1792 was a turbulent time in Paris. As the French Revolution raged outside the dilapidated walls of the Tour du Temple, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette faced an uncertain future behind those walls. Once the most powerful monarchs in Europe, ruling over the opulent court at Versailles, they had been deposed and cast into an isolated prison to await their fate.
Director Gianluca Jodice’s historical drama “The Flood” shines a light on this difficult period in the lives of the hapless royal couple. Focusing on their imprisonment in the dreary Tower ahead of their executions, the film is based on accounts from the journal of Louis’ valet, Jean-Baptiste Cléry, played in the film by Fabrizio Rongione.
Gone are the lavish parties and designer dresses of Versailles. In their dank cell in the Tower, Louis (Guillaume Canet) and Marie Antoinette (Mélanie Laurent) struggle to adjust to their new circumstances with dignity. Stripped of wealth and status, they must now confront intimate issues within their loveless marriage while crowds beyond the walls call for their heads.
Jodice brings nuance to these infamous historical figures through complex lead performances and thoughtful examination of their humanity. While not forgetting the injustices of the ancien régime, he aims to shed light on the personal toll of such a precipitous downfall.
Over the film’s three chapters, “The Gods,” “The Men,” and “The Dead,” we watch the monarchs’ pitiful transformation and ultimately learn that even the most vilified public figures possess vulnerability beneath iconic facades.
Peering Behind Iconic Masks
Like the splendid costumes they once wore, the characters in The Flood conceal complex truths beneath iconic facades. Director Jodice deserves praise for peeling back these layers to reveal the humanity within.
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Guillaume Canet portrays Louis XVI as more than the bumbling buffoon of history books. Though out of his depth ruling France, the King demonstrates hidden resilience. Faced with his unjust death, Canet captures Louis’ quiet dignity with understated grace.
Mélanie Laurent infuses Marie Antoinette with compassion beyond her reputation as a frivolous socialite. The act may have collapsed, but Laurent ensures we see the intelligent woman supporting her husband despite his flaws. Her anguished cries convey the tragedy of spoiled royalty stripped of all.
In contrast to these sympathetic leads, the revolutionaries appear as one-sided villains. Only Hugo Dillon’s guard transitions intriguingly from a civilized jailer to something more sinister.
More moving are the peripheral performances bringing nuance to lesser-known figures. Aurore Brutin imbues Louis’ sister with tenderness as she comforts her nephews. As the devoted Cléry, Fabrizio Rongione underscores the family’s isolation with his own painful expressions.
By developing even background characters, Jodice reminds us that behind every public persona lies interiority deserving exploration. The Flood succeeds in glimpsing real people through the cracks in their ceremonial masks.
The Art of Decline
Jodice populates his bleak world with superb production craftsmanship that elevates the viewing experience. Zera’s exquisitely detailed sets are a highlight, transporting audiences to the decadent opulence of Versailles before witnessing the royal family’s cramped quarters in the dingy Tower.
Ciprì’s cinematography beautifully underscores the contrast, opening with expansive shots of the royal court in all its glory. As revolution closes in, his desaturated lensing evokes the monarchs’ grim isolation. Sweeping perspectives emphasize their dwindling space against cavernous rooms grown suddenly empty.
Perhaps most impressive is Parrini’s costuming, which tells a visual story in its own right. From the outset, glittering fabrics and ostentatious wigs flaunt the royals’ status. But as privileges disappear, outfits mirror their deterioration into dingy rags. By the film’s end, flourishing silks hang in sad shreds, baring the profound humanity beneath titles that mattered little without power or possessions.
Every sumptuous detail enhances The Flood’s dreary atmosphere. But the production design serves a higher purpose, subtlely conveying the psyche of its declining characters through settings stripped bare like the trappings of their former lives. In rendering the pomp of Versailles with equal skill alongside squalor, Jodice elegantly illustrates how completely the mighty can fall.
The Fall from Grace
The Flood follows Louis and Marie’s decline across three defining periods. In “The Gods,” they’re still royalty, indulged as figureheads though powerless. Public lectures on uncouth ideals like equality bemuse Louis.
Soon comforts disappear. “The Men” strips privileges as friends are sent away. Isolation exacerbates troubles in their loveless marriage. Distress mounts as the future darkens, ending in the ominous “The Dead.”.
