Juana de Arco

...but it still made interesting viewing. More biographies of Jeanne d'Arc exist than of any other person, and any attempt to portray her rather incredible life as France's greatest heroine and martyr on film can expect to encounter a similarly large number of second-guessers. This is precisely what happened when this picture came out. Reviewers went on at length about what the picture should have been about, and how Joan should have been portrayed (and by whom), leaving readers to wonder what they thought of the picture that HAD been made. This tendency to review the picture they wish had been made is a classic failing in many critics and this picture seemed to bring it out especially often.

The picture that Luc Besson made here deserves to be appreciated on its own merits. It is visually stunning, rousingly action-packed, and full of interesting period details. Yes, casting his supermodel wife Milla Jovovich in the lead was a risky choice, as her looks were hardly those of a typical medieval peasant. Yes, her performance did not resonate with the period the way one by a more classically trained actress might, although she was clearly never trying to be Ingrid Bergman. Still, Milla's hyperactive personality made her interesting and watchable as a historical person about whom so much has been written, who nonetheless existed so far back in the past that she lacks a strongly identifiable humanity. When somebody makes a better statue than a person, as Joan does from a contemporary viewpoint, odd casting choices can be forgiven if they work. Milla's twisty mannerisms, rolling eyes and whispery speech give the viewer constant occasions to ponder just how much of Joan's fanaticism came from genuine devotion to God and the church and how much was just an under-medicated personality disorder. This is actually one of the key scholarly issues surrounding Joan's life, and the picture brings it to the fore in its latter part as Joan herself tries to come to terms with her own claims of divine communication by means of a debate with Dustin Hoffman as her confessor-priest/conscience. That Besson takes no particular viewpoint here is an interesting choice, and one which actually helps the viewer to understand why Joan's story has compelled so many generations of historians.

The political aspects of Joan's life and legend were also dealt with in a nicely balanced fashion. Like many figures in times when political and national alliances changed with the seasons, Joan herself blew back and forth between being tremendously useful to the French throne at times and dangerously inconvenient at others. Fame is a powerful commodity at any time, and the picture carefully tracked the rise and fall of Joan's fortunes as she watched hers be manipulated, leveraged and ultimately put on trial.

I thought a lot of The Messenger and recommend it. Religious and historical scholars are advised to approach with caution.

Some movies would probably try to make a more divine spirit out of Joan but at least Besson examines all possibilities as regards to what inspired her. I think it was as honest a film you could make about Joan. Her quest for revenge combined with tremendous belief in the forces above that ignited her fire. Through Dustin Hoffman the viewer can question her motives and get her response. And what a performance! Milla was simply breathtaking as Joan.

There are many deviations from the accepted facts of Jeanne d'Arc's life as set out in her trial documentation and the writings of the time. This said, the central question of whether she was a saint, an inspired lunatic, wholly mentally ill, or simply a headstrong girl determined to grab her chances while she could is well asked. Many of the comments here assert that Besson makes it clear that the Maid was simply mentally ill, yet I read the film as deeply ambivalent about what was going on. Were her visions the hallucinations of a schizophrenic? Were they given by God? What's the difference? More questions are asked: Why does an omnipotent, omniscient, all-compassionate deity allow terrible things to happen? What is the meaning of kingship - to own or to serve? What is the difference between taking the lives of individuals and killing en masse? What's the difference between Christianity and the earthly institutions of that religion? Where does conviction end and fanaticism begin?

Jovavich's Jeanne is plagued by the difference between her idea of utter submission to God and the consequences of doing so; by doubt over the veracity of her visions; and by the gap between her ideals of the divine rights of kings and realpolitik. She is constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown - is this a manifestation of her mental illness, or of her "burning for God"? And where's the difference between the two?

The film raises more questions than it answers, and that's as it should be. It is something of a shame that Besson's film takes liberties with the facts as we understand them (though history is more often about our interpretation of events than the events themselves), but in terms of raising important questions on the nature of faith, it succeeds beyond measure.

My first Milla Jovovich movie was Ultraviolet, which has spawned more "worst movie ever" threads on IMDb than any other. Well, I wouldn't call it that bad, but still... it hardly gave me any faith in Milla's career as a dramatic performer.

So I popped this flick in the DVD player not expecting much. Sacrée merde! What a surprise. It seems, stripped of her futuristic-mutant-motorcycle-riding-vampire persona, she's really quite good. This film--probably the least glamorous of her entire repertoire--really gives her a chance to show her full dynamics. I can't say much more without giving away the plot, so I'll drop it for now.

Now on to the director Luc Besson. For the first half hour or so, he seems to suffer from "I wanna be Kenneth Branagh" syndrome (which is almost as painful as the avian flu). We get a dozen scenes of someone running down a corridor with the camera chasing behind. We get a dozen overhead-camera-twirly shots of someone lying on the ground. We get so many crane shots, you start thinking you're on a construction site. What's wrong with all this? I'll tell you. When the camera swings & sways too much it detracts from the actors' performances. Sure it adds visual drama, but so can a good fireworks scene (with just as much subtlety).

But suddenly, right around the halfway mark, the camera man simmers down. The whole tone of the film changes, becomes darker and more intense, relying on the power of the actors instead of the gimmicky camera-work. This works brilliantly, especially when Dustin Hoffman finally steps in.

This is the break that takes the movie in an entirely different (and possibly offensive) direction. It looks like some IMDb reviewers weren't too happy. I'm sure plenty of others got bored (because the swordfights stop). But me, I thought this change of mood was what made the movie. Suddenly it becomes a spooky, psychological thriller with a lot of great dialogue and a ton of good acting. THIS is the payoff.

