The annals of history become piercingly modern in The Last Duel

The titular duel never falters, but at times, its drawn-out buildup does

Filmmaking phenom Sir Ridley Scott returns yet again with another foray into the historical epic, the genre that first brought him Oscar gold at the turn of the century with Gladiator (2000). This time, he trades the Roman Colosseum for medieval France in the 14th century, when the country was embroiled in the Hundred Years’ War. Yet, Scott uses this setting to tell a more intimate tale that centres around three characters whose lives are drastically changed by one foul act of adultery … or is it rape?

The Last Duel follows three accounts that detail the events leading up the to alleged rape of Marguerite (Jodie Comer); an allegation that she bravely declares at great danger to her life, as she quickly learns that her “truth” means little against the will of men. The film first focuses on the events from the perspective of Jean de Carrouges (Matt Damon), Marguerite’s husband and a decorated war hero. 

Carrouges fights alongside Jacques Le Gris (Adam Driver), the alleged assailant, whose perspective then makes up the second chapter of the film. The final episode focuses on Marguerite’s truth, which the film hints at as the actual events. Yet, as the annals of history remind us, it is the victor who writes it. 

These three conflicting tales build up to the eponymous duel between Carrouges and Le Gris, who hope that the truth will be revealed from the bloodshed they inflict on each other. This results in not only their lives being risked, but Marguerite’s as well, as she will be burned at the stake if her husband falls. What emerges from this narrative is a biting showcase of the brutality of male vanity and how it diminishes the agency of women, resulting in a film that almost plays a masterful hand.

What emerges from this narrative is a biting showcase of the brutality of male vanity and how it diminishes the agency of women, resulting in a film that almost plays a masterful hand.

This triple narrative structure allows viewers to gain new insights and further ponder the truth behind this alleged crime. The narrative design creates great depth that underpins the film’s thematic ambitions, allowing them to be that much more potent. Certain moments are portrayed as chivalrous in earlier chapters, while later accounts depict them as anything but. It creates a dichotomy between truth and perception, resulting in an experience that always has its viewers on edge, forcing them to pay close attention to even the smallest of details. 

It is refreshing to see this type of narrative playfulness, as it allows each character to be richly detailed and well-rounded, and adds greater emotional weight to the climactic duel. However, this chronicle-like framework hurts the pacing of the film. The build-up to the final scene can at times feel like a slog, diluting the thematic underpinnings Scott and company work hard to cement during the 150-minute runtime. 

This feels like an experience that is in desperate need of editing, as every chapter overstays its welcome, thus causing the film’s most visceral and compelling moments to be watered down into something that looks awe inspiring, but rarely feels like it. This isn’t to say that the film never reaches the emotional highs it aims for, as many moments crush us with their emotional depth and technical mastery, but it’s a shame that many other scenes did not reach these heights.

The film’s overdrawn length also hinders the impact of the narrative structure itself, as the sheer duration between repeated events across characters makes it difficult to recall what the specific differences were. It also doesn’t help that the differences between the various accounts are very minute, further inhibiting the emotional depth the film seeks to convey.

Nonetheless, the technical wizardry of Scott’s medieval epic is on full display. The production design is simultaneously breathtaking in scale and richly detailed, allowing the setting to imbue a sense of vitality and brutishness that is wholly palpable. Grey skies loom heavy over the barren and desolate landscape of this medieval France, further cementing the cruel nature of the men who desecrate it with their bloody conquests. This grand production design works in tandem with Dariusz Wolski’s cinematography to create an experience that is meant for the theatre, as the emotional weight of the film is supported and further bolstered by the grand scale and immaculate detail present in each frame.

In addition to this lush production, the performances also serve as a high watermark for this feature. Matt Damon and Adam Driver are excellent as always, depicting men who are bound by their pride in service of an ego that needs to be fulfilled and guarded, no matter the consequences. 

Damon’s performance as a man whose pride is battered by a society that he served with blood is harrowing and sympathetic, even when he undermines his wife’s wishes and continually casts her aside as an object of his possession. Driver’s portrayal of Le Gris is also captivating, as he embodies those who benefit from this patriarchal system. With a poised posture, he brazenly contends that he did not rape Marguerite, but that she merely gave the “customary protest” to save her pride. Ben Affleck is also wickedly entertaining as a sly, sex-crazed, and arrogant nobleman who is a constant thorn in Carrouges’ side.

Yet, the star of this film is unabashedly Comer, whose stoicism and weary eyes convey the inner turmoil she is enduring, not only as a result of her assailant, but because of the men who were supposed to protect and uphold her experience. Comer’s portrayal exudes confidence as she proclaims to her husband that he is not risking his life for her, but for himself, to save his own pride. The only performance that falters in the film is Alex Lawther’s cartoonish portrayal of King Charles VI, which is distractingly bad for the few minutes of screen time he gets.

Overall, The Last Duel is a smart and piercing film that uses the annals of history to create a grand epic that is thoroughly modern. While the pacing of the film can limit the emotional impact it tries so hard to cement, it still finishes strong, delivering an experience that is thought provoking and — at times — masterful. Scott’s tale of male vanity and the dwindling state of female agency hits just as hard today as it would have then, powerfully conveying that it’s still a man’s world out there.

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