The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc (1999) – A Powerful and Unforgettable Tale of Courage and Faith
The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc (1999) – A Powerful and Unforgettable Tale of Courage and Faith
The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc, released in 1999 under the direction of Luc Besson, is a sweeping historical epic that breathes vivid life into one of history’s most enigmatic and enduring figures: Joan of Arc. With Milla Jovovich delivering a tour-de-force performance as the titular heroine, the film traces Joan’s extraordinary journey—from a humble peasant girl guided by divine visions to a fearless military leader who altered the course of the Hundred Years’ War, only to meet a tragic end as a martyr burned at the stake for heresy. Besson’s bold vision blends visceral action, psychological depth, and spiritual resonance, crafting a cinematic portrait that is as provocative as it is unforgettable. More than a mere biopic, The Messenger is a meditation on faith, power, and the cost of defying a world unprepared for such a revolutionary soul.
Set against the turbulent backdrop of 15th-century France, the film plunges viewers into a nation fractured by war and despair. The Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453), a protracted struggle between England and France over territorial and dynastic claims, had left the French countryside ravaged and its people demoralized. By 1429, when Joan’s story begins, English forces and their Burgundian allies controlled much of northern France, including the strategic city of Orléans. Into this chaos steps Joan, a teenage girl from the rural village of Domrémy, who claims to hear the voices of saints—St. Michael, St. Catherine, and St. Margaret—commanding her to expel the invaders and crown the Dauphin, Charles VII, as the rightful king. What begins as a personal calling soon escalates into a national crusade, as Joan, armed with little more than her faith and a borrowed sword, rallies a weary army and ignites a spark of hope in a kingdom on the brink.
The film opens with a haunting glimpse of Joan’s childhood, where a young Joan (played by Jane Valentine) witnesses the brutal destruction of her village by English soldiers—an event that scars her deeply and foreshadows her destiny. This early trauma, though dramatized, roots her mission in a visceral need to protect her people, blending historical fact with cinematic license. As she matures into the fierce, determined figure portrayed by Jovovich, Joan’s divine visions propel her to seek an audience with Charles VII (John Malkovich). Against all odds, she convinces the hesitant Dauphin and his skeptical court to grant her command of an army. Her first triumph comes at the Siege of Orléans in 1429, a pivotal victory that lifts the English blockade and turns the tide of the war. Clad in armor, her banner aloft, Joan emerges as a symbol of divine intervention—a “maid” sent by God to deliver France from its enemies.
Yet Joan’s meteoric rise is matched by an equally dramatic fall. Her success at Orléans and subsequent victories make her a folk hero, but they also sow seeds of envy and fear among the powerful. The French nobility, uneasy with her influence over the Dauphin, begin to distance themselves. The English, humiliated by a peasant girl’s defiance, brand her a witch. And the Catholic Church, threatened by her claims of direct communion with God—bypassing ecclesiastical authority—sees her as a heretic. Captured in 1430 by Burgundian forces and sold to the English, Joan faces a sham trial in Rouen, where her faith, gender, and unyielding spirit are weaponized against her. At just 19, she is condemned and burned alive on May 30, 1431, her execution a stark reminder of the price paid by those who challenge the status quo.
Milla Jovovich’s portrayal of Joan is the beating heart of The Messenger, a performance that balances raw intensity with fragile humanity. Known at the time for action roles like The Fifth Element (also directed by Besson), Jovovich transforms into a figure both larger-than-life and achingly real. Her Joan is a whirlwind of contradictions: a warrior who weeps, a visionary plagued by doubt, a saint who wrestles with her own sanity. In battle, she’s a force of nature, her eyes blazing with conviction as she charges into the fray. In quieter moments, she’s a young woman overwhelmed by the weight of her calling, her face etched with vulnerability as she questions the voices that guide her. Jovovich’s physicality—leaping onto horses, swinging swords—grounds Joan’s heroism, while her emotional depth reveals the toll of her mission. It’s a career-defining role that captures the essence of Joan’s legend: a girl who became a myth, yet never lost her humanity.