Key is observing the pair’s creeping dehumanization. Grandeur meant survival, so status loss wounds deeply. Roles defined existence, yet these dissolve. Stripped bare, their interior conflicts surface in a claustrophobic bubble cut off from revolution’s currents.
Subtle themes emerge through ordinary scenes rather than dramatic monologues. Political neutrality grants sympathy over accusation. Complex characters evolve beyond caricatures as learned manners fade under duress. Dignity remains even for losers in power games, reminding humanity outlives earthly success.
Jodice scrutinizes psychology beneath iconic facades. No destinies are set in stone—the mighty aren’t invincible, and powerlessness needn’t crush spirit. Empathy arises from shared fragility; even adversaries want love, purpose, and security. By humanizing allegedly villainous figures, The Flood starts a conversation worth continuing.
Peeling Back the Pages of History
Jodice promises fidelity to the personal journal of valet Jean-Baptiste Cléry. Yet stripping context beyond the tower’s walls, revolutionary tidewaters seem distantly fictional.
Focusing tightly within, humanity emerges in cellmates’ declining world. But history enveloped Versailles in greater turmoil. By excluding the masses’ perspectives, grievances minimize the monarchy’s malaise risk of excusing its sins of omission.
Compassion for our protagonists’ plight seems the aim over full context. Still, questioning iconic figures’ conduct need not undermine their contained humanity. Their ordeals likely felt earth-shatteringly real, regardless of history’s final verdict. Perhaps through certain victims, we can understand others’ frustrations and our shared fallibility.
Peeling Back the Layers
Jodice’s direction beautifully sets the stage for the story. Sweeping shots showcase Zera’s exquisite production against Ciprì’s desaturated palette, pulling viewers into the world of Versailles in all its grandeur.
This aesthetic slowly fades, though, replaced by looser techniques as the film progresses. A shame, as those stylized beginnings hinted at nuanced perspectives to unfold.
Similarly, Jodice and Gravino’s screenplay strives to reveal complex souls within infamous figures. But philosophical musings rang hollow where relatable emotions might have resonated more.
Their aim to rehumanize Louis and Marie merits praise, challenging preconceptions with hints of intelligence and care beneath royal masks. However, stilted dialogues sometimes undercut the fully imaginitive character arcs the premise promised.
Meaningful partnerships lift each other to new insights. With further collaboration, this team might transcend perceived shortcomings. For independently peeling back layers shrouding controversial subjects, their efforts remain commendable, suggesting a bright future if refining nuanced expression of the human condition.
Peering Beyond Popular Perceptions
With meticulous production craft and stirring lead roles, The Flood shines a light on its infamous protagonists. But fictional liberties and an uneven narrative prevent the film from full realization of its empathetic aims.
By humanizing Louis and Marie through examining their intimate suffering, however, Jodice challenges preconceived notions of their place in history. Proving even the mighty experience fragility, his compassionate lens reminds us not to define others by society’s judgments alone.
While falling short of a definitive reevaluation, The Flood merits praise for prompting thoughtful reconsideration of an incendiary period. With time, increasing perspective may refine initial interpretations presented here. For raising complex questions, this film serves as a starting point for ongoing discussion, not the final word.
Ultimately, popular media reflects evolving social conscience as much as it shapes it. If stimulating renewed scrutiny of permanently marked figures, Jodice’s work fulfills its purpose of bringing nuance and empathy to figures reduced to iconography.
The Review
The Flood
The Flood aimed to humanize infamous figures through intimate struggles buried beneath iconography. Jodice should be commended for attempting fresh insight into controversial subjects. However, a fluctuating narrative and limited historical context prevent the film from fully realizing its empathetic goals.
PROS
- Strong lead performances that humanize Louis and Marie Antoinette
- Thoughtful examination of personal impacts of dramatic downfall
- Raises complex questions about innate humanity in historically maligned figures
- Ambitious intention to re-evaluate infamous individuals
CONS
- Uneven narrative detracts from fully realizing empathetic goals.
- Overreliance on fictional liberties undermines depiction as reevaluation.
- Lacks sufficient historical context around the French Revolution
- Direction falters in second half after strong opening setup
- Fails to profoundly reshape understanding due to flaws
