Napoléon

NAPOLEON

A

Screenplay

by

Stanley Kubrick

September 29, 1969

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,

...