Buse Keskin has already reviewed Napoleon here for his paper. There is much in her review that I agree with, but I feel that such an epic film allows for other angles to also be explored, so I have decided to write an additional review that particularly focuses on some of its psychological issues.

To begin though, I would like to address the subject of the length of Napoleon, as it is a bit of an ordeal to sit through it all. However, the fault for this does not lie with the director Ridley Scott, but in the sheer richness of his subject. The life and times of this monumental figure contain so many points of interest that Scott has clearly had to disregard so much and has still wound up with such a long running time.

It is perhaps a pity that more than one film on the French Emperor was not greenlighted. Peter Jackson was permitted to turn a relatively short and highly endearing children’s book, "The Hobbit," into a three-part film, and ruined it in the process, while Marvell’s "Infinity War" seems the best named of their many multi-part cinematic series as the whole thing seems to go on interminably, with each film being pretty much a carbon copy of the other.

Moreover, considering the historical events that he needed to compact into his film, it is much to the credit of Scott that he has not simply produced a movie in which battle follows battle. The historical Napoleon engaged in more than enough of them for this to have been a possible approach. Yet it would have been insufferably dull, and Scott instead brilliantly balances the public Napoleon – the warrior and the astute politician with the private one. Thus, the personality of this historical figure is clearly and masterfully revealed to us by the phenomenal acting of Joaquin Phoenix and a highly watchable film is the result.

Napoleon complex vs. Oedipus complex

For we are shown Napoleon as a psychologically complex character. As for specific complexes, as is well-known, Napoleon even has a complex named after him. It is the idea that a person of short stature is impelled to make a greater mark on the world in an Adlerian kind of compensation, although Alfred Adler, the first of Sigmund Freud’s followers to break away from the psychoanalysis movement, did not name this complex. In the film, there are a couple of nods to the so-called Napoleon Complex. The first occurs in Egypt when Napoleon has to stand on a wooden box in order for he is able to come face to face with a mummy in an upright sarcophagus. The second is when he lays eyes on his new Austrian bride Marie Louise for the first time. He tells her "You are quite petite. I’m not accustomed to that." However, these are light touches, and as such the film seems to be mocking the so-called Napoleon Complex rather than suggesting that Napoleon’s character can be explained by it.

Yet, there is a complex in the character of Napoleon at play in the film, and it is arguable that instead of a Napoleon complex he is suffering from an Oedipus complex. Although the screen time devoted to Napoleon’s mother is limited, her presence in the film is heavy, but what is particularly striking is that in his relationship with his wife Josephine, Napoleon has an overpowering need for a maternal kind of support from her. Before examining this issue, I have to reluctantly find fault with what is otherwise for me, in general, a brilliant film.

I completely concur with Keskin who describes Vanessa Kirby’s portrayal of Josephine as "mesmerizing." Yet, criticism has been made that Kirby’s age is problematic as she appears much younger than Napoleon in the film whereas, in reality, she ought to be six years his senior. It is of course true that even with the correct age gap, Josephine would hardly be of the age of Napoleon’s mother, but in the society of the time in which men generally married younger women, the attraction the historical Napoleon has to an older woman is highly significant. The criticism of the age of Josephine in the film does not simply affect a psychological reading, but it also affects the plot itself. Josephine’s being too old to conceive means that the emperor cannot produce an heir with her and this is a central issue in the film.

Yet, despite her appearance, the nature of the relationship between Napoleon and Josephine is what makes the film so compelling. Regardless of his growing public stature, Napoleon appears unsure of himself around Josephine and seeks a maternal-like validation from her, revealing the true balance of their relationship. This is manifested many times in the film from his juvenile inability to await his turn to utter his "I do" in their wedding ceremony to the scene in which he attempts to dominate her, and in which although she seemingly submits, she soon turns the tables completely on him.

She is clearly at the center of his life. As the divorce between them is impending, Napoleon tells her that she is "the only woman I’ve ever loved," and he also tells her that the "few moments of happiness I’ve had in this world" are due to her. At the divorce, he tells her that "you have embellished my life for fifteen years" and he needs to hear from Josephine that the divorce will not change her feelings for him. The emotion that is missing in the steely-eyed Napoleon as he watches the cruel deaths of his enemies at Austerlitz more than manifests itself afterward in his distress at these divorce proceedings.

It is to be noted here that the film also deserves praise for not vanishing Josephine the moment that the marriage between her and Napoleon ended, but that she retains a strong presence from that point on as well. This reflects the fact that Napoleon’s childlike need for her remains. It is why after they are divorced, he comes to her and tells her "I miss you," and demands constant letters from her. What is perhaps most remarkable is a scene in which Napoleon brings the son he has had with Marie Louise to Josephine. He presents the boy to her in the need of the aforementioned maternal-like validation to the former Empress who wistfully regards the boy she is now holding, aware that had she been fated to have his heir they would not now be separate.

Despite his formal repudiation of her, Napoleon never feels worthy of Josephine. This is particularly evident after she has died. If one accepts that dreams are the emanations of our own psyches, then it is extremely significant that Josephine will not visit Napoleon in his dreams when he is in exile, though he desires her to. Her utter hold upon his character is also revealed right at the end of the film when we are informed that the final word he utters is that of Josephine.

Inferiority complex

It is possible that a Freudian reading is not required for the film and that an Adlerian one of an Inferiority Complex is more apt. However, contextualization is required before progressing on this line. The French Revolution is well depicted in the film as a period of ongoing instability. Indeed, but for that fact, the rise of Napoleon to supreme power as a supposedly stabilizing figure would have been impossible. Instability is change, but not all the change in the film is negative. It also marks the beginning of our own time in which people are able to make something of their own lives rather than being manacled to their situation at birth. This, after all, is a story of a soldier who through his own efforts rises far above his background. Symbolically this reaches his apogee when he literally crowns himself emperor.

