NAPOLEON

NAPOLEON 

A

Screenplay

by

Stanley Kubrick

FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM CORSICA - NIGHT

A well worn teddy-bear is cradled in the arms of Napoleon,

age 4, who dreamily sucks his thumb, listening to a

bedtime story told by his young mother, Letizia. His 5-

year old brother, Joseph, is already asleep, beside him.

NARRATOR

Napoleon was born at Ajaccio in

Corsica on August 15th, 1769. He

had not been a healthy baby and his

mother, Letizia, lavished him with

care and devotion. In middle age,

he would write about her from St.

Helena.

NAPOLEON (V.O.)

My mother has always loved me. She

would do anything for me.

MAIN TITLES

INT. DORMITORY BRIENNE - NIGHT

It is still dark on a freezing winter morning. The boys

are being awakened by a monk, loudly ringing a bell.

Candles are lit.

Napoleon, age 9, sun-tanned, leaps out of bed, rubbing his

arms and shivering. He tries to pour a pitcher of water,

discovering that it has frozen solid.

NAPOLEON

Who has been putting glass in my

pitcher? Look here, someone has

filled my pitcher with glass!

DUFOUR

Oh, my goodness! Someone has filled

Bonaparte's pitcher with glass.

Now, who on earth would do a thing

like that?

BREMOND

Oh, heavens, look someone has filled

my pitcher with glass too!

MONK

Silence! Silence! You should not

make fun of Monsieur Bonaparte, he

comes from a country where it is

never very cold. He has probably

never seen ice before.

DUFOUR

Never seen ice before? Oh, dear me

-- how very odd.

The boys snicker. Napoleon glares at them.

NARRATOR

At the age of 9, Napoleon entered

the Royal Military College at

Brienne, in France, under a royal

scholarship. For the next five and

a half years, he would devote

himself to preparation for his

military career. These were harsh

and cheerless years for the lonely,

impoverished provincial, among

affluent French noblemen's sons.

EXT. FARM BRIENNE - DAY

A lovely, late-summer afternoon. A small group of boys,

in their school uniforms, are impatiently gathered around

a rough table, covered with stacks of thick bread and jam

and tin mugs of milk. The farmer's wife supervises

things, collecting a sou from each boy.

Napoleon, 9, stands apart from the group, drinking his

milk, a book under his arm, lost in thought, gazing across

the cornfield at the school buildings, which are

beautifully colored by the late sunlight.

BREMOND

(overly cheerful)

Good afternoon, Bonaparte.

Napoleon ignores him.

BREMOND

What are you reading?

No reply. Dufour moves behind Napoleon.

BREMOND

(angling his head to

read the title)

Dear me, aren't we in an unfriendly

mood. Caesar's conquest of Gaul.

Aren't we terribly conscientious

about our studies? By the way, did

the supervisor give you permission

to take that book away from the

school grounds?

NAPOLEON

(quietly)

Fuck off, Bremond.

BREMOND

Oh, my goodness. What language!

Did you learn that from your mother,

Bonaparte?

Bremond is 4 years older and much bigger than Napoleon.

NAPOLEON

Fuck off!

At this moment, Dufour gives him a violent bump from

behind, spilling milk all over his uniform and splattering

the book.

DUFOUR

Oh, goodness, my dear Bonaparte -- I

am clumsy. Oh, and look at your

book!

Napoleon hurls the tin cup, with all his strength, at

Dufour, hitting him squarely on the forehead, with a

resonant pon-nnng! Napoleon leaps on Bremond, and the two

boys go down in a tangle of bread, jam and milk.

INT. MILITARY TAILOR - DAY

Napoleon, age 16, being fitted for his smart, 2nd

Lieutenant's uniform, studies himself in the full-length

mirror.

NARRATOR

At the age of 16, he graduated a

sub-lieutenant from the Royal

Military School in Paris, and was

posted to the crack regiment de la

Fere, at Valence.

