'Chevalier' review: This composer biopic needs to loosen the strings further

For a man who nearly disappeared from history – forcefully erased both during his time and long after his death – Joseph Bologna, Chevalier de Saint-Georges still managed to leave quite a significant footprint. Good luck deciding which of his many accomplishments to recognize first: his prodigious skill as a swordsman, his exploits as colonel of the first all-black regiment in Europe, his incredible talent as a virtuoso violinist, the list goes on. In Stephen Williams' 'Knight', it's Bologna's impressive work as a composer – so talented he was often called the 'Black Mozart, an even funnier nickname considering the pair were contemporary – that forms the center of alternately loud music. and remains biopic.

Born in the French "overseas department" of Guadeloupe in 1745, life in Bologna was complicated from the start: he was born the son of a wealthy planter and a teenage slave who served him of a maid, and although his father recognized and even supported him, the young Bologna was always destined to be an underdog, no matter where he was. As Williams' film - only the director's second after his 1995 debut "Soul Survivor" and an enviable string of TV accomplishments - kicks off, our on-screen Joseph (played by the ever-electric Kelvin Harrison Jr.) is busy to beat back his underdog status with mad talent and a bold attitude to match.

He's also hilariously enough pushing away a shocked Mozart, as the confident young composer jumps onto the stage at a concert to perform alongside the revered composer. Needless to say, it doesn't happen like Mozart - who rolls his eyes at the color of Joseph's skin, then dismisses him as a "dark stranger" - expects, and Joseph's performance is so captivating and wild that he walks away with an even bigger head and a whole new fan pack. The film opens during a "prelude to the revolution", as a title card tells us, although it both nods to what is happening in France in the decades leading up to the Revolution French and to what is happening inside Joseph himself, a true genius born at decidedly the wrong time in history.

While "Chevalier," written by "Atlanta" and "What We Do in the Shadows" scribe Stefani Robinson, briefly jumps back in time to witness young Joseph's arrival in France (he's not warmly welcomed into his posh school, which only seems to push him more firmly in his pursuits), most of the film chronicles a period of about eighteen months during which Joseph became a knight to Queen Marie Antoinette (a exceptional Lucy Boynton), threw his hat in the ring to conduct the Paris Opera, wrote an opera (now lost) to prove his salt, and fell terribly in love with a woman he could never be with (Samara Weaving ).

Real life Bologna could fill three movies and there's plenty more to come, and so while it makes perfect sense that this initially peppy offering would try to squeeze its existence into one cinema-ready package, "Knight" starts to feel smaller and smaller as it goes on. For such a great life - and such a great performance as the one Harrison skillfully pulls off here - it seems nothing less than diminishing. Despite the film's bold opening, "Chevalier" quickly turns to more traditional genre tropes, reducing Joseph Bologna to the kind of man one might find in any type of biopic, barely the original presence and unequaled as he clearly was in life and art. It is perhaps a compliment, that even our most daring revolutionaries can one day be slipped into a crowd-pleasing historical epic that requires no existing knowledge of its subjects to appreciate and appreciate.

And "Knight," despite its ever-changing storytelling, is enjoyable and worthy of appreciation. When Williams and Robinson loosen the strings and allow the film to feel as original and free as Bologna did at the height of its creative powers - a battle! with Mozart! with dueling violins! - and refuse to be beholden to the usual narrative rhythms and expectations, "Chevalier" soars. The same goes for Harrison, whose cocky take on the young star is funny, flinty, and entirely justified. It all looks and sounds wonderful too, as lush and lavish as one hopes to see in a film about a generational talent set in late 18th century France, thanks to Jess Hall's cinematography, the sets detailed designs by Karen Murphy, to confectionery costumes by Oliver Garcia, and the epic score by Kris Bowers.

Few people deserve the full-scale biopic as much as Joseph Bologna, and even when it's hitti...