However, in such a period of transition, the old set of values starts to weaken but still contains great potency. Thus, there is an aspect to the film that due to our own zeitgeist we cannot appreciate properly, and that is the great degree to which blood and descent still matter at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Thus, for the elite of Europe at the time there is consternation that the parvenu Napoleon has broken into and indeed reached the top of European society. It is why, the British ambassador describes him as having "no manners" and Napoleon is even told that the European elite "think nothing more of you than a Corsican thug." This also explains the emperor’s problems in finding a replacement for Josephine.

In seeking a new bride, Napoleon wishes to marry into one of the families of established European royalty. At Tilsit, he approaches the Tsar with an offer for his eldest daughter. The Tsar is willing to ally his country with Napoleon’s empire, but not his family through matrimony to this upstart. Thus he rebuffs Napoleon, and the way in which Napoleon takes it suggests that he suffers an inferiority complex vis-à-vis these established European rulers even as he defeats them on the battlefield, for he does not press the issue. Thus, although Napoleon is not depicted with a Napoleon complex regarding his physical height, he does keenly feel his lesser original societal stature. Indeed, it may be the key to his whole story as it explains his relentless ambition as a need to redefine himself.

Another suggestion of an inferiority complex is manifested in the film when Napoleon meets the Austrian emperor Francis after he has inflicted the crushing defeat at Austerlitz on him and he exclaims "It’s nice to finally meet another emperor," betraying his insecurity over his self-made status by needing to vocalize it. For one is led to think that it is highly unlikely that Francis himself or Tsar, both secure emperors by the right of birth, have ever felt the need to utter these words. An inferiority complex may also be evident when he first meets Marie Louise for the first time in that he asks her "Do I look like my portrait?" any portrait of the emperor having been made in a propagandist manner to emphasize imperial masculinity, with Napoleon himself fearful he fails to look the part in real life.

A further psychological element that is manifested in the film is of a great man who can conquer the world but who lacks self-awareness. It may be of course, that the latter is a prerequisite for the former. Whatever the case, Napoleon often reveals his lack of self-awareness in the film. He, for instance, confronts Josephine with the assertion that "I’m not subject to petty insecurity" while his actions scream otherwise. Elsewhere he tells Talleyrand that "I’m not ambitious" – an odd remark for a man who makes himself emperor. Here the insight of another post-Freudian will be drawn on – that of Eric Fromm.

Fromm notes that the increasing individualization in society which allows one the freedom to make one’s own life is matched by an increase in anxiety at also becoming responsible for it. Napoleon certainly used the new chances available to him as a citizen in the French Revolution to rise to power, but he also created a defense mechanism to deflect responsibility for his actions. He behaves as if all of what he does is fated and thus outside of blame. Hence, for the impending divorce, Napoleon frees himself from culpability for it by asserting that "destiny is more powerful than my will." When things turn sour in the failed invasion of Russia, Napoleon declares that "fortune has abandoned me." It is "destiny" not himself that is responsible for his doings. All of this also means that when he learns of Josephine’s death, although he is deeply wounded by it, he also displays an unsavory need to feel guiltless concerning it. Though to returns to the maternal-like role of Josephine, at an earlier point when she is still alive, she is able to reprimand him and break through his self-delusive defenses by directly telling him the truth that it is his "mistaken ambition" that guides his actions.

Artistry of film

Although this review has mainly dealt with psychological issues, there are a couple of other elements in it I would also like to touch upon. One that I particularly enjoyed in the film is that some of the scenes seemed to reflect the light and colorful palette of the public work of Francisco de Goya, the preeminent artist of the period and one of the greatest artists of all time. The scene in which the command "Shall we vote" is uttered as rifles are leveled at the assembled politicians resembles, albeit less violently, Goya’s "The Third of May 1808." The color of the masked ball in which the victory at Austerlitz is celebrated also reflects those of Goya. There are tapestries on the wall of Napoleon and Josephine’s bedroom and although these are not works of Goya they do reflect the work that allowed for the artist’s own rise to fame in his lifetime. Ironically, in later life, Goya’s palette turns dark and the same is true of the film. From the invasion of Russia onward, darkness literally pervades the movie.

Turkish connections

The other element is since this is a review for a Turkish newspaper, the Turkish connections in the film. The most prominent is his invasion of Egypt, which is, though not made clear in the film, a violation of Ottoman sovereignty. It is an important event in Ottoman history for though this sovereignty will be de jure restored, the invasion marks the de facto end of Turkish rule there. It is not revealed in the film, but the invasion sparks the ambition of Muhammad Ali who comes to found his own dynasty of effectively independent khedives in Egypt. In the film, Napoleon also presents a plan, that is never realized, to the Tsar at Tilsit for a joint invasion of the Ottoman Empire in order to harass the British Empire in Asia.

There is also an implicit rivalry with a long-dead figure in the film, and I am not referring to the more obvious one with Julius Caesar. Napoleon in the film is called "the greatest military leader in the history of the world." Military historians are far more likely to grant this accolade to Alexander the Great though. Napoleon’s interest in invading the Middle East and India can be seen in the light of a rivalry with the great Macedonian, as it matches the route of his conquests, which of course, commenced with Alexander’s entry into Anatolia.

Moreover, it is possible that his placing his ear on the head of the mummy is in order to gain news of his destiny, Napoleon is also aping Alexander, as the latter sought to bolster his own destiny in a pilgrimage to the Temple of Amon-Zeus in Siwa.

All in all, this is a complex film both literally and figuratively, and there are of course many other lines that could be investigated in it but which have been left unexplored by either Keskin or myself. I would, however, like to finish here by highly recommending it.

Review: 4½ out of 5