My biggest gripe with the movie is that after seeing the 2nd half, I kept saying to myself "why the hell did Besson waste so much time getting here?" There were a few too many insignificant fluff scenes in the beginning (like the virginity test lol) that should have been replaced with more of the powerful Milla-Dustin dialogue toward the end.

I won't comment on historical accuracy, religious sacrilege, lack-of-realism or the fact that there were a few too many American accents for 15th century France. These flaws fall by the wayside if you're instead paying attention to the complex conflict brewing in Milla's character. This is really her movie, and a damn good one at that. Like my title implies, it's good enough to make me want to give Ultraviolet another try.

If it were not based on a true story, Luc Besson's `The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc' would be a tale filled with credibility gaps a mile wide. Since it is, however, a recounting of one of the world's most famous stories of military triumph and personal tragedy, the film actually generates the most interest when it concentrates on just those mind-boggling historical incredibilities.

Joan was, of course, the deeply devout, illiterate peasant girl who, spurred on by what she claimed were visions and voices sent directly by God - assuring her and France of a glorious victory over the advancing forces of the invading English army - managed to convince a desperate monarch to have her lead an army into the field, despite the fact that she brought with her no previous battle experience or even a rudimentary knowledge of the use of weapons in combat. We first see her as a young girl, strangely obsessed with religious piety, attending confession daily, running through the woods in a mad frenzy of ecstasy, encountering strange, inexplicable visions along the way, and, eventually, being driven to an intense hatred of the British by the rape and murder of her beloved older sister. We see the French royalty, so driven to desperation by the seemingly inexorable encroachment of the brutal British onto their native soil, that they lend credence to this child and give in to her demands, sending her out to lead the troops into what turns out to be some truly miraculous routs and victories. But glory is, more often than not, an ineffable entity that is lost as quickly as it is gained – and Joan learns tragically that, once her original goal of restoring the French monarch to his throne is achieved, her services are no longer of value, and she is allowed to be captured by the English, tried by the Catholic Church, and burned at the stake by the English government for the crime of witchcraft.

Given this fascinating and astonishing series of events, it would be difficult to make a film completely lacking in interest and insight. And, indeed, `The Messenger' is, perhaps, a better film than many of the harsh, almost bitter reviews by many critics would indicate. The first half of the film is a rather conventional telling of the tale. The warrior Joan often comes across as a shrill, petulant adolescent who somehow never convinces us that she is, indeed, someone all these military strategists would follow. But, about midway through the film, the screenwriters, Andrew Birkin and writer/director Besson, begin to apply some psychological depth to the character. After a particularly sanguine encounter with the English, in which hundreds of decapitated and limbless corpses strew the blood-soaked ground, Joan breaks down in despair over the horrifying inhumanity of the sight. From then on, her actions arise from a paradoxical conflict occurring within the very core of her being - between the righteousness of her pious cause, the pacifistic teachings of Christ and her single-minded devotion to her king and country. When she is finally captured and held in prison before and during her trial, she begins to question the veracity of her visions and to ponder whether the motivation for her cause really lay in divine inspiration or an obsession for personal glory and power. We're a long way from the astute psychological insights of Carl Dreyer's classic silent film version of the story, `The Passion of Jeanne d'Arc,' but `The Messenger' does take occasional time out from its action sequences to attempt to explore the question of whether Joan's miracles were the product of divine intervention or of mere happenstance and chance coupled with a determination and passion borne of insanity. Unfortunately, casting Dustin Hoffman as the Voice of Conscience who visits her in her cell and speaks for the side of reason as she descends more and more into seeming madness, renders much of this otherwise fascinating section faintly ludicrous. Every time his overly familiar face and voice arrive on the scene, we are immediately thrust out of the context of the story and find ourselves tempted to giggle out loud – hardly the tone one wants to establish as Joan of Arc marches grimly to the stake. Also, much of what he utters rings false in the context of the film's era; he sounds like he is mouthing psychobabble that would not arrive on the scene for at least another five hundred years.

In terms of dialogue, historical films have always it seems had to face an inevitable Hobson's Choice: should the writers employ language that reflects the reality of the time, thereby making the characters sound stilted or dated by today's standards, or should the authors resort to the use of more modern vernacular, enhancing the immediacy of the story, perhaps, but also possibly creating an uncomfortable and awkward sense of anachronism that weakens the verisimilitude of the film so painstakingly established by the elaborate set decoration and costume design of the film? The writers of `The Messenger' have, for the most part, taken the latter course, leading to mood-shattering declarations by the characters such as `she's nuts!' and `I'm gonna kill that f------ bitch' along with a barrage of four-letter word expletives with which no contemporary PG-13 or R-rated feature could ever do without.

Those with a queasiness when it comes to movie violence had best be forewarned: the battle scenes, though expertly shot and edited, register high on the bloodletting scale.

Of the performers, none matches in quality the exquisite photography, art direction or costume design that adorn the film. Milla Jovovich is, at best, adequate as Joan, rarely giving more than a surface interpretation of the complex psychological struggles occurring at the root of her personality. John Malkovich, as the would-be French king, for whose throne Joan lays her life on the line, has his moments, but the part is not really big enough in the context of the film to allow him to create a multifaceted performance. Faye Dunaway brings a cool, subtle intensity to her role as the future king's manipulative mother-in-law.

`The Messenger' emerges as an ultimately unsatisfying mixture of faults and virtues, yet, because it has such a fascinating story to tell, the film is far more interesting than the brutally hostile reviews that greeted the work's initial release would lead one to believe.