Waterloo

With the same characteristic penchant for extravagance and dramatic flair as his previous Napoleonic epic War and Peace - which earned a NYFCC Award in 1968 for Best Foreign Language Film - Sergei Bondarchuk turned his attention from the battlefields of Borodino, featured in Leo Tolstoy’s masterpiece, and focused instead on the eventful 1815 battle of Waterloo, a clash that resulted in the ruination of one of the European continent’s most gifted strategists and forever altered the future of world politics. At the time of its release in 1968, War and Peace was perhaps one of the most expensive motion pictures ever made with its estimated budget of $100 million - an enormous budget that was made possible only through the total cooperation of the Soviet government.

With Waterloo (1970), Bondarchuk continued his preoccupation with Napoleon, following the Napoleonic Wars to its dramatic conclusion - in essence, the film is a pseudo-sequel to War and Peace. However, unlike with that film, the Soviet director’s access to financial and material resources, while substantial, were markedly restricted in comparison; although Bondarchuk had the support of the Red Army, who allocated the services of tens of thousands of Russian soldiers to be used in Waterloo’s lavish production, he had to contend with a significantly smaller budget of approximately $50 million. As with War and Peace, Bondarchuk was adamant in maintaining a high level of authenticity with Waterloo.

To ensure Waterloo’s historical accuracy, Bondarchuk employed Willoughby Grey, whose grandfather fought with Duke Wellington’s forces on the infamous battleground, as technical advisor. If, through awesome splendor and broad scope, Bondarchuk was attempting to revisit the success of his previous masterwork, then he was to be sorely disappointed; compounded by intense arguments with the film’s star Rod Steiger over its title (Steiger allegedly demanded that the picture be renamed Napoleon, presumably in an effort to clarify who its main attraction was) and mortally wounded by the excessive cuts imposed for its release in the US - which resulted in a confused and convoluted film - Waterloo was a major financial disaster at the box-office.

The battle at Waterloo was significant for several reasons - 1) It was fought and won within a period of ten hours; 2) The actual combat area was relatively small, spanning little more than 8 square kilometres; 3) Wellington’s victory ensured the complete obliteration of Napoleon’s second quest for empire and the end of the 25 year Napoleonic War; and 4) the engagement between the British coalition and French armies resulted in one of the bloodiest battles in modern military history. During the fighting of June 18, 1815, it is estimated that French casualties totaled about 40,000, while the British and Dutch losses numbered around 15,000, and the Prussian approximately 7,000.

"They will chain you, like Prometheus, to a rock, where the memory of your own greatness will gnaw you."

Besieged by the armies of four nations - Great Britain, Prussia, Russia and Austria - and committed to defending itself on four fronts, France is doomed to subjugation; threatened with the complete destruction of his beloved country should he refuse to vacate the throne, Napoleon Bonaparte (Rod Steiger) reluctantly abdicates on April 18, 1814. Embittered at the loss of the territories he has gained through his military successes, the self-proclaimed Emperor of France is forced into “honourable� exile to the desolate, windswept island fortress of Elba with a personal entourage of 1,000 men, where - afflicted with stomach cancer - he seems destined to die.

Louis XVIII (Orson Welles in a role that is little more than a cameo) is appointed King of France by the coalition powers, but his position as that nation’s ruler is short-lived as Napoleon - in a characteristically bold move - escapes from his solitary confinement on Elba and returns to the Southern French coast with 1,000 soldiers. Alarmed at the former Emperor’s presence and realising that he has no martial or political support, Louis XVIII hurriedly leaves Paris and seeks safety in Brussels. Napoleon triumphantly marches into the capital on March 20, 1815. In reaction to his meteoric reemergence to power, the Congress of Vienna - Austria, Great Britain, Prussia, and Russia - agree to each contribute 150,000 troops to assemble an invasion force in order to repel "the thief of Europe."

The coalition armies assemble in Belgium near the French border, while in Paris, Napoleon learns of his enemies intentions and formulates a plan to attack and crush them before their forces can consolidate. With an aggressive recruitment drive, the French leader mobilises within two months an army of 360,000 trained, if poorly armed, soldiers - deploying half his forces within France to protect her from sudden attack, and grouping the remainder into assault units. On June 14, 1815, moving with the utmost speed, Napoleon reaches the Franco-Belgian border with 124,000 front-line troops, and another 56,000 men placed in secondary or supporting positions.

