Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges (1745-1799), is a long forgotten virtuosic musician due to his pigmentation (erased from the history by Napoleon I), so it is high time to introduce his less heralded, if, unavoidably unfulfilled legacy to the whole world. Hence, Stephen Williams’s biopic dutifully does the job, though it somehow reeks of unsavory chauvinism.

A peer of Mozart, the before-title introduction scene pits Joseph (Harrison) against Mozart (Prowen) in a cadenza duel and ends up with Joseph upstaging the latter, A fanciful artistic license to imply that if we live in a just world, Mozart would’ve been called “Black Bologne” and not the vice versa. It might be too big a stretch, but it is imperative to do impelled by the necessity of rectifying past wrongs and empowering the repressed and mistreated, which is also something very easy to error on the side of for any artistic creation.

One of the major issues is that the script aridly makes a meal of Joseph’s interpersonal relations with members of the opposite sex to ginger up the insipid plot. For anyone who is equipped with adequate common sense, it pans out without any tact and surprise. To make matters worse, every female character is conceived only to counterpoise Joseph’s remarkable virtues: Madame Guimard (Driver) is vengeful because she is offended for failing to have her way with him; Joseph falls into disfavor is because Marie Antoinette (Boynton, breaking a sweat to compose herself as royal breeding is not in her element) backpedals and pulls the rug out from under first; even Marie-Josephine (Weaving, dismally miscast in period fineries), with whom Joseph engages an extramarital affair, is too craven to start a life anew with a black man, and is partially responsible for a dastardly infanticide. Even Joseph’s mother Nanon (Adekoluejo) fits right to the “magic negro” trope, dignified by her suffering and judgmental of Joseph’s deviation from his root. When she gives his son a piece of her mind, you can bet it is the nuggets of subsisting in a vastly unjust world.

As a performer, Harrison’s arduous industry of practicing violin is nothing if not remarkable, but his effort is woefully cheapened by Joseph’s anodyne characterization, whose personality is zilch, and whose every emotional output is mechanically predictable. Considering that the French Revolution is in the horizon and Joseph’s participation in it is completely left untapped, the omission CHEVALIER leaves behind is outright regrettable. That said, the grace note is that now anyone can freely savor new-discovered Joseph’s works to dispel any grievance, a justification of the low-hanging fruit sort.

Inhabiting in a cinematic world suffused with a glut of high-intention-low-execution biopics, audience has already had a bellyful, CHEVALIER is an umpteenth case in point. It is not okay to see talent and money get squandered in such a fashion, however noble the initiative is. Hereby, I rest my case.

referential entries: Milos Forman’s AMADEUS (1984, 8.9/10); Beno?t Jacquot’s FAREWELL, MY QUEEN (2012, 6.4/10).