That incident, and the events leading up to it, are told from three perspectives, beginning with that of Jean, who imagines himself a gruff but fair man, a wronged but loyal servant of the king. Marguerite alleges that while she was alone in their castle, Jacques had forcibly entered, chased her upstairs and raped her. Jean and Jacques have fought together, and are friends, but while Jean is away from home, an incident occurs which will scandalise the kingdom, force a court case and provoke the last judicial duel to be sanctioned in France. Jean has leverage and the couple weds, but no children initially ensue, and meanwhile, there are wars to be fought, neighbours to be sued. Surly and battle-scarred, Jean is no catch, but his task is made easier by the fact that Marguerite’s father has fallen drastically out of favour with the king. When I say he’s the funniest thing about this film, I’m not being snide: he brings real satirical edge to a movie that might otherwise have gotten bogged down in a sense of its own importance.Īnd Affleck is not the only one afflicted with an unfortunate hairstyle: poor Matt Damon is forced to spend the entire production skulking beneath a mullet 80s Bono would have been proud of.
It was written by Damon and his old Boston buddy Ben Affleck, who appears sporting a disconcerting peroxide hairdo, playing a debauched Norman noble. He was here shooting outdoor scenes for the film when the first Covid shutdown struck: marooned with his family in a Dalkey mansion, he made like a local and won a desperate nation’s hearts.īut that was then, this is now, and a string of grumpy reviews from the Venice Film Festival have suggested that the medieval epic is an overworked blancmange, a gory costume drama that soon descends to silliness.Īll wide of the mark as it turns out, as are facile attempts to pick apart the screenplay’s feminist bona fides. One feels like awarding an extra star to Ridley Scott’s The Last Duel simply for having given us the lockdown gift of Matt Damon.
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