Napoleon’s strategy is typically audacious and, if he acts swiftly, will surely succeed. Aware of the coalition’s intentions to mass their forces on the border and coordinate their offensive together, his plan consists of making two decisive strikes against the Prussian battalions, led by field marshal Gebhard Leberecht von Blucher (Sergo Zaqariadze), and the British armies, commanded by Arthur Wellesley, the First Duke of Wellington (Christopher Plummer), in an attempt to split them. On June 15, 1815, through a series of concentrated attacks against the Prussian brigades stationed at the town of Gilly and Fleurus, Napoleon accomplishes his goal to drive a wedge in between the Prussian and British armies; Blucher, his forces routed, retreats to Wavre.

This action leads to the fateful battle at Waterloo. On June 17, 1815, Wellington withdraws his forces eight miles to the west of Wavre, in a small hamlet, Mont Sainte-Jean, on a ridge just south of the village of Waterloo; in a prophetic twist, the position had been mapped out on the Duke’s instruction in 1814. Defensively, the area is an ideal location - the ridge has an ‘Ereverse slope’ behind which his troops can shelter, protected from enemy fire, while at the rear of the position is a densely wooded forest which his forces can shelter if the army is forced to retreat. Accepting Blucher’s promise that the Prussians will lend support to his own soldiers, Wellington decides to wait for Napoleon’s brigades to arrive.

Waterloo is presented in its original screen aspect ratio of 2.35:1 and is anamorphic.

To coin a cliche, first impressions are the most important and any expectations that one may have about Waterloo are instantly soured at the film’s immediate opening with the appearance of a prominent vertical black scratch within the centre of the screen image. Although somewhat interrupted with a black transition screen as the Columbia logo dissolves into the film’s prologue, this obtrusive film artefact is present on screen for perhaps 10 seconds, and serves as an ominous precursor for what is to follow. Unusually for Columbia Tri-Star, whose name alone is associated with excellence, this transfer is problematic in virtually every aspect of its presentation.

Black levels are disappointingly low, to say the least; more often than not, they tend to be rather opaque. Detail, too, is variable to a bewildering degree. There are moments where definition is of a sharpness that can even be considered crisp; however, in several instances - particularly in Chapter 9 as Napoleon’s armies advance to Brussels in a torrential downpour - definition is soft and there is a great loss in detail. Facial delineation, while discernible, is of lower resolution when compared to the numerous military costumes - and, more specifically, their ornate decoration - which adorn the film. For a picture that is 30 years old, shadow detail is perfectly acceptable, but not spectacular.

There are a couple of occasions where fluctuations in brightness, contrast and colour are quite noticeable - at 22:42 when Napoleon is preparing to address a public rally after his triumphant return to Paris, and 25:14 as he appears before the adoring crowds on the Parisian building’s balcony - and, with their rhythmic palpitation, succeed in the distraction from the on-screen proceedings. Barring a brief moment in Chapter 5 involving the iridescent blue backdrop of a building as Louie XVIII leaves Paris, saturation is excellent - particularly with the military uniforms - and exhibits no evident bleeding. Yet, flesh tones tend to be mostly sombre, but this is more likely a reflection of Bondarchuk’s artistic style, rather than a fault with the transfer itself.

There is evidence of compression artefects - most notably, at the beginning of Chapter 13, featuring nocturnal scenes before the film’s battle - but their impact on the viewing experience is negligible. Film-to-video artefacts, consisting of minor aliasing, are present, but do not warrant much concern, and there is no evidence of moiré. However, the picture is host to an abundance of film artefacts - flecks, dots, hair, and scratches - and some instances of print damage; if one can forgive the major scratch in the film’s opening frame, then these anomalies, although noticeable, do not seem too intrusive. To be expected from a picture of this vintage, minor grain is evident - however, it cannot be considered overtly distracting.

