A story in three parts, The Last Duel is a subjective narration from all those involved in France’s final official duel. Ridley Scott seems to be going through the motions as he tells the same story from several different eyes, repetition bogging down what could have been a simpler history.  

Almost a year after its original scheduled release, The Last Duel puts an end to Ridley Scott’s four-year hiatus. Inspired by Eric Jager’s 2004 novel of the same name (minus the protracted subtitle), Scott’s latest medieval epic recalls France’s final officially recognised dual, God deciding the fate of the once-friendly French squires. A loose court case format, each perspective is displayed singularly and entirely, the film splitting itself into 3 chapters as the subjective narrators appeal to us, an unbiased jury trying to piece together the reality that lies in between. Certainly intriguing, it is clear what Scott is trying to do, but I am still a little foggy on his clarity.

We start with the duel. Paris, 1386. Sir Jean de Carrouges (Matt Damon) is fitted with armour, horse, and lance as he faces off against his ally-turned-enemy Jacques Le Gris (Adam Driver), the latter accused of sexually assaulting Jean’s wife, Marguerite (Jodie Comer). Chained to a wooden tower, dressed in black as her husband not only fights for his own life but also hers, Marguerite looks on sombrely as the two men dictate her fate.

Cut back to 1370 as we see the story from Jean’s eyes. The first of the three chapters, Jean is honourable, a charismatic man who constantly finds himself politically exiled due to his short temper, a luxury his position does not allow him. For the most part, Jean tells the whole story minus the actual assault, always painting himself as a loving husband and loyal knight, facts we know not to take for granted as each chapter subtitle proclaims, “The truth according to…”

Clear and concise, the first chapter builds up suspense for what is to come. How will things change? What was Jean lying about? Is Jacques as ‘evil’ as he is made out to be? Not much, very little, and yes. There isn’t some major absence in Jean’s story that needs extra input to be filled. As we once again cut back to 1370 in Jacques’s ‘truth’, we quickly find out that if anything is different, it really isn’t worth the hassle. The only truly notable addition is Jacques’s assault on Marguerite, which even his more ‘playful perspective’ can’t make him look like the hero (she says nothing but “no” nearly the entire scene).

As if repeating the past 45-minutes wasn’t enough, the final chapter begins when Marguerite first meets Jean, stretching out 20 minutes into another 45. The third and final chapter begins with the same white-text-on-black-background title screen, this time “The truth” lingers on screen as the rest of the words fade away.

Heroic husband or vain villain… Matt Damon & Jodie Comer. Photo: 20th Century Studios.

I understand. I truly do. Scott wants to clearly state, for the record, that Marguerite’s account, as the person who was assaulted, is true. Unfortunately, while she may appreciate your political awareness, I am not the biggest fan of waiting two thirds of a film to finally see what actually happened. As to be expected, Jean is a terrible husband and Jacques is vile man, defeating the purpose of both of their chapters as we are now presented with the undeniable reality.

The Last Duel opens as an atmospheric epic, an unsophisticated academic account from each character as if they are on the witness stand. That excitement quickly turns into tedium, but it isn’t only the final chapter that muddies the water. In Jacques’s chapter, we literally see him in the act, but in court he denies everything. If I am to judge the case, why is his own story contradictory to the one he chooses to tell?

That is what I can’t understand. If I am going to get to know the truth, why waste so much time and energy on characters that I eventually learn to hate equally; both men are the same person, simply different sides of a single coin. I don’t need to watch an entire film to know that men 600 years ago weren’t the most caring. What is most frustrating is that I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the world, the constant teetering between those who need to follow the antiquated etiquette and those with enough power to ignore it. But the longer it went on, the harder it became to love.