History on the Big Screen: Who Did It Better?

This year has been a good year for fans of history films. Oppenheimer was one of 2023’s highest-grossing movies at the box office, and films like Jesus Revolution, Tetris, and Big George Foreman show that this is a trend that has legs in Hollywood right now. However, with any history film, you have two questions that need to be answered: (1) is the film historically accurate? (2) is the film any good?

I’ve decided to look at two recently-released history movies and answer these two questions for both of them.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a Martin Scorsese film starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro adapted from the true-crime novel of the same name about a series of murders that occurred on the Osage tribe’s reservation in Oklahoma in the 1920’s.

Napoleon is a Ridley Scott movie starring Joaquin Phoenix about one of the most famous warlords in history, who rose from relative obscurity to conquer most of Europe at the start of the 19th century.

Two history films about two very different historical events and time periods, each directed by one of the most famous directors in Hollywood and featuring some of the biggest movie stars – how do they compare?

Killers is a movie about a very obscure historical event that most audience members likely has never heard of. The Osage are a tribe that originated in the Ohio River Valley but gradually migrated to modern-day Missouri between AD 400-1300. As the United States expanded westwards, they were forcibly resettled on a reservation in Oklahoma in the 19th century, only for oil to be discovered on their reservation in the early 20th century. This discovery made the Osage very wealthy, but at a cost. They had to bring in oil companies and thousands of oil workers to make use of this resource. Not only that, but since most tribal members were legally considered to be “incompetent” to handle their own finances, they often had to have someone else manage their money for them. Many Osage women would marry white men for this reason, so their husbands could manage the oil revenues. This created a tinder box that would explode into violence as at least 24 tribal members (and possibly many more) were killed for their oil money. This was one of the first major cases that the then-newly-created FBI helped to solve.

Napoleon, in contrast, is about a historical figure we all learned about in our high school history classes. Born on the Mediterranean island of Corsica just one year after France conquered it, he was sent to the French military academy as a young man. Facing discrimination for being both a member of a lower social class and a Corsican, his career stalled until the French Revolution opened up opportunities for him to rise through the ranks based on his leadership skills and tactical genius. Nevertheless, he initially tried to lead Corsica’s struggle for independence from French rule, but when that failed, he returned to France and led French forces in a series of military victories both at home and in Italy. He then led an ill-fated campaign in Egypt, deserting his troops there when it became clear that they were headed for disaster. Shortly after returning to France, he staged a coup d’état to become military dictator, eventually crowning himself emperor a few years later. All the while, he continued to lead the French army to a series of victories across Europe, until a guerilla insurrection in Spain and a disastrous failure of an invasion of Russia depleted his army’s strength. Forced to abdicate, he went into exile on the Italian island of Elba, but he soon escaped and tried to return to power in France. It looked at first like he would succeed, but his defeat at the Battle of Waterloo sealed his fate; now a British prisoner, he was sent to St. Helena, an island thousands of miles from anything, to live out the last of his days.

Are these movies historically accurate?

I get the impression that Martin Scorsese knew how obscure the Osage murders are in the broader public consciousness, and therefore felt an obligation to be as accurate as possible. He actively involved the modern-day Osage community in the making of this film, making sure the film portrays their history from their point of view.

The result speaks for itself. One of the first things that struck me was just how accurate the costumes in this movie are. Jacqueline West and Julia O’Keefe did an amazing job capturing the dress of the 1920’s. When I saw that, I thought to myself, “If they’re so accurate in such small details regarding the costumes, they must be accurate in the rest of the film.”

After looking into the actual history, I would say that, yes, the movie does a tremendous job depicting the both the actual series of historical events as well as the background culture of the time. The movie does a great job showing the tremendous shifts in Osage society in the 1920’s, and the resulting social problems these changes caused. Props to the filmmakers for including the use of the actual Osage language, a language that is extremely endangered today, in the movie.

Having said that, I did find two inaccuracies that stood out. Jason Isbell (Music Box, Squidbillies) was cast in the role of Bill Smith, who in real life was an Osage man; an odd choice, given how the film makes extensive use of Native actors and actresses, including the lead actress, Lily Gladstone (Billions, Certain Women). The second has to do with Leonardo DiCaprio’s character, who is portrayed extremely sympathetically in this film. Extensive time is spent making his character relatable. To avoid spoilers, I’ll simply say that his actions seem rather at odds with this portrayal.

