Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours, 32 minutes
Director: Ridley Scott
Quick Impressions:
I said I would see Dune on the biggest screen available at my first opportunity, but I lied. I considered it. In the middle of the night, I hovered over the available seats for some time. And then (after my window for buying tickets had run out), I came back and hovered over them again later. (I mean with a mouse on a computer screen, obviously. I don’t haunt the movie theater at night, gliding over all the seats with a spectral wail. If I were already dead, I would be totally fine with seeing Dune in a massive auditorium packed with people whose vaccination status is unknown. (Maybe a weekday morning…)
Choosing not to see Dune was pretty easy once I realized The French Dispatch and Mass were also out. I weighed those options in the back of my mind as I spent the better part of the night writing about Gladiator. By the time I was finished, I realized, “You know, I think we should see The Last Duel.”
What better time to watch a new Ridley Scott movie than right after spending days meditating on Gladiator! Plus not only was it written by Matt Damon and Ben Affleck who seem due for another Oscar nomination for writing a screenplay together (because that hasn’t happened for a while! Doesn’t that sound fun?), but Nicole Holofcener is the third co-writer, and I really loved Can You Ever Forgive Me?.
Also my sister had mentioned that the film focuses on the same historical event from multiple points of view. (I can never resist that!) And as an added bonus, I found it playing somewhere in an auditorium with fewer than forty seats. (Hard to pack too many people in there!)
By the time we got to The Last Duel, I was actively excited to see it, just as excited as I’ve been for Dune (for the past two years). My only regret now is that I ever convinced myself it was okay to ignore new movies for three months. I never would have done that in the past! (How will I possibly catch up? What was I thinking?)
Before I say anything else about The Last Duel, I should mention that its central event is a rape (unless you consider its central event the trial by combat brought about by the resulting accusation of rape). Just a trigger warning. The rape is shown more than once and talked about at length.
We learn the principal events from three points of view. As I watched, I expected the story to culminate in a single event, the actual trial by combat itself. Then late in the film, as a key player is interrogated, I suddenly thought, “What if this is one of those movies that doesn’t show us the outcome? What if the movie abruptly ends just before the duel actually happens?”
Just then, the screen went dark, and the emergency lights flashed on. The entire theater had lost power.
“I’ve been wondering if we’d get to see the duel,” I said to my husband, realizing sadly, “I guess we won’t.”
I had flashbacks of the time we went to see Magic Mike, and halfway through, lightning struck the theater. The house lights came up, revealing that my husband was, indeed, the only man in the entire packed auditorium, except the usher. He looked like he was in high school, but that didn’t stop a group of women (who appeared to be at least my age) from trying to convince him to strip for us until the movie came back. The movie never back. The usher (not surprisingly) never came back either. (He just ducked out and disappeared, and so did we eventually.) To this day, I’ve never seen the second half of Magic Mike (or that usher ever again, but I assume he’s fine).
Fortunately, tonight, the movie did resume. After a short wait, a brief period with just sound and no picture, a quick look back at that key traumatic scene, and a lot of strange fast forwarding, we finally saw the exciting conclusion of The Last Duel. It was worth the wait. I liked this movie a lot.
The Good:
This film is so tricky. I saw it not long after watching Gladiator with my daughter, but the Best Picture winner from that era it really reminds me of is Titanic, famous for being two movies in one (an action movie and a romance). The Last Duel is like that, too. Ostensibly, it’s an action-heavy historical drama about knights. But it’s also a film (with present day sensibilities) about rape. So if watching material about rape makes you uncomfortable, then don’t watch this. We get the story from three points of view. The third viewpoint belongs to the woman who is raped. Neither the costumes nor the fact that this happened hundreds of years ago creates the kind of distance between us and her rape that you might expect. Instead we get surprising immediacy, vivid, violent trauma not only during the event but before and after it, as well. There’s palpable authenticity in the woman’s point of view. And the film explores a question that seems to come up a lot these days. Can someone commit rape without knowing it? If one person believes he has not committed rape, and another believes that she has been raped, and they are reflecting back on the same event, what then?
The structure of the story is simple and familiar, formulaic in a good way (which makes me think that an Oscar (nomination at least) for Best Adapted Screenplay really could lurk in The Last Duel’s future). When I was a child, I lived for episodes of TV shows told in flashback from multiple points of view. Usually those were set up like this. 1) Person A tells a story about an event (which makes Person B look pretty bad). 2) Person B retells the story of this event (in a way that now makes Person A look bad and makes us question everything we heard in Person’s A’s story). 3) Person C tells “the real story.”