EXT. FIRING RANGE - DAY

Artillery firing range. A hot summer morning. Napoleon

is part of a group of young officers loading and firing a

cannon.

NARRATOR

The practical professional training

that Napoleon would receive for the

next three years would give him a

working knowledge of all arms, and

expose him to the advanced military

ideas of du Teil, Bourcet and

Guibert.

EXT. DRILL FIELD - DAY

A calm, winter day, snow on the ground. Napoleon and

group go through the ordered drill of loading and firing a

musket. Their targets are painted figures of soldiers.

EXT. FIELD - DAY

The edge of a wood near Valence. A windy, spring day.

Napoleon and nine other young officers are gathered around

a leathery-looking Captain with steel spectacles, who is

instructing them in the art of map reading. The map,

about four feet wide, is flapping noisily in the heavy

gusts of wind, despite the four pairs of knees and hands

struggling to hold it flat against the ground.

INT. ROOM - NIGHT

Napoleon's room at Valence. It is filled with books,

mostly of military subjects, but well-stocked with poetry,

history and philosophy. He is reading by candlelight.

Outside we hear the sounds of revelry produced by less

conscientious officers.

NARRATOR

His moods at this time were complex

and varied.

NAPOLEON (V.O.)

Life is a burden for me. Nothing

gives me any pleasure; I find only

sadness in everything around me. It

is very difficult because the ways

of those with whom I live, and

probably always shall live, are as

different from mine as moonlight is

from sunlight.

INT. INN - NIGHT

Napoleon, 17, the youngest of a group of a dozen officers

who are seated around a table in the local inn, drinking

and singing songs.

EXT. FOREST - DAWN

It is a hazy, summer dawn. Napoleon, 17, and Caroline

Columbier, a lovely young girl of 15, walk together in a

forest. They occasionally stop to pick cherries. It is a

scene of pre-Raphaelite innocence and beauty -- the young

officer, smartly uniformed, the innocent girl in a flowing

white dress.

NARRATOR

He made friends with a family called

Columbier, and would later write of

his first flirtation with their

daughter, Caroline.

NAPOLEON (V.O.)

It will scarcely be considered

credible, perhaps, but our whole

business consisted in eating

cherries together.

EXT. LYON STREET - NIGHT

It is a witheringly cold winter night, in Lyon. People,

bundled up to the eyes, hurry along the almost deserted

street, past empty cafes which are still open.

Napoleon, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched

against the cold, passes a charming, young street-walker,

about his own age. He stops and looks at her,

uncertainly. A large snowflake lands on her nose which

makes him smile.

GIRL

Good evening, sir.

NAPOLEON

Good evening, Mademoiselle.

She is sweet.

GIRL

The weather is terrible, isn't it,

sir?

NAPOLEON

Yes, it is. It must be one of the

worst nights we have had this

winter.

GIRL

Yes, it must be.

Napoleon is at a loss for conversation.

NAPOLEON

You must be chilled to the bone,

standing out of doors like this.

GIRL

Yes, I am, sir.

NAPOLEON

Then what brings you out on such a

night?

GIRL

Well, one must do something to live,

you know -- and I have an elderly

mother who depends on me.

NAPOLEON

Oh, I see... That must be a great

burden.

GIRL

One must take life as it comes -- do

you live in Lyon, sir?

NAPOLEON

No, I'm only here on leave. My

regiment is at Valence.

GIRL

Are you staying with a friend, sir?

NAPOLEON

No... I have a... room... at the

Hotel de Perrin.

GIRL

Is it a nice warm room, sir?

NAPOLEON

Well, it must be a good deal warmer

than it is here on the street.

GIRL

Would you like to take me there, so

that we can get warm, sir?

NAPOLEON

Uh-hh... yes, of course -- if you

would like to go... there... but...

I have very little money.

GIRL

Do you have three francs, sir?

INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Napoleon's cheap hotel room is only slightly warmer than

the street. A candle flickers in the draft, and the

driving snow forms a lovely vignettes on the window panes.

Napoleon sits fully dressed, still wrapped in his coat,

scarf, gloves and hat, watching the girl hurriedly

undressing, shivering, teeth chattering, and diving into

the ice-cold bed.

GIRL

Br-rrr, these sheets are like ice.

NAPOLEON

Oh, I'm sorry about that.

The girl shivers and waits for him to follow her into bed.

He doesn't move.

NAPOLEON

What's your name?

GIRL

Lisette.

NAPOLEON

Only Lisette?

GIRL

Lisette La Croix.

NAPOLEON

That's a very nice name. Where are

you from?

GIRL

Please, sir, come into bed or I

shall die of a chill.

NAPOLEON

Oh, yes... of course.

He stands and blows out the candle.

TITLE: 1789 - REVOLUTION

EXT. TOWN SQUARE - DAY

It is jammed with 300 peasants and town workers. Many are

women, Monsieur Varlac, the revolutionary leader, stands

on a cart flanked by a small Revolutionary Committee. He

is muscular, bald man in his forties, wearing glasses.

Behind him, we see six severed heads, stuck on pikes.

VARLAC

Citizens, word has come from Paris

that the foul prison of the Bastille

has been captured.

(cheers)

That its Governor's head is up on a

pike.

(cheers)

All Paris is now in the hands of its

people.

(cheers)

Soon all France will be in the hands

of its people.

(cheers)

As the cheers die down, we hear the sounds of a solitary

drum and marching men. All eyes turn to the appearance of

a column of 25 French troops, led by Napoleon on a horse

and a single drummer, marching into the town square in a

column of threes.

Napoleon halts them just inside the square, and rides

forward, alone, into the huge crowd, who gives way for his

horse. He stops about 10 feet from Varlac's cart. The

man of the people stands, hands on hips, glaring at

Napoleon, who is now completely surrounded by the crowd.

Varlac and his committee converse in whispers.

VARLAC

Good day to our brothers-in-arms.

Have you come to join us?

NAPOLEON

I am looking for Monsieur George

Varlac who resides in the Rue de

Frelicot. Do you know him,

monsieur?

VARLAC

Very well, Citizen Lieutenant. You

have come to the right place, for I

am Citizen Varlac.

The crowd laughs in an ugly way.

NAPOLEON

Contrary to what you have been

telling these good people, Monsieur

Varlac, France is still in the hands

of its proper authorities, and they

have sent me here with a warrant for

your arrest. You are charged with

the murder of Monseigneur de Bouchy

and his son, and the burning of his

chateau.

Varlac whispers to several of the men standing around him.

One of them disagrees and forcefully shakes his head.

VARLAC

A revolution is not a polite

discussion in a parlor, Citizen

Lieutenant. One does not call it

murder to kill such vermin.

NAPOLEON

(speaking for the

crowd)

You may save your philosophy for the

magistrate, Monsieur Varlac. I am

only a simple officer in the army,

and to me what you have done is

called murder, and his always been

called murder by honest men.

VARLAC

Then do you propose to arrest all of

us, Citizen Lieutenant? For I was

not there alone.

NAPOLEON

No, Monsieur Varlac, my warrant is

only for you. Now, will you please

come down at once. You will be

taken back to Chalon for trial.

Varlac and his committee talk in agitated whispers.

VARLAC

Citizen Lieutenant, my advice is to

leave this town at once with your

men. We do not wish to do harm to

our brothers in uniform.

NAPOLEON

Monsieur Varlac, do not pretend to

speak for these good people whom you

have misled and inflamed with

violent speech. Now, I order you to

come down from the cart.

Another whispered conference.

VARLAC

I do not recognize the authority of

the King or any of his lackeys.

Laughter from the crowd.

VARLAC

I suggest that you leave with your

men while you can.