Still, as Osage tribal member Chad Renfro told Entertainment Weekly in an interview: “I would say it’s as accurate as possible.”

The same can’t be said for Napoleon.

This travesty of a “historical” film feels like someone took a few facts that were half-remembered from high school history class and made a film around that, inventing all the details that fill in the blanks. Even so much as a simple Google search would help to give anyone interested a more accurate picture of Napoleon and his life, but Ridley Scott and his team couldn’t even be bothered with that.

In fact, Scott went so far as to tell The Times of London, “When I have issues with historians, I ask: ‘Excuse me, mate, were you there? No? Well, shut the f**k up then.'”

This attitude truly shows in the final film. He shows Napoleon firing his cannons at the Great Pyramid. He shows a crowd of Reign of Terror victims all locked in the same cell managing to free themselves by stealing the jail cell keys. He doesn’t even bother to get the uniforms of the enemy soldiers right, showing Russian troops wearing Austrian uniforms. Indeed, many key events in Napoleon’s life are either glossed over in a single sentence or not mentioned at all.

The whole movie is a historical disaster. Scott and his crew clearly did not care at all about the history they were portraying on film; they just wanted to show a sexy romance movie with some gory action scenes sprinkled in here and there. Speaking of which…

Are these movies any good?

Martin Scorsese is nearing the end of his long, illustrious career. He is at the point now where nobody is going to tell him “no”. As a result, Killers is very much a Scorsese film. It features all his favorite filmmaking hallmarks, from moody lighting to oddly-timed, jarring reveals to surrealist sequences. If you like Martin Scorsese films, you will definitely like this movie.

Even if Martin Scorsese isn’t your cup of tea, though, I’d argue you still might enjoy this movie. It’s a three-and-a-half-hour movie that doesn’t feel as long as it is, elevated by amazing performances from DiCaprio, DeNiro, and Gladstone. It has twists that, to those unfamiliar with the story before watching the movie (such as myself), are truly surprising. It has a slow buildup that pays dividends as you watch our main characters’ fall from grace. Overall, I would give Killers of the Flower Moon a 9 out of 10.

Napoleon, meanwhile, was clearly misnamed. The filmmakers should have named it “Napoleon and Josephine”, as this was what the movie was clearly about.

Those who saw the trailers and expected a “Napoleon’s greatest hits” film about military campaigns and political intrigue will be sorely disappointed. The heart and crux of this movie is the relationship between Napoleon and his first wife. Most of the runtime is dedicated to depicting their stormy love life, both with each other and with other partners they were seeing on the side throughout their marriage. Indeed, their sex lives are particularly emphasized to a degree that made me feel more than a bit uncomfortable.

So, okay, this is a movie that’s mainly about Napoleon’s love life. Fine. If that’s the case, though, then the casting director needed to make absolutely sure that the lead actor and actress have good on-screen chemistry with each other. Phoenix and Vanessa Kirby (Pieces of a Woman, The Crown) absolutely do not. Their interactions feel wooden and forced, and every time the script tried to portray them in a romantic way with each other, I couldn’t help but cringe at the awkwardness on the screen.

They aren’t helped by a script that is an all-over-the-place mess. Lines that are meant to sound romantic or sexy come across as anything but. The insistence on including battle scenes in a film like this feels like someone spliced together two different movies with different tones and themes. What “political intrigue” the film depicts is presented in the most heavy-handed, “We don’t trust the audience to make the connections themselves” sort of way.

Yet I still have to come back to the lack of chemistry in the lead actor and actress. The failure of this movie to deliver on the one thing a romance film lives or dies on only made all the historical inaccuracies stand out like an entire field of sore thumbs. If a historical film isn’t very accurate, but is an overall good movie nonetheless, audiences are willing to forgive the filmmakers for getting the history wrong in the service of storytelling, as Ridley Scott himself showed with his earlier movie Gladiator. Yet he simply couldn’t repeat that success with this trainwreck.

The one thing Napoleon earns credit for from me is the cinematography. Dariusz Wolski (The Martian, Crimson Tide) knows how to make a film look good. It’s far too bad that his talents are wasted here. Even with the film looking gorgeous, I can only give this beautiful trash heap a 3 out of 10.

