Another Joaquin Phoenix looney tunes performance as Ridley Scott offers ho-hum biopic

Many famous quotes are attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte.

“History is a set of lies agreed upon” is one. “Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake” is another.

And then there’s a less familiar line that’s uttered by the emperor of France in Ridley Scott’s movie “Napoleon,” starring Joaquin Phoenix: “Destiny has brought me this lamb chop!”

Excusez-moi?

Earlier, when the strategic genius is frustrated by rival Britain’s naval might, he whines like a little boy who’s been bullied at recess, “You think you’re so great because you have boats!”

Depicting one of the most consequential figures in all of European history as a sourpuss clown who crazily rattles off nonsense is a brow-raising choice by Scott, screenwriter David Scarpa and the always peculiar Phoenix.

After all, a person can’t very well forge a half-million-square-mile, multi-continental empire by being a total moron.

But that’s what this Napoleon is — a fool. Viewers spend most of the two and a half hours (Scott says his Apple TV+ cut will be a merciless four) laughing mockingly the guy who commissioned the Napoleonic Code. Our ever-present thought bubble: What the hell is Joaquin doing?

Typical Phoenix gives us his same creepy, whack-job performance from “Joker,” only now Arthur Fleck is accompanied by a pointy hat, massive scenery, impressive battles and a supremely skilled co-star in Vanessa Kirby.

The actor’s looney tunes turn is especially confusing because Scott doesn’t otherwise seem to be trying to break any new ground for history epics. “Napoleon” is, by and large, a run-of-the-mill, if rather anemic, battlefield biography.

The film begins right when you would expect it would — during the French Revolution in 1789 — and speeds to the beheading of Marie Antoinette and the fall of Maximillian Robespierre. We barrel through Napoleon’s rise from artillery commander to his coronation as emperor, which he pursues in part to shake off his reputation as a “Corsican thug.”

Perhaps the character’s island upbringing is why Phoenix speaks in his natural American accent while everybody else around him — mostly Francophones and Austrians — chat in posh English brogues.

But that uniform chorus of Angleterre voices from actors such as Rupert Everett and Ben Miles becomes a jumble when France starts fighting, um, the British.

When Napoleon is not attacking neighbors, he’s going head-to-head with his wife Josephine.

To prevent the movie from becoming a repetitive series of coups and bloody bouts, Napoleon’s relationship to the empress gets ample airtime — particularly the juicy drama of it. Josephine is oversexed and has a nasty habit of cheating on itty bitty Napoleon, which infuriates the man with an inferiority complex named after him.

On one of the couple’s first dates, she spreads her legs “Basic Instinct”-style and says, “If you look down, you’ll see a surprise. And once you’ve seen it, you’ll always want it.”

Ew. That awkward comment proves true, and he obsesses over Josephine his entire life — even after he dumps her for a woman who can bear him an heir. The regal Kirby, who knows her way around a palace, turns the empress into a sparring partner for Napoleon. She’s vicious, loving and full of mischief.

However, as Scott showed with the plodding “House of Gucci,” starring Adam Driver and Lady Gaga as Italian fashion royalty, passionate relationships are not this director’s strongest suit. The entire movie, even the story of Leon and Josie, is as cold as a Russian winter.

Speaking of Napoleon’s botched invasion of Russia, the “Gladiator” director naturally fares far better with the many fight sequences. Overhead shots of horizon-wide calvary charges, cannon fire, burning ships and other wartime sights are appropriately gigantic and brutal. The Battle of Austerlitz is especially exciting.

That’s all well and good, however it’s too bad Scott could not deliver a brilliant character study of one of the world’s great military leaders — and instead settled for letting a self-indulgent Phoenix fly over the cuckoo’s nest.