Chevalier

     By Phoenix Clouden

A Previously Unknown Story Sometimes Told with Pizazz

Joseph Bologne was an extraordinarily accomplished man as a celebrated composer, violinist, and fencer. Stephen Williams’s new film detailing Bologne’s life focuses on his time and title as Chevalier de Saint-Georges under the rule of Queen Marie Antoinette. This particular story, while partially fictionalized, is a fascinating tale nonetheless. Kelvin Harrison Jr. (Luce, Cyrano) leads this film tremendously as he expertly brings out Bologne’s tenacity and verve. Both the film and the performance capitalize on the tragedy of a man who felt he belonged, but realizes over time, how much he never did. We see this arc demonstrated throughout the film, as we follow Bologne’s suffering through bullying in school, his rejection from fellow French composers, his rise as a prominent musician, and his devastating fall during the French Revolution of 1989.  

While the story being told here is entertaining, and has some incredible highlights (especially a beautifully heartfelt relationship with Bologne’s Senegalese mother, portrayed Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo), the film ultimately falls flat in its conclusion. The central conflict is centered around Bologne’s desire to be the conductor for the Paris Opera. As we approach the climax of the film, a contest is set between himself and the leading contender for the position. We witness Joseph staging his famed opera, Ernestine with the help of Marie-Josephine (Samara Weaving) as the lead. Wife of the head of the Queen’s guard, Lord Montalembert, played by Marton Csokas (The Equalizer, Loving), a man who despises the arts and forbids his wife to take part in it. Marie-Josephine decides to do the performance anyway, leading to her illicit affair between Bologne. While the passionate romance between the two was one of the film’s standout subplots, the eventual confrontation and its aftermath between Montalembert and Bologne has no bite to it. It’s a stale, overly polished quibble that sucks all the energy out of the film. Csokas has such a menacing presence that clashes beautifully with Harrison’s defiant posturing, so it’s a shame that there was little done to illustrate the level of contempt they had for each other. This unremarkable climax leads into a third act finish that is drained of all its fury and comes across as a corporatized scrub job. 

Despite its narrative issues, for the most part we are privy to an impressive story with more bombast, color, and joie de vivre than Harrison’s last French romance. Kris Bowers masterfully conducts the score for this film, which is a soaring work throughout but has a downright glorious final piece. The costuming is elegant, graceful, vividly depicts not just the French elites, but also the commoners and immigrants. The photography is floral, even in the darker-themed moments in the film. This adds a richness to each scene that highlights the contrasts of this world and how quickly one can be excommunicated from it. 

The main flaw of this film is that it never reaches the heights it’s aiming for. It doesn’t match the intensity that its scandalous affair presents. It doesn’t expand upon the richness of claiming the Paris Opera for one’s own, nor on the prestige it will carry. It doesn’t spend enough time on how France is changing and what its people wanted from their country, and the more shattering moments of the film are told instead of shown. Instead, we get an overly polished film that falls just shy of genuine impact. Despite its many qualities, it somewhat falters narratively due to the fact that it simply doesn’t take the extra step of putting us in Joseph’s place to understand his torment, his place in this world, or his ultimate erasure.








7.5