Comparing these films side-by-side offers some interesting lessons. First, it shows that you can make a great movie based on historical events by letting said events speak for themselves and provide the drama without having to “Hollywoodize” what happened. It shows that trying to play fast and loose with history can be risky, as you can actually make the film much worse. Historical accuracy aside, it shows the importance of good casting and a good script. It also shows that visuals alone can only take a movie so far.

Hopefully, if Hollywood is going to keep making movies about real events of the past, they learn some lessons from these two examples.

The Darkest Batman Yet

It’s been far too long since I’ve done one of these.

After watching The Batman, the most recent iteration of the famous superhero with Robert Pattinson (Twilight, Good Time) taking on the role, my mind was filled with quite a few thoughts. Thoughts about the legacy and the baggage that comes with making a new movie based on a long-established franchise. Thoughts about the ways in which we relate to the characters we grew up with. Thoughts about how my preconceived notions will color my enjoyment of a film. These thoughts are what led me to write this movie review.

The Batman is a technical marvel, arguably the best-made movie about the caped crusader yet. It has amazing special effects that find the perfect, seamless balance between the practical and the digital. It has beautiful set design that the amazing cinematography highlights and accentuates to build the gothic atmosphere that director Matt Reeves (Cloverfield, War for the Planet of the Apes) is going for. Even the costume design is thoughtful and clever. Most of the cast pulled off amazing performances; I think that Jeffrey Wright (The French Dispatch, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay) might just be my favorite Lt. Jim Gordon yet, and Zoë Kravitz (Mad Max: Fury Road, Divergent) pulls off an excellent performance as Catwoman.

Yet I hated this movie.

Even acknowledging that, objectively, this is a great movie from a pure filmmaking perspective. I don’t regret having seen the film at all. In spite of this, I couldn’t help but be disgusted by what Reeves and Pattinson did to Batman as a character.

As I watched this three-hour movie, I found myself constantly thinking of the old Batman TV series from the 1960’s starring Adam West. Famously, that series was goofy, campy, idealistic, childish, and fun. Ever since that series ended, almost every version of Batman that has been produced has tried to distance itself from that particular portrayal of the character. With each passing generation, Batman has become darker, more serious, more realistic, and more grounded. This new film seems to have pushed that pendulum as far in that direction as it will possibly go.

I get the impression that the filmmakers asked themselves, “If Bruce Wayne were a real-life human being, what would he be like?” The best way I can describe their answer is “a serial killer who doesn’t kill”. Pattinson’s Batman is explicitly shown to be a psychologically unstable, demented, and dangerous man. He calls his nightly campaign against the criminals of the city “The Gotham Project”. He nakedly neglects his duties to Wayne Enterprises and his responsibilities as Bruce Wayne in favor of obsessively being Batman. In one scene, he straight-up ruins one of the rooms in Wayne Manor by spray-painting his broken thoughts about the case he is solving on the floor. He even creepily stalks a woman in one scene. Not exactly behavior that I would associate with a hero.

The film makes this parallel very explicit as well, as the story pits this twisted version of Batman up against a version of the Riddler (played by Paul Dano) who is a serial killer. Again and again, the film hammers home that these two men are not very far apart at all. This theme gives the whole movie a very creepy vibe that I’m not fond of at all, and it makes me question why the Gotham police, and Lt. Gordon in particular, tolerate this masked vigilante.

There are a few other minor gripes that I have about this movie. I think Andy Serkis (Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Black Panther) is badly miscast in the role of Alfred. He tries his best, but he just doesn’t have the right personality or chemistry needed to be convincing in the part. The soundtrack was also not my favorite, alternating between classical music and the moody guitar notes of Nirvana, giving a very jarring effect.

Yet I did like some of the elements included in this movie. I liked that this particular Batman is shown to live up to the moniker “The World’s Greatest Detective”. Many versions of Batman over the years just have our hero punch bad guys until they spill the beans on the villain’s plot. This version actually investigates crime scenes looking for clues that the police might miss. I also liked how the movie contrasted Batman and Catwoman, two characters who both are ultimately out to find justice but come from very different backgrounds that shape the very different methods they use to pursue that goal.