It would seem that Waterloo is not a single sided, dual layered disc as mentioned on the DVD cover slick, but is instead a single sided, single layered disc. There are two pieces of evidence to support this conclusion - 1) The DVD does not possess the distinctive gold sheen that accompanies a dual layered title; and 2) From about 40 minutes into the film, Waterloo gains momentum with its depiction of troop movements and subversive politics - which cumulate in the titular battle itself - but, despite the fact that there is little static activity, no disruption or pause, indicating a layer transition, was detected.

There is but one audio selection available: the English Dolby Digital 4.0 soundtrack.

Although there are a few instances where redirected bass signal to the subwoofer was noticed, there is, of course, no dedicated LFE channel - which is most unfortunate, as this is one film that would have benefited strongly from its presence. Instead, the lack of such a channel seems to accentuate the shortcomings of the audio presentation; this is not to suggest that the mix is completely worthless - but, with care and restoration, it could have been much more dynamic. While the bulk of the audio activity is gravitated towards the front soundstage, the rear surrounds provide support with ambient sound when needed - for instance, when Napoleon’s generals enter his Fontainbleau residence in Chapter 2, the clatter of their boots on the marble floors leave a lingering echo about the room.

However, the rear soundstage nestles into its own element from Chapter 18, when the battle for Waterloo commences with the encroaching scream of an errant cannon ball. From this moment onwards, there is a great deal of rear separation - it should be noted that there is a heavy amount of forward separation throughout the film’s duration - but, far too often, the frequency range betrays the audio's limitations and has a tendency to exhibit surreal qualities; cannon exchanges sound disproportionately louder than some of the resultant explosions, and the volleys of musket fire are quite ineffectual.

Dialogue is always clear and comprehensible, although there more than a few notable occasions where lip sync problems are evident - but this cannot be attributed to the ADR production on the transfer itself and can, instead, be linked to the poor English dub post-production work on the original film (it should be remembered that Waterloo, first and foremost, was a Soviet film with a largely European cast). Of particular mention is the majestic film score, courtesy of Nino Roto (The Godfather). While it is true that his orchestration is not terribly prominent, when it is featured, it sounds quite resplendent - however, it cannot be considered demonstration material.

The additional material featured here is mediocre and is of limited interest; indeed, they seem to be nothing more a token gesture.

Talent Profiles: Brief and offering rather cursory information, this section consists of a total of 9 pages containing biographical and selected filmographical highlights on Waterloo’s principal actors, Rod Steiger, Christopher Plummer, and Orson Welles.

Theatrical Trailer: Presented in Dolby Digital 2.0 with an non-anamorphic screen aspect ratio of 2.35:1, this feature is an oddity in that, for some reason, it is not time-coded and, therefore, a correct estimate on its running length cannot be given; nonetheless, it is somewhere around 3 minutes and 30 seconds. Exhibiting grain and an avalanche of film artefacts, the trailer is of negligible value.

Filmed on location in the Ukraine and Italy, with interiors shot at Cinecitta Studios in Rome, Bondarchuk’s Waterloo admirably captures the broad sweep of the infamous battle, but - due to the mutilation inflicted upon it by its distributors in the US - the film soon descends into a one-dimensional account of two superb military strategists, diametrically opposed in their ideologies, but unified in their admiration for each other’s abilities. The original director’s cut ran for approximately four hours, most of which, it seems, pertained to the establishment of Napoleon and Wellington’s character, and the intricate strategic manoeuvres leading up to the final conflict at Waterloo.

However, without that extra material, Steiger and Plummer - both are actors of the highest calibre - seem to appear as nothing more than cardboard caricatures. Steiger’s performance as Napoleon is mesmerising, but erratic; Plummer, who bears more than a passing similarity to the legendary Duke himself, is affectionately wooden. What could have been an intriguing insight into the inner sanctum of the military mind is lost amid the overwhelming spectacle of Bondarchuk’s masterful, if somewhat flawed, vision - for once the film focuses on Waterloo, the characters become little more than pawns to be moved at the director’s whim.

Make no mistake: Waterloo is an epic motion picture experience that is the proverbial “wet dream� for anyone with even a remote interest in military - or for that matter, Napoleonic - history. Although the transfer is less than acceptable, considering that it is produced by the formidable Columbia Tri-Star stable, Waterloo is still to be highly recommended as a rental through the virtue of its majestic battle scenes alone.... if nothing else.