By showing Marguerite’s version of the story third, The Last Duel plays into an old formula and gives her version of events greater weight in our minds. (Plus, regardless of formula, anyone who speaks last has an advantage with an audience.) As the film progresses, the succeeding stories also get us closer and closer to the heart of the event. We begin from the point of view of someone (Matt Damon’s Jean de Carrouges) who only heard second hand of the event prompting the duel. Then we see the story of someone (Adam Driver’s Jacques Le Gris) who participated in the event as the aggressor. Only then are we shown the point of view of the person (Jodie Comer’s Marguerite de Carrouges) who participated in the event as the victim. (I keep wanting to say, “We hear the story,” but we’re actually watching in flashback, not getting narration.) (It would be great if we did get narration that didn’t quite match up with the events we see. That would add yet another layer of complexity (and uncertainty!).) (But we don’t.) (Actually, the absence of narration makes all three stories seem truer, which gives us the sense that we may never fully comprehend exactly what happened.) (But Marguerite is awfully persuasive.)
It’s impossible not to watch and reflect that this story could be shown to us without the third part. Two men square off in this joust. I’ve seen plenty of movies (and read plenty of books) (and followed plenty of current events) in which the first man tells his side of the story about what happened to the woman, and then the second man tells his (opposing) side of the story about what happened to the woman. In The Last Duel we also get to hear from the woman herself. The introduction of a woman’s perspective (especially about something that happened to her) is refreshing and welcome. And the introduction of any third perspective suddenly shifts the conversation from, “Which story is true?” to, “Reality is so unknowable because everyone has a distinct point of view! Can we ever know anything? What if the person who hurt me didn’t know it? What if I hurt someone and didn’t know it? What if I made a bad impression on my wife when I started violently beating horses in front of her even thought I intended to come across as a model husband?” (That last question really isn’t for all of us.)
From my point of view, the film gets more interesting as it progresses. (I’m unable to determine how much it matters that I’m a woman myself. Does Marguerite’s perspective interest me more because I can relate to her, or is it just that we’re learning more layers of truth as we go?) The first story from the point of view of Jean de Carrouges (Matt Damon) is nothing surprising. In some ways, it reminded me of the opening of Gladiator (just in a dull, lazy way (lazy on my part, not the film’s)). I thought, “Oh, combat in the woods. Okay.”) On reflection, I don’t really think the fact that I’m a woman is what makes the difference. As the film continues, and we learn new points of view, the story picks up nuance.
Though I find Damon’s character broadly sympathetic, he does get worse and worse with every iteration of the story. (I still think that by the standards of his own day, he’s more in the right than not. Leaving aside questions like 1) Is he a sound tactician? 2) Is he a sensitive husband?, Carrouges has been wronged. For sure. And by the rules of his society, he is in the right.) Initially, I found him very boring, true, but boring people can be wronged in a number of ways just like everyone else.)
Watching Carrouges muddle through his difficult life, I thought, “Matt Damon is a good actor, but he’s not doing anything special here. He’s giving the least Oscar worthy male performance.” (It’s still so early in an Oscar season that seems overstuffed with deserving work (for obvious reasons). Maybe all of these performances will be overlooked entirely. We’ll see.)
“Matt Damon is the least special one,” I thought. And then Jean de Carrouges started yelling at people, and I realized how deeply, deeply wrong I had been. (I was so tempted to title a section of this review, Best Scene Featuring Matt Damon Yelling at People. But then I couldn’t pick just one!) Every time Carrouges lets loose with some impassioned tirade, Damon shines brighter than I’ve ever seen him before. His other scenes aren’t bad. They’re just what you would expect from a solid, run-of-the-mill performance by Matt Damon playing a medieval French career soldier with a conspicuous scar on his cheek. But when he starts yelling at people…Wow!
Ben Affleck is better-than-average in all his scenes. He may give my favorite performance in the film. I know I was always glad to see him. Normally, I don’t watch a movie thinking, “When will Ben Affleck be back?” (I don’t mean that as an insult. I’m just saying he’s really good here.) This is a wonderful part for him. I’ve read that he was supposed to play Le Gris, and then Covid-related delays caused a scheduling conflict that forced him to switch to a smaller role. I’m glad he did. His performance as Count Pierre is one of the strongest I’ve seen from him to date. (I love his work as a director, but his acting is usually kind of hit-or-miss for me.) (I feel like this is turning into a back-handed compliment. What I’m trying to say is that I think Affleck’s the best one in the movie. (I’m being very insulting about it somehow! The more I rewrite this, the worse and worse it gets! I give up!) If only one person from this film gets an Oscar nomination for acting, I hope it’s Affleck (and that’s not just because I feel so guilty for seeming to insult him in this paragraph). He’s conspicuously funny throughout the film, but he gets a nice dramatic moment at the end of the duel that he makes the most of.