Even so, for all the many, many positive aspects of this movie that I can rattle off, nothing could overcome my personal distaste for this particular portrayal. To me, this is NOT Batman. This is not the Bruce Wayne that I grew up with, this is not the superhero that millions of children dress up as on Halloween, this is not the character that is beloved around the world. To me, Batman is a relatable, if tragic, figure who turns the trauma of his past into his motivation for doing good, using the resources and gifts he inherited to make the city he loves a better place, albeit through less-than-conventional means. Pattinson’s Batman is a scary, twisted creep who has a compulsion to beat up those he judges as worthy of a beat-down.

I want to watch a Batman that can have some fun. I want to watch a Batman that isn’t ashamed of his origins as a comic book character. I want to watch a Batman that people can look up to as a role model. What I don’t want to watch is a film production that pushes a character so far in a particular direction that it completely misses the point of what made that character compelling in the first place. No matter how good of a job such a production does in making a very high-quality film, I simply won’t be able to set the filmmakers’ original sin aside and enjoy the movie.

1917: A masterclass in genre blending

There have been many movies about the First World War over the years. The first ones came out while the war was still being fought, and it seems every generation since has tried on multiple occasions to try to understand the bloody conflict through a movie camera lens. Sure, the list of films that depict the war’s much more devastating sequel is much longer, but the fact remains that any filmmaker that wants to attempt a WWI film of his or her her own faces a daunting challenge: how to make the film interesting, and not simply a retread of the same thing over and over again. How do you make it fresh?

This was the challenge that faced director Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition) when he went to make his own film about the horrors of war in the trenches of the Western Front. Mendes was inspired by his grandfather, Alfred Mendes, a Trinidadian author who fought in the war and shared his experiences with his grandson while he was growing up. One wonders what conversations were had in Hollywood studio offices as Mendes pitched 1917, a film inspired by his grandfather’s stories. Obviously, this pitch was successful, as 1917 is nominated for ten Oscars, including Best Picture. So, how did Mendes manage to make it fresh?

By taking that figure of speech, “horrors of war”, literally. See, while 1917 may technically be a war drama, it isn’t filmed the way a classical war drama would be. Instead, it takes its cues from the horror genre. Its pacing, lighting, editing, framing, musical score, and cinematography are all much more reminiscent of Halloween or The Thing than All Quiet on the Western Front. They even include several jump-scares!

Now, to be clear, this film has no ghosts, monsters, or slashers. It doesn’t need them, as seeing what actual soldiers who fought in the Western Front had to go through is scary and horrifying enough. The result is an incredibly effective film that is truly edge-of-your-seat tense, as it makes you frightened for what is going to happen to the two soldiers (played by Dean-Charles Chapman and George MacKay) who are the film’s main protagonists.

Now, I have to give credit to the two actors for their compelling portrayal of a pair of British soldiers trying to complete an incredibly dangerous mission all on their own, but the film has one more ace up its sleeve to keep us invested. Mendes and cinematographer Roger Deakins (Fargo, No Country For Old Men) decided to pull a stunt that appears to have become popular recently, and film it all in a way that makes it look like a single, long take with no cuts. This is a very difficult way to film, and requires quite a lot of skill to pull it off well. I am happy to report that they succeeded with 1917, and the end result helps to keep the tension going as it means you never really get a break in the action.

While we’re on the subject of things this movie does well, I would like to give a quick shout-out to the attention to historical detail this movie had. Set during Operation Alberich, a strategic German retreat to a much stronger and more easily defensible position, our two main characters are British soldiers sent to warn a unit that is pursuing the Germans that they are walking into a trap. As a result, they have to make their way across a landscape that has been devastated by the fighting. The filmmakers did an excellent job of portraying what life on the Western Front was like and showcasing historical details that often get missed by other filmmakers. For instance, time is spent to showcase how far superior the German trench-works and rations were to those of the British. We see scenes of devastated French towns that look just like photographs of those ruined towns taken at the time. The film even acknowledges the more than 2.8 million soldiers fighting for the British who came from across its vast global Empire.

This film is an excellent example of genre-blending done right. It showcases how thinking outside the box can make something you’ve seen before feel completely new, while also paying respect to the people who actually fought in the First World War with its attention to detail. It is a thoroughly enjoyable experience for history buffs and for horror movie buffs. As of writing, I don’t know whether it will get the Academy Award for Best Picture or not, but if it does, it will have truly earned it.

