joeepstein-32769

The best film critics capture the zeitgeist in what they write, so when Rex Reed completely obliterates this film in his review, he's expressing the soul of educated public opinion. And the public, contrary to what some may think, are overall more perceptive and astute now than ever in judging the quality of a theatrically released film, exactly because of the inundation of content in streaming platforms, which give abundant examples of how not to make a compelling film. Theatrical releases must meet higher standards, which is why the myriad ways in which this film fails are genuinely astounding. Choosing a 49-year-old brooding actor to play a 24-year-old enterprising artillery officer is alone one of the dumbest decisions ever made by a creator in any medium. But good acting still could have salvaged the role, and Joaquin Phoenix's acting in this picture is the opposite of good acting. His wheezing during the Battle of Toulon, creepy stare at Josephine, creepier stare at a mummy, porcine grunting, and comatose sleepwalking during the Battles of Austerlitz and Waterloo are not only completely off character in contrast to the man Napoleon Bonaparte really was, but they also actively damage the film's continuity and quality, of which there are hardly any, thanks to David Scarpa's utterly turgid, piece-of-trash script.

Take a nobody hillbilly director, a high-school camera, a fistful of Confederate dollars, and some zero-talent actresses, and you have this... thing. A cult of fools who make you laugh out loud if you haven't already shut the screen and turned it off. The amazingly terrible plot: a cult leader goes into the woods, selecting women on the basis of their willingness to prostitute themselves, be hoodwinked, and be too timid to point out his BO, and meanwhile, selecting men on the basis of their possession of cash or willingness to steal cash. It isn't a horror; it's a Q-side comedy. That's how awful it is.