Sexual assault is always a difficult topic of discussion. The Last Duel attempts to tackle that weighty topic as it depicts events that happened in 1380s France. You’d think that society back then would have been a lot more different with regards to this. But it turns out that they were fairly progressive over 600 years ago — it’s just that modern society hasn’t made all that many strides since then. And that’s a disappointing, but sobering realisation after watching the film.
Based on true events, The Last Duel is the film adaptation of the book of the same name. It revolves around the clash between the knight Jean de Carrouges (Matt Damon), whose wife Marguerite de Carrouge (Jodie Comer) was raped by rival knight Jacques Le Gris (Adam Driver). This led to a trial by combat — a duel — between Carrouges and Le Gris, to determine who was right. It was the last officially recognised trial by combat in France. It tells the tale from three perspectives — Carrouges, Le Gris, and Marguerite — each one shedding more light on the events that have transpired.
The film begins with the friendship between Carrouges and Le Gris, fast friends who serve under Count Pierre d’Alençon (Ben Affleck) during a period of war and famine. Carrouges is a bit of a well-meaning lout, compared to the more eloquent Le Gris. But it’s this difference in character which leads Count Pierre to favour Le Gris, leading to a souring of relations between the former pals. It’s painted in a startlingly contemporary perspective, painting this situation as one of petty office politics in ye olde English (strangely, there are no French accents to be heard in this version of France) rather than an epic tale of brotherhood betrayed. You have the Dilbert-type boss in the form of Count Pierre, the politically savvy Le Gris, and the hardworking but disgruntled employee Carrouges who repeatedly voices out how slighted he feels by Count Pierre’s favouritsm and Le Gris’ disrespect. Anyone who’s been in a workplace can empathise with Carrouges fundamental of complaint, which boils down to “why has Le Gris been promoted over me when I did more work” (paraphrased, of course).
Affleck’s Count Pierre is the one who really steals the show before Marguerite enters the story. He takes to the role with great relish in his portrayal of what is basically a spoilt rich boy who plays favourites. You haven’t seen Affleck smile so much in any of his roles since his martial woes with Jennifer Garner and it’s a truly enjoyable performance that he delivers. It’s just a pity that story-wise, you don’t actually need Affleck’s character to take up such a big role. But when you’re the writer, producer, and you’re also the founder of the production company that made the film (Matt Damon is the other writer/producer company founder), such creative liberties can be taken.
But back to the film. Each Act of the film depicts the story from the perspective of one of the characters, first Carrouges, then Le Gris, and finally Marguerite. Of course, the men’s perspectives are depicted first, which again highlights the issue of sexism, although there is a narrative purpose for placing the woman’s perspective last. Marguerite’s account, when held up against the other two men’s (one of whom is her husband), spotlights just how little of a voice she has as a woman, from the little things like how Carrouges demeans her for wearing a dress that is too low-cut, to her obviously superior but unrecognised administrative skills in managing Carrouges’ household and estate. Not that different from today, when you think about it.
And then there’s the rape.
We have to watch it twice (first from Le Gris’ perspective, and then from Marguerite’s perspective), so fair warning. But it takes place with no other witness, so when Marguerite pursues legal action, it ultimately becomes a matter of “he said she said”. Le Gris, even in his private conversations, maintains that it wasn’t a rape, that Marguerite wanted it too. There are huge shades of #MeToo as the trial plays out in court. And this is what gets under your skin the most — the sheer callousness of virtually everyone’s response to the alleged rape.
You see, Marguerite gets pregnant after the rape (a subplot is that she has been trying to concieve, with no luck, prior to the event) but is repeatedly reminded that, according to 1380s doctors, pregnancy can only occur if the sex act brings her pleasure. It’s brought up several times that she commented on Le Gris’ attractiveness, which casts doubt on whether it was a rape or actually a consensual act. But what is most horrifying is how this isn’t a sex crime against Marguerite — it’s a property crime against Carrouges.
But this is progressive 1380s France, so lawyers are consulted. Carrouges and Le Gris talk to their counsel, pursue different legal avenues, and are provided with the kind of legal advice you’d expect from a law drama rather than a historical film. Like with office politics, it’s amazing to see how problematic the legal system could be back then and how little has changed since then. And so, faced with the very real possibility that justice might not exist, Carrouges decides to file for a trial by combat. Whoever wins the combat will be considered right in the eyes of god, and should Carrouges lose, it means that he dies and Marguerite will be burnt at the stake, because it also means that her accusations were false.
There’s something to be said for all the progressiveness and contemporary treatment of the situations when the story ultimately ends in a brawl of testosterone because of a property crime. There’s nothing gallant about it, as Carrouges isn’t so much fighting for her honour as he is battling for his pride. After all, if he dies, she dies. With so much history between Carrouges and Le Gris, the fight is really an expression of their unresolved tensions. It’s about ego. But even until the bitter end, Le Gris doesn’t think he has done anything wrong. His dying words are “I am innocent”.
It’s a story that could take place today. It’s one where justice doesn’t so much prevail as it is beaten out of the perpetrator. It’s a tale of the sheer delusions of men and the atrocities committed against women.
The Last Duel begins in a fairly entertaining way, before it descends into darker territory. Certainly, the juxtaposition of its premise (a trial by combat) against a crime of such magnitude (a rape) is what leads us to reconsider how little the world has changed. But what’s most horrifying is that though this may be the last trial by combat, it certainly won’t be the last time we hear of sexual assault by people in power.
The Last Duel
Director: Ridley Scott
Writers: Nicole Holofcener, Ben Affleck, and Matt Damon
Main cast: Matt Damon (Jean de Carrouges), Adam Driver (Jacques Le Gris), Jodie Comer (Marguerite de Carrouges), and Ben Affleck (Count Pierre d’Alençon)
Running Time: 2 hours 32 minutes
Genre: Historical drama
This article was written for and first published on RICE Media.
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I’m an independent scriptwriter who’s written for popular shows like Lion Mums, Crimewatch, Police & Thief, and Incredible Tales. I’m also a Transformers enthusiast and avid pop culture scholar. You can find me on social media as Optimarcus and on my site.
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