Besson enhances this central performance with a stellar supporting cast. John Malkovich brings a wry, conflicted energy to Charles VII, a weak-willed king torn between awe and suspicion of Joan’s power. His subtle shift from doubt to dependence mirrors France’s own ambivalence toward its savior. Dustin Hoffman, as “The Conscience”—a spectral figure who appears to Joan during her imprisonment—delivers a chilling, philosophical counterpoint, probing her faith with questions that echo her own fears: Was she truly chosen by God, or deceived by her own mind? Faye Dunaway, as Yolande of Aragon, Charles’ shrewd mother-in-law, adds a layer of political intrigue, while Tchéky Karyo’s grizzled Dunois, a seasoned commander, lends gravitas to Joan’s military exploits. Together, they frame Joan as both a catalyst and a pawn in a larger game, amplifying the film’s exploration of power dynamics.
Visually, The Messenger is a feast for the senses. Cinematographer Thierry Arbogast paints a medieval world of stark contrasts—lush green fields scarred by war, golden cathedrals looming over muddy battlegrounds. The production design, from Joan’s rustic village to the opulent courts of Chinon, immerses viewers in the era’s gritty splendor. The battle scenes are visceral and chaotic, with clashing steel, thundering hooves, and sprays of blood that evoke the brutality of the Hundred Years’ War. The Siege of Orléans sequence, in particular, is a standout—arrows rain down, cannons roar, and Joan’s white banner cuts through the smoke like a beacon. Besson’s signature style—dynamic camera work, bold colors—infuses these moments with a modern energy, making history feel immediate and alive. Eric Serra’s score, blending orchestral swells with eerie choral chants, heightens the film’s emotional stakes, from triumphant marches to the haunting strains of Joan’s final moments.
Beyond its spectacle, The Messenger grapples with profound themes. It’s a film about faith—not just Joan’s belief in God, but the faith others place in her, and the doubt that gnaws at them all. Besson doesn’t shy away from the ambiguity of Joan’s visions, presenting them as both divine and potentially delusional, a tension that mirrors historical debates about her sanity. The film also probes the intersection of gender and power, spotlighting Joan’s defiance of a patriarchal world. In an era when women were expected to be silent and submissive, Joan dons armor, leads men into battle, and speaks with the authority of heaven—a radical act that both inspires and terrifies. Her trial, depicted with excruciating detail, lays bare the misogyny and fear she provoked, as churchmen twist her words and mock her “unwomanly” behavior. Yet even in defeat, Joan’s resolve shines through, her death a tragic but defiant testament to her convictions.
The Messenger isn’t without flaws. Some critics have faulted its pacing—its 158-minute runtime lingers on introspective scenes that occasionally slow the momentum—or its historical liberties, like the exaggerated role of Joan’s childhood trauma. Others find Hoffman’s late-act appearance jarring, a surreal detour in an otherwise grounded narrative. But these quibbles fade against the film’s emotional power and its unflinching portrayal of Joan’s complexity. It’s not a sanitized hagiography; it’s a raw, human story that honors her courage while wrestling with her contradictions.
In the end, The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc is a visually stunning, emotionally resonant triumph that immortalizes one of history’s most extraordinary women. It’s a film that lingers long after the credits roll, its images of Joan—sword raised, flames rising—etched into memory. For fans of historical drama, it’s a must-see; for anyone moved by tales of resilience, it’s a revelation. Joan of Arc’s legacy—as warrior, saint, and symbol—endures through centuries, and Besson’s masterpiece ensures her fire burns bright for generations to come.
#TheMessenger #JoanOfArc #HistoricalDrama #MillaJovovich #LucBesson #FaithAndCourage #MedievalHistory #FrenchHistory #EpicFilm #WomenInHistory #WarAndReligion #HistoricalFigures #SaintJoan
