It's all about the music, man

There's a certain gravitas that's often extended to historical films and TV series. It's often because they're depictions of actual events (or some approximation thereof) but it's also often a factor of the presentation. Most of them have elaborate sets, elaborate costumes, and are about people that carry themselves with some degree of haughtiness. You're frequently given the impression that you're watching something about Very Important People. In this respect, Chevalier is no different from any that have come before it. Indeed, given that it's about Joseph Bologne, who was a figure of fascination to the French nobility in the years just before the revolution of 1789, it almost couldn't be more self-important. The fact that Bologne is presented as supremely confident in himself and his own abilities further lends itself that room-filling presence. But the problem with a lot of them is that in their eagerness to spend money on setting and clothing, they often fall short in what I regard as the most important aspect of film (or almost any creative endeavor), which is storytelling. Chevalier, again, is no different.

Imagine yourself watching the BBCs Masterpiece Theatre. You're in the middle of I, Claudius or Bleak House and firmly in the fantasy land of the first century CE or the depredations of the 1890s. The problem is that this program is funded by the BBC, so if you were expecting some of the genuine excesses of the reign of the third emperor of Rome or how people actually lived (and mostly died) in a Dickens novel, you're going to be disappointed. There simply isn't the creative license to show things that are that up close and personal. Even worse, since they're trying to depict an historical period that many people are quite familiar with, there will be some level of restraint on what they feel they can do in the course of telling an interesting story. This is the pitfall that Chevalier entered and was unable to climb out of. We're presented with the character of Joseph Bologne, supremely talented musician, composer, and fencer within the first few minutes of the film... and that character never changes. There's basically no development whatsoever. You can say that he comes down from his cocky high of being the toast of the town to being just another supporter of the Rights of Man and the Citizen and you'd be right. But it's still the same person, post-personal shame of losing out on his most desired position in society and post-romantic tragedy of losing the one real love of his life. He is still the same Joseph and he never stops being the same Joseph. The story doesn't really carry us anywhere past the Wikipedia entry that tells you everything you need to know. The extent of the character's development could be told by suggesting that he is forced to confront his status as a Black man in the midst of racist France. But he knew that already and so did we from the first moments of the film. So, where did we go here?

Kelvin Harrison, Jr. does well in the title role, but he's restrained by a character that doesn't really allow him to be much than what he already is. It's starkly different from his much smaller role as Christian in Cyrano, who had to fully experience some range of emotion within a scene and not just express it because that scene says so. It felt like most of the characters were kind of slotted into their roles without much of a nod to really becoming something within them. Lucy Boynton demonstrates some of the conflict of Marie Antoinette as a fellow stranger-in-a-strange-land with Joseph, who then has to conform to society's general disdain for him, despite her status as queen. But Martin Csokas, formerly Guy of Guisignan in Kingdom of Heaven, is the same straightforward "bad guy who does bad things to leading lady" as he did in that film. It's a horrible thing to be typecast, but I guess it's work. In fact, the only character who seemed like she had agency within her own sphere was Nanon, Joseph's mother, played wonderfully by Ronke Adekoluejo. Whenever she was on screen, she was needling her son about his acceptance of his role in the White (and rich) man's world, but also supporting him in being who he was and wanted to be. That character felt genuine because it sounds like a genuine mother; trying to coax her son to be something more, but encouraging him to be himself, as well. That's a bit of an internal conflict, which is what made her human, whereas everyone felt like they were just playing the role of a human.

For all of its dynamic setting that, too, falls victim to the circumstance of being more encyclopedia entry than story. The film is told in a clearly American style, without any of the longer quiet shots or moodier approaches common to French films and which it really might have benefited from. It's framed, of course, by the advent of one of the most turbulent revolutions in modern history, but it takes that highly complex and varied setting and reduces it to its most basic elements that carry little of the trauma or tragedy of the situation as a whole. Indeed, the most poignant moment of the film might have been the caption at the end that mentioned that Napoleon restored slavery in the French colonies and outlawed Joseph's music, which is why so little of it is heard today, despite its obvious quality. That, of course, has to be emphasized, since Joseph's music is heard throughout the film and really does well to carry it across some of its more obviously-delivered dramatic moments. The whole time, I felt like I wanted a film that lived up to the majesty of the score that was supporting it. I wanted more story, more emotion, more character, more something that would push this from Masterpiece Theatre to a film that I wanted to see in an actual theater... which, y'know, I did so I guess I was still just wanting something that lived up to the setting? Again, like Air, I'm not meaning to trash it. It's not a bad film. It's just not what serves its very proud and talented namesake. Oh, and the concept of Mozart being offended by someone challenging him on stage is kind of ridiculous. Mozart was an inveterate showoff and being confronted by someone just like him would have only made him that much more enthusiastic. You might have gotten a better story out of just the two of them dueling with violins.