NAPOLEON

(drawing his pistol)

Monsieur Varlac, I will count slowly

to five, and if you have not begun

to get down from the cart by then, I

will carry out your execution, on

the spot.

Without giving Varlac time for further discussion, he

begins the count.

NAPOLEON

One... Two... Three...

Several of the committee move away from Varlac.

NAPOLEON

Four... This is your last chance,

Monsieur Varlac.

Varlac is frightened, but make an obscene gesture. The

crowd laughs nervously.

NAPOLEON

Five...

Napoleon rides up to the cart, carefully aims his

revolver and shoots Varlac in the head. His entourage

leaps to safety.

A gasp of astonishment from the stunned crowd, who stand

hypnotized.

NAPOLEON

A confessed murderer has just been

shot. Now, let all honest men

return to their homes.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

EXT. TUILERIES PALACE - DAY

A mob of several thousand have broken in and forced Louis

XVI, Marie-Antoinette and their children out onto a

balcony. Derisive cheers come from the multitude in the

courtyard below. A dozen or so men of the revolution have

crowded out on to the balcony, pressing the King and Queen

on all sides. No one seems to know what to do next.

Louis XVI gives a half-hearted wave to the crowd.

A bottle of champagne and some glasses are brought out.

Two glasses are courteously handed to the Royal couple.

The revolutionaries raise their glasses. The King and

the Queen drink with them. This creates an uproar of

approval from the crowd.

Then one of the men pulls off his dirty, red stocking cap

and offers it to the King. Louis XVI stands and looks at

it blankly. The revolutionary reaches over and puts it on

his head. The crowd cheers.

NAPOLEON

Incredible... Incredible... How

could he let that rabble into the

Palace? If he had ridden out among

them on a white horse, they would

all have gone home. If he lacked

the courage to do that, a whiff of

grapeshot -- and they would still be

running.

EXT. VIEW OF TOULON - DAY

The harbor filled with British ships.

NARRATOR

In the summer of 1793, Civil war

swept through France, and the

important naval base at Toulon fell

into the hands of a Royalist

insurrection, which quickly handed

over the port to a combined British

and Spanish fleet.

EXT. TOULON HQ AREA - DAY

NARRATOR

A French army of 10,000 was ordered

to retake the port, but its

commander, General Carteaux, a well-

known Parisian painter, had little

experience in war and the siege

quickly became a stalemate.

General Carteaux, a florid and moustached man in his late

thirties, painting from life, a group of French soldiers,

posed in a patriotic tableau, their eyes fixed on a

distant vision of glory.

In the background, are the tents and the military bustle

of Carteaux's headquarters, set upon a hill overlooking

the harbor of Toulon.

EXT. TOULON ROAD - DAY

A smart French honor guard and military band is assembled

outside General Carteaux's headquarters for the arrival of

Paul Barras, Deputy from the Committee of Public Safety.

Barras exits his carriage, accompanied by four foppish

aides and embraces General Carteaux.

Barras is a virile, handsome, bisexual man with elegant

manners of the Ancien Regime.

Napoleon is an onlooker with other officers.

NARRATOR

Paul Francois Nicolas Barras, former

Viscount, now Citizen Deputy from

the Committee of Public Safety, had

been sent from Paris to personally

report on the failure of the Siege.

INT. TOULON HQ TENT - DAY

A large table has been set up in the middle of the tent,

at which are seated Paul Barras, his four civilian aides

and 7 generals.

Set up at one end of the table is a large military map of

Toulon, pinned to a board.

Standing back from the table, and ranging along the walls

of the tent, are 30 junior officers, the staff and aides

of the generals seated.

Napoleon, now a captain of artillery, is with that group.

Barras slowly squares up a stack of reports before him and

speaks.

BARRAS

Citizen generals, I have read all

your reports and noted your

signatures. In substance, your

views are unanimous. The English

positions, defending Toulon, are too

strong to be taken by our present

force. The two unsuccessful attacks

to date would appear to support your

arguments.