Adam Driver has never given a bad performance that I’ve seen. He brings a perplexing sincerity to Le Gris. (As my husband noted, Le Gris comes off rather badly even in his own account of himself and doesn’t seem to notice.) It seems difficult to play a man whose deeply felt passions produce such negative outcomes. As played by Driver, Le Gris is cerebral and passionate all at once, driven by genuine loyalty, deeply felt desires, and sometimes warped opinions (especially of himself and his own thoughts and actions) which he often mistakes for fact because 1) they feel true to him, and 2) he has sufficient education to express himself eloquently. To me, Le Gris is by far the most interesting character in the film, and playing him takes a certain giftedness and skill for showing nuance out of the reach of many actors.
Jodie Comer is also good as Marguerite. I’d really like to see this film again (and I’m sure I will) because when I think back on her performance, I have trouble distinguishing between the reactions I saw on the actress’s face and my own internal reactions to Marguerite’s life as I saw it. (In other words, when I try to remember the performance, I recall what I felt and thought, but I’m not sure which of those reactions Comer was eliciting. (Possibly, this was, in part, because I was so distracted by her hair which had an awful lot of pearls which drew the eye.) I liked Marguerite’s view of the story the best, but I don’t know if my response was elicited more by Comer’s performance or by the way the film was written, directed, and shot. (I’m having trouble explaining this.) I did think she was conspicuously good in the rape scene, particularly in the second version. She also has a wonderful/awful exchange with her exceptionally difficult mother-in-law (Harriet Walter, who has some nice moments herself in a largely unsympathetic role).
I should mention that my husband so loved Alex Lawther in the relatively small role of the king. He liked his clear amusement, how he seemed so offputtingly entertained and delighted, looking almost demented, but in such a pleasant way. For the entire movie, I tried to figure out if he was supposed to be the mad king Charles VI. (He is.) (My knowledge of medieval France is patchy. I knew we were a little bit before both Henry V (being in France) and Joan of Arc, and Lawther’s facial expressions certainly seemed appropriate for Charles VI, but I didn’t know for sure until after the film.) My husband found Lawther’s facial expressions quite diverting.
As always, Ridley Scott is great at recreating historical atmosphere. In terms of sets and costuming, I think The Last Duel is better than Gladiator, which is strong in that area. (Whoever did Marguerite’s hair needs some recognition. I love that her name is the French form of Margaret, and that her hair is so often full of pearls.) We get plenty of (sometimes gruesome) action (that I’m bad at following) too. I generally like Ridley Scott’s movies, but I liked this one more than most. It’s a bold and creative choice to conceal an exploration of rape (at least partially from a female victim’s viewpoint) inside a historical action movie. I find it interesting that Scott could have made the historical action costume drama without the serious exploration of point of view and rape. Similarly, this nuanced story of rape from three points of view could have been told Our Town style without the elaborate sets and costuming and action sequences. You get twice the movie for your money when you buy a ticket to this film.
Best Scene:
One moment I love is the scene that was playing just when the theater lost power. Probably everyone has a sense of how trial by combat works for the two combatants. One will kill the other. The one to whom God grants victory will have been judged to be the in the right. That’s all straight forward enough. But when we get to hear how the outcome of the duel will affect Marguerite, suddenly both my husband and I were one million times more invested in the outcome of that duel. (The audience watching with us got to hear that horrifically vivid description of what could happen to her twice because the movie restarted in the wrong place, and the theater employees trying to find the right spot had never seen the film themselves.)
Also fantastic is that outdoor banquet scene when Carrouges marches up and starts yelling at Count Pierre and Le Gris. We see this encounter twice (everyone does; you’re supposed to), and Damon shines in both versions. He also yells at them at an indoor banquet. Again, when on a tirade, Damon is at his best. Driver’s also quite compelling in the second version of this indoor scene.
Best Scene Visually:
All I can think about is Marguerite’s elaborate hair. (I kept thinking, “A hairstyle like that would be so time intensive. Who does that for her? In the medieval period, a person’s entire life might be devoted to doing someone’s hair. But people devote their entire life to doing others’ hair now, too! Why can’t you do your hair, Sarah?”
Those latticed windows she’s always peering through are so eye-catching, too.
Best Action Sequence:
I like the foreshadowing of the orgy scene. (It’s not an orgy, really. A group dynamic like that would constitute an orgy at our house, but we often have Halloween parties with just our immediate family, so we’re very dull people. I can’t think of a more appropriate word, though. Googling it only slowed my progress in finishing this paragraph.) I’m not sure it’s technically large enough to qualify as an orgy, but I mean the small-but-lively sex party that always seems to be happening in Count Ben Affleck’s court.
When Le Gris says to a very willing woman, “If you run, I’ll only chase you,” and then she screams (in delight) and makes a great show of running away before he catches her and throws her face down on the bed, I thought, “Ohhh, I see.” It’s great foreshadowing. Affleck makes the scene so fun that even though we’re getting obvious foreshadowing, it doesn’t feel heavy handed.