To the Stars through a Difficult Viewing

Ad Astra Per Aspera – Latin for ‘to the stars through difficulties’ – is the official motto of the state of Kansas and the South African Air Force, and is widely used among many other governments, organizations, and universities, as well as being referenced in music, literature, and popular culture. It’s almost surprising that it has taken this long for a science fiction film about space exploration to reference this well-known phrase in its title. I was first made aware of the film Ad Astra while watching baseball on TV, as a trailer for the film played during the commercial break. A major Hollywood production about a space adventure starring Brad Pitt and Tommy Lee Jones? And it isn’t an adaptation of a comic book or part of a decades-old franchise? I just had to see it for myself.

Then I left the theater, and it took me a while to put my finger on why, exactly, I didn’t like this movie.

At first glance, I should love it. Ad Astra is a work of “hard sci-fi”, a sub-genre I really enjoy that focuses on the “science” part of science fiction with super-realistic and grounded predictions of future technology and actual physics. Think movies like The Martian or Gravity. Ad Astra attempts to imagine what a future where humanity has colonized the moon and Mars would actually look like given the state of current technology and global politics. It stars two very good actors who are giving excellent performances. It has an excellent premise: astronaut Roy McBride (Pitt) learns that his long-lost father (Jones) may still be alive at the edge of the solar system, conducting a deep-space experiment that threatens to wipe out all life on Earth. It’s a premise that has built-in emotional tension and a mystery you want to see the hero solve.

I also have to complement the film on its attitude toward exposition. All too often, sci-fi and fantasy stories have to explain to the audience the background for what’s happening through either a ton of awkward narration or the inclusion of an audience-point-of-view “fish out of water” character who has to have everything explained to him or her. Ad Astra eschews that. Instead, it takes a “show, don’t tell” approach to world-building, trusting the audience to be smart enough to put the pieces together. All the characters we follow live in this world, and treat it as everyday and normal. The futuristic and fantastical elements of this world that we see are exposed to the audience through the characters’ mundane interactions with these elements. It’s a challenge to do this type of exposition well, and Ad Astra definitely succeeds.

Yet for all this film has going for it, I can’t help but feel it is constantly undercutting itself. The biggest piece of this is the direction. The cinematography and style of a hard sci-fi film should feel just as grounded and real as its setting, like a PBS documentary. Instead, director James Gray (The Immigrant, The Lost City of Z) decided to go for a super-stylized, surreal, dreamlike look and feel for his movie. This film is super-artsy, with odd cuts, fancy fades between scenes, bizarre lighting choices, and lots of Dutch angles, to the point where it becomes quite distracting and you get the impression he was trying too hard. Even worse, it was apparently decided at some point along the way that we needed to constantly hear Roy McBride’s inner thoughts as he goes about his mission. It quickly gets very distracting.

That’s another thing I couldn’t enjoy about this movie: its hero. Our main character is a real jerk. On the surface, he looks and acts like a stoic, calm-under-pressure, competent astronaut, but as we hear practically everything he’s thinking, we can see that he sees himself as far superior to all the idiot normals around him and doesn’t really like or trust anyone. Admittedly, this is just a personal preference of mine, but I want to like the protagonist of a movie I’m watching. I want to root for the hero, and I can’t do that if the hero is a terrible person.

Lastly, the film has a few plot twists that seem very contrived and convenient. Sure, the film knows how to world-build when it comes to technology and society, but when it comes to the actual interactions between the characters and events that advance the story, the writing is just weak. It feels like they were more interested in forcing the film to move on to the next plot point than letting the characters get there naturally. Not only that, but some decisions that the characters make during this film’s runtime just seem downright stupid.

I don’t hate Ad Astra, and there are parts of it that I genuinely like. Unfortunately, its flaws don’t outweigh its strengths to me. As much as it is disappointing for me to do so, I have to give it 4 out of 10.

A Big, Bohemian Mess of a Movie

Queen was one of the most unique and iconic bands of the 1970’s and 1980’s, with a style and charisma all their own. Lead singer Freddie Mercury has gone down as one of rock history’s greats, and he certainly lived like a rock star in his day. That a movie about this band would be made was surely inevitable. However, I did not expect it to be this kind of movie.

