The duo Alexandre de La Patellière and Matthieu Delaporte, already writing on The three Musketeers, brilliantly adapt Alexandre Dumas’ epic novel. They sign an old-fashioned adventure film with a very convincing Pierre Niney in the role of Edmond Dantès.
New chapter in the Dumas cinematic Universe initiated by Pathé, The Count of Monte Cristo has the heavy task of succeeding the diptych of Three Musketeers and the lot of frustrations that it could have generated. The choices are clear: compress a 1200-page novel into a single 3-hour film, distance ourselves from the dull aesthetic choices of the previous essay, and find how to lift classicism without falling into embarrassment.
The first one turns out to be a good option. Faithful readers of Dumas will obviously have reason to be offended by the numerous cuts and adjustments to the story, and it will be necessary to accept that this project is nothing more than a new version of the original material. But the profusion of the story persists, and the many spectators, especially the new generation who will discover this brilliant plot for the first time, should find something to their liking. The three hours are particularly well used to restore the long time of the revenge, without any loss of rhythm through a skillful management of ellipses and alternating montages, careful to balance the time spent by the many secondary characters. The staging assumes an academicism that unites the greatest number, not without some heaviness, especially on the drone shots or an excessive use of bombastic music. The duo Alexandre de La Patellière et Matthew Delaportealready writing on The three Musketeersclearly distances itself from the choices of Bourboulon, and reconnects with old-fashioned cinema, more favorable in this plot which plays more on wide open spaces, stratagems in high places and duels in due form than epic fights. The sunny and colorful imagery, which has the good taste of not falling into the excess of saturation of the all-digital, completes the convincing by taking the viewer from the Mediterranean to the upper echelons of the city dwellers.
The success of the film lies in its balance, and in the seriousness with which it takes hold of the literary material. This is probably where it is most convincing: the academicism, without being dusty, remains at a good distance from the failings of the time, and expresses a sincere enthusiasm for the old-fashioned adventure film on which we are not going to graft ill-advised humor, meta references or parodic cynicism. From this point of view, the casting is also to be taken into account: unlike its buddy François Civil In LThe Three Musketeers, Pierre Niney convinces perfectly: freed from the status of young leader, he infuses his character with the suppressed anger and an obsession with mastery necessary for his complexity. And the waltz of the characters around him is to match, notably Laurent Lafitte who still loves playing the bastard, or Anamaria Vartolomei which blends perfectly into the world of blockbusters.
Another change in strategy on the part of Pathé, the release brought forward to the summer, a new formula for French cinema which generally leaves this slot to American blockbusters. Hopefully all these lessons learned from previous experiences, combined