By the time we get to the duel itself, we’re really ready to see it. (At least, my husband and I were on the edge of our seats.) So that scene gives us captivating action, too.
I also loved the second presentation of the rape scene. The fundamental details don’t change significantly, but seeing Marguerite’s story leading up to this point adds further nuance to the awful moment.
The Negatives:
I understand why Jean de Carrouges has to show us his story first. He’s the least complex character. (At least, he’s the character least likely to explore his thoughts and discover his own complexity. And certainly, he won’t express that verbally to us.) Plus, if we’re going to find him sympathetic, we’re more likely to do that before we’ve seen anyone else’s take on the story. Carrouges is a man of action and a man of honor. But he is very, very, very boring.
To me, that’s the film’s biggest flaw. Compared to the rest of the movie, its opening third seems markedly boring and also quite shallow (and just kind of flat) (and a little slow). (But now, in fairness, I don’t care much about battles. It’s not that I think warfare is unimportant. I’m just not the person who should be conducting the battles. (And, after watching this entire film, I’m not entirely convinced de Carrouges should be either although his extensive experience in hand-to-hand combat surely comes in handy for him later on).)
I wish the power hadn’t gone off for twenty minutes right before we watched the duel itself because it left me with the sense that the ending of the movie was slow and prolonged (and I doubt it really is when you experience it without the surprise gap).
But the aspect of the film that bothered me most is probably something intended to upset me. One character in The Last Duel drove me absolutely crazy. Marguerite has enough trouble with the men in her life. Her husband defends her honor by endangering her. His enemy allegedly loves her, yet doesn’t seem to understand the word “no,” even when it’s screamed at him repeatedly. The women in her life aren’t great either. (My husband almost jumped into the movie to tell off the mother-in-law at one point.) Under the circumstances, I can see why Marguerite husband’s mother would behave the way she does (though she’s a very unpleasant person, I agree).
What is going on with Marguerite’s friend, though? This character (Tallulah Haddon’s Marie) made me so exasperated that I spent the entire ride home ranting about her. She’s a terrible, terrible friend. At first, she just seems inconsiderate. My husband was not a fan of her decision to run right over and joyfully announce her pregnancy. But that kind of thing happens all the time. She might not be malicious there, just annoyingly oblivious. But why does she behave like she does in response to the rape allegation? (I understand and applaud the film’s realism here. Even today, this so often happens to women when they reveal that they have been raped.) But still, the character makes me so angry.
For one thing, what Marie does is just so unnecessary (especially when you consider that the easiest thing to say is always nothing). I know it can be hard sometimes to be a good friend, but it cannot possibly be hard to be a better friend than Marie. Look at Affleck’s character, a seedy, corrupt, libertine count. Whatever else he is, he’s a great friend. He cares about Le Gris. He stands by him. He helps him. He genuinely feels concern for him and reacts in dismay to his misfortunes. And he’s not exactly a paragon of virtue! Marie’s baffling perfidy is just mind-boggling to me. I wish we got the story from her point of view, too, because I’d love to know what’s motivating her! My husband suspects that perhaps she was also raped by Le Gris, or had an affair with him, or wanted to have an affair with him. I suspect that she’s just a huge jerk, but that’s not fair (I guess). No, it is fair. Her behavior is horrible and senseless. I do not understand why she would treat someone she considers a friend that way. (Frankly, there’s no need to treat even your enemies that way. Maybe you should shut up and mind your own business, Marie.) Also, from watching, I could not tell from her reactions how exactly she felt about what was happening as the situation continued to develop. Clearly three points of view were not enough to tell the whole story here. (Frankly, Marguerite’s hostile mother-in-law reacted in a more helpful way than Marie. At least she provided food for thought.)
I had trouble pinning down Jodie Comer’s accent, too. To me, it seemed to change sometimes, but my husband didn’t think so.
Overall:
I’m glad I got scared to see Dune in a packed movie theater because I truly enjoyed The Last Duel. Not only do I intend to read the book, but I’ve now decided that my daughter and I should watch Good Will Hunting together even though it didn’t win Best Picture. My sister also liked The Last Duel, and we don’t always have the same taste in movies. (I think the last film we both enthusiastically enjoyed was The VVitch.) But by giving the audience three accounts of the same story, The Last Duel appealed to the historian in her and the writer in me. I’ll watch this movie again for sure. Its Oscar worthy in most noticeable aspects. (I feel like I need to see it again, too. I’ve gotten spoiled by being able to pause, rewind, and turn on subtitles at home.) Also, between the time I started writing this review and now, I bought tickets to Dune. I guess I hovered over the seats so long that I turned into a ghost, so it will all be okay. Expect a post about that film soon.