Henri 4 (2010)
Directed by Jo Baier

Film Review

Jo Baier's account of the life of Henri IV, the first Bourbon king of France, is a characteristically flamboyant affair, an imposing two and half hour epic that revels in its spectacle of gore and lust but fails to make a satisfying piece of drama.  Adapted from two novels by the German writer Heinrich Mann (Die Jugend des Königs Henri IV and Die Vollendung des Königs Henri IV), the film is historically nearer the truth than previous films based on that spiced up intrigue by Alexandre Dumas (including Patrice Chéreau's La Reine Margot) but its authenticity is somewhat undermined by its director's penchant for unbridled theatrical excess.

Henri 4 (a.k.a. Henri de Navarre) was originally commissioned by French, Austrian and German television as a TV mini-series but ended up getting a theatrical release as a feature in 2010.  This could account for the film's unwieldy structure and the difficulty is has in sustaining itself for its 150 minute runtime.  The film is essentially a long series of visually stunning set-pieces that are linked by the most threadbare attempts at exposition.  Watching the film is like watching a dying elephant in the throes of epilepsy - explosive spasms broken up by moments of tedious inactivity.  In between the bouts of artistic brilliance (which owe much to Gernot Roll's genius as a cinematographer) there are forays into toe-curling embarrassment, such as the grotesquely O.T.T. sequence in which Nostradamus screws up young Henri's childhood by telling him he will soon be a great leader - the scene might have worked in The Lord of the Rings but here it is patently ridiculous.  In what looks like a manic attempt to out-do the film's visual excesses, Henry Jackman and Hans Zimmer provided a swelling score that, to anyone with an ear for music, soon becomes unbearable.

Whatever Henri 4 may be it certainly isn't dull.  As it jerks manically between brilliance and awfulness it is guaranteed to leave a lasting impression, one of admiration tinged with disgust and disbelief.  Fortunately, the film is at least partly redeemed by its admirable troupe of actors.  One of only two French thesps in a predominantly German cast, Julien Boisselier is surprisingly effective as the titular king, a monarch who achieved greatness not by exercising his authority but by showing his compassion.  Boisselier's suitably understated lead performance is ably supported by the efforts of his German co-stars, although it is to be regretted that some of the actors look as if they have mistaken this for pantomime.  Hannelore Hoger's Catherine de Medici is excruciatingly over the top (totally undermining the character's credibility), and Ulrich Noethen's Charles IX deserves an award for the most unhinged disservice to the histrionic art in the last decade.  Apart from Henri, none of the characters is developed in any great detail and most are no more than vague, two-dimensional representations of historical figures.  Margot is particularly disappointing, a stock temptress that has none of the depth and compexity that we find in Chéreau's film.

With ridiculously inflated, over-sexed historical epics enjoying something of a boon at the moment, Henri 4 was well-timed to waylay the latest populist band wagon, but five years from now it will probably be all but forgotten.  Compared with this overblown bout of artistic frenzy, Chéreau's La Reine Margot is a model of restraint - and a far better treatment of the same subject.  If you are going to massacre history, Jo Baier shows how to do just that, in spades.

Film Synopsis

In 1563, France is a divided country, a land riven by religious hatred between the predominant Catholic population and increasingly belligerent Protestants.  In an attempt to put an end to this endless bloodshed and thereby retain control over the throne of France, the queen mother Catherine de Medici seeks a reconciliation between Catholics and Protestants by marrying her daughter Margot to Henri de Navarre, the Huguenots' spiritual leader.  The marriage ceremony has barely taken place before a bloody massacre is unleashed in Paris against the Huguenots.  Henri is held prisoner in the Louvre Palace but, four years later, he manages to escape.  Far from seeking revenge, Henri devotes his life to bringing an end to the religious schism that has brought shame and misery to what was once the most powerful country in Europe...