Waterloo (1970)

 

In preparation for the shortly to be released Napoleon film directed by Ridley Scott, I thought I’d re-watch the benchmark against which any movie involving the subject should be judged. While only covering a comparatively brief period in the renowned Bonaparte's busy life, the 1970 film Waterloo, despite its title, is mostly about him. It also remains one of the most epic films of all time; its count of 17,000 extras is still a record for any film. Yet it is the way that these assets are deployed that makes Waterloo memorable. One of those big Rod Steiger performances combined with battle sequences that feel as it drones had been deployed to film them is must-see material for anyone who thinks digital effects are essential to create spectacle. At the same time Waterloo is a film that does not forget the horror and cost of war. We may admire the artistry but this is a reminder that every era brings terrible conflict.

 

For a movie that will culminate in a grand battle, Waterloo begins with booted feet echoing in a grand marble building as his Generals bring Napoleon the news that he must abdicate. His large French empire, built over the past twenty years, is unravelling and he is cornered. At first he is defiant; he will not resign and in the first of several grandstanding scenes we’re aware of the potency of Rod Steiger the actor when Napoleon rages against the inevitable. Incidentally there is no attempt to evoke Frenchness per se- no cod accents or subtitled dialogue – instead a sense of nationhood is personified in Napoleon. He even says “I am France. And France is me.” Admittedly it feels a slightly odd place and slow manner to begin a film that for all it’s enormous qualities only runs to just over two hours.

We then ten cut ten months to the point where Napoleon has escaped his Elba exile and is back in France with a makeshift army which the corpulent King Louis  (a cameo from a larger-than-life Orson Welles) sends to stop. It takes an actor of Steiger’s power to convince that one man alone could turn an army to his side but that’s exactly what happens and we see the feverish support Bonaparte still has. As regular readers will know I’ve lately watched the BBC’s 1972 adaptation of War and Peace which doesn’t go as far in time as Waterloo but there is a similar sequence where news of an impending battle is relayed during a grand ball. 

It’s only here that the narrative homes in on Wellington, ostensibly the other key character in the film. In truth, he receives a lot less attention and for Christopher Plummer it’s a role that doesn’t really allow him anything like the leeway Steiger gets. Wellington is depicted as rather polite, reasonable, and considered. There’s a scene in which we see him bonding with ordinary soldiers yet he also drinks wine on the battlefield and maintains his refined air even in the middle of battle. Whereas Napoleon is seen charging about on a white horse, shouting at his subordinates and at one stage dangerously leading from the front, Wellington remains observant and does not engage in any combat.

Historians have confirmed this film largely follows the actual events of the Battle of Waterloo with smaller embellishments or omissions. Some topographic changes have been made to give the action a more cinematic feel as the real battlefield was apparently much flatter than the hilly domain we see here. The action is peerlessly re-created and shown to us by director Sergei Bondarchuk in a variety of different ways. Even for a film made fifty-three years ago, the types of shots and filming choices are distinctive. Bondarchuk shoots the action from every angle but the real coup de cinema comes when the British soldiers form their squares so that they are firing at the enemy from all sides. The cameras suddenly become airborne, swooping over the action so we see the layout of the whole areas as the French swarm in between the squares. Nowadays you’d do that with drone cameras and digital effects but back then the cameras would be on a plane presumably and yet the motion is seamless, the soldiers all real. There is such great sound too - when the cannons fire it feels thunderous and the explosions have real power. It must have been awesome for 1970s cinema goers to be served such spectacle.

As mentioned earlier the film does not glory in this carnage, quite the opposite. In fact, the final line sees Wellington observing in voiceover “The saddest thing apart from losing a battle is winning a battle” as the camera pans across piles of bodies, burning wreckage and debris. It is Rod Steiger’s film though, his presence burned into every scene in which he appears. Interestingly this includes sequences where Napoleon is unwell or tired showing the toll his achievements have taken. Steiger can be quiet or loud but gives a riveting performance. Some may say it goes over the top sometimes but I feel it conveys Napoleon’s passion, his ambition, and his skills.

Waterloo has no apparent agenda other than to play out events that were a significant historical moment. It neither sides with Napoleon nor Wellington, offers no retrospective excuse for the former’s reign of terror. This makes some of the battle scenes seem almost as if we are watching a news report and I think this is perhaps the best way to go with this kind of film. Adding our contemporary feelings about something terrible inevitably means we take it out of context but it is interesting that Napoleon seems to get an easier pass than most of history’s other conquerors, dictators, or terrible criminals. I’ll be curious to see how the imminent Ridley Scott film approaches him.

This film is now history itself and shows late Sixties / early Seventies cinema was often able to create timeless movies. Watching Waterloo in 2023 it still feels vital and urgent and remains one of the best historical epics ever made.