This is an Oscar bait film.

First of all, the film was released near the end of the year, a tactic often used by films that are hoping to snag some Academy Awards in order to be fresh in the minds of Academy voters. It also picked a subject matter that plays at Hollywood’s love of nostalgia. What really gives it away as Oscar bait, though, is the movie’s style.

The cinematography has that characteristic, super-serious “I’m a biopic about some important person in history and you should take me seriously” style. Over-lit and washed-out with lots of white; conversations filmed and edited into a bog-standard “shot-reverse shot” series of close-ups. Every scene having a self-important sense of gravitas. The sort of film-making that characterizes such films as The King’s Speech or Argo or 12 Years A Slave. Not that that’s a bad thing; I do enjoy that sort of film. I’m just not convinced that it’s appropriate for the story of a band as rebellious, as energetic, and as fun as Queen. The style and the subject matter clash at a very fundamental level.

So, why? Why make this an Oscar bait movie? Well, I don’t know, obviously; I wasn’t in the Hollywood boardrooms where these decisions are made. But I do have an educated guess, and it all has to do with the film’s director: Bryan Singer (X-Men, The Usual Suspects).

See, there have multiple accusations of sexual harassment and sexual assault against Singer, and in 2014 he fought multiple lawsuits over these allegations. It wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out that Singer was hoping that winning some Academy Awards would redeem him in the minds of his Hollywood peers and the general public, allowing him to move past these allegations. Again, that’s just a guess on my part, and I could be completely wrong. Regardless of what Singer’s intentions were, he was fired just one month before filming on the movie was completed, and Dexter Fletcher had to step in to finish the film.

In any case, the style choice clearly works to this film’s detriment. This movie makes Queen look boring and lame, two adjectives that by rights should never be applied to this band. When the band’s most iconic songs are played – something any movie about any band would obviously want to do – it feels like a crutch. “Remember this song? Don’t you love it? Don’t you, by extension, love this film?”

That’s just the beginning of this movie’s problems. In any biopic, you want the movie to be about something. You want to focus on one aspect of the character or historical event you are portraying and really drive home your thesis about it. Operation Finale did a great job with this, taking a deep look at what kinds of men its main hero and villain were. Bohemian Rhapsody, in contrast, feels like it just doesn’t know what it wants to say. Is it about the struggles of an artist against the system? About the complicated relationships in Freddie Mercury’s life? A cautionary tale about the dangers of hard living? It feels like the film just can’t make up its mind. The whole movie is just one plot thread after another that starts and stops with no real coherence to them and no satisfactory conclusion to any of them.

One aspect of the movie that really suffers is the haphazard and mishandled “exploration” of Mercury’s backstory. We see hints at his troubled relationship with his family, and the clash between the sort of man Farrokh Bulsara (Mercury’s real name) was and his family’s conservative Indian traditions and values. Yet we only see glimpses of this conflict in a handful of scenes. In fact, for most of the movie’s runtime, it’s easy to forget that the film ever brought the singer’s family up at all. It’s like it’s there just to be a little token lip service to Mercury’s heritage. Heck, there are two specific times in the film where people throw racial slurs at him, and that is literally all that we see of Mercury having to deal with racism. I mean, if you are going to bring these topics up, you should actually examine them!

Having said all of that, I didn’t hate the movie. It has many good parts. Rami Malek (Mr. Robot, The Master) does a phenomenal job portraying Mercury. The scenes where we watch the band crafting their most memorable songs really work well at showing the creative process and the way the dynamics between the band members helped shape their music. My favorite scene is the one where the band members argue over “I’m In Love With My Car”. Yes, really.

The strongest part of the movie, however, comes in the final act. The climax is centered around Queen’s performance at Live Aid in 1985, and it is a real tear-jerker. It is a very powerful, emotional, and effective ending to the movie. If this movie does win any Oscars, it will be for Malek’s magnificent performance in these final scenes. It’s just such a shame that the rest of the movie couldn’t be as good as that ending.

Between the super-serious biopic style, the confusing mess of half-formed plot threads that covers most of the runtime, and the lack of any coherent message or theme, this movie’s good parts just aren’t enough to elevate the whole. I’m giving it a 5 out of 10. Another one bites the dust, indeed.