He looks around the table.

BARRAS

Citizen generals, it is no secret

with what displeasure the Committee

of Safety looks upon any lack of

patriotism or revolutionary zeal.

On the other hand, it obviously does

not wish to indulge in a futile

waste of life. Before I send your

reports to Paris for the Committee's

review, together with my opinion, I

should like to give you a final

opportunity to present any new ideas

which you may have developed since

writing these reports.

There is troubled silence, but the generals stand pat.

CARTEAUX

Citizen Barras, since there does not

seem to have been any new thoughts

among us, may we know the opinion

which you, yourself, have formed?

BARRAS

General Carteaux, my report on the

conduct of this campaign will go in

writing to the committee.

An awkward silence.

NAPOLEON

Excuse me, Citizen Barras.

All eyes go to Napoleon.

BARRAS

Yes -- who spoke up?

NAPOLEON

I did, sir.

Napoleon speaks with the uncomfortable yet determined

manner that shy but willful people often exhibit.

BARRAS

Yes, Captain? Have you anything you

wish to say?

NAPOLEON

(clearing his throat)

Yes, with all due respect, I do

Citizen Barras.

BARRAS

Please...

NAPOLEON

May I come to the map?

ANIMATED MAP

Napoleon's plan for the capture of Toulon. Explaining

with narration how, rather than trying to capture the town

by storm, it is, instead, only necessary to capture Fort

Eguillette, a promontory of land from which French

batteries would command the inner and outer harbors of

the port, making them untenable to the English fleet, and

quickly leading to the fall of the city.

EXT. FORT EGUILLETTE - DAY

A cold December day. The French tricolor is being raised

atop the main battery position on Fort Eguillette, a flat

area atop a hill, fortified with planks of wood and

wickerwork.

French gunners have already swung a few pieces of

artillery to face the harbor and fire on the English

ships, now well within range.

Napoleon wheels around on a white horse, shouting orders

-- a bloody bandage wrapped around his thigh. The wounded

of both sides are being cared for.

EXT. TOULON FIELD - DAY

A fine, winter day in a field near the military barracks

of Toulon. Several hundred troops have been drawn up to

form an honor guard for the presentation of Napoleon's

commission as Brigadier General. Spectators stand under

the bare trees, and little boys watch from atop an

embankment.

Barras presents Napoleon with his commission and a

fraternal embrace. The band strikes up.

Napoleon's mother watches from a small wooden reviewing

stand which has been prepared for local dignitaries and

officers.

INT. PARIS OFFICE - DAY

Robespierre lies severely wounded on a conference table,

amid a disarray of papers, surrounded but ignored by his

captors who lounge about, seated on chairs, waiting to be

told what to do next.

NARRATOR

In July of 1794, the death of

Robespierre ended the Reign of

Terror and sent Paris headlong into

a lavish whirl of pleasure seeking

and sensuality, as if it were

necessary to shake off the nightmare

and make up for lost time.

INT. BARRAS SALON - NIGHT

A large, elegant salon in the house of Paul Barras, in

Paris. There are ten card tables set up in the room,

around which are gathered the elite of the new society;

politicians, immensely rich war contractors, high ranking

army officers and government officials.

Many of the women are extremely beautiful, and display

their breast completely uncovered, in the fashion of the

day.

Napoleon is one of the few guests not playing cards; he

has no money. Ill at ease, he drifts from table to table,

hands clasped behind his back.

Josephine de Beauharnais is the most beautiful of all the

women in the room. Napoleon settles at her table, rocking

slowly on his heels. She plays for very high stakes and

is losing gracefully. She glances up, distracted

momentarily by his rocking, but her look lasts no longer

than the flick of a card.

But Napoleon notices her annoyance and moves off to the

bar, at one end of the room. The bartender, a friendly

creep, stands alone.