengrass’s direction is good for the most part, though he has a fascination with reaction shots when they’re not needed. This could, however, be on the part of editor William Goldenberg. In a story about family and communities, and being alone and forgotten in a big wide world demonstrated through shots of sweeping, wild landscapes (with beautiful cinematography from Dariusz Wolski), sometimes that empty, solitary feeling could seep through a little more in the edit, instead of trying to hype it up when it’s not needed. You’ve got some shootouts, sure, and they need some good, impactful edits, but pick your time.

The strangest thing about News of the World is that whilst it’s good, it is just that. It’s technically accomplished, the story keeps a tight rein on its character arcs, it looks great, the music works, and the acting is good, but the film plods along doing its thing without really trying anything incredible. It’s a safe picture. You don’t need something jaw-dropping and radical in every film, but the word ‘adventurous’ won’t even cross your mind. Within ten minutes, News of the World tells us of its final destination, and like an old mule, stubbornly refuses to look for an alternative.

News of the World is, whilst longer and more introspective than the typical gunslinger of old, still unable to do anything incredibly fresh or invigorating. The film knows exactly what’s expected, and it gets on and does it. It’s two hours well spent with a serene, sometimes emotional picture, but you’ll forget you watched it almost before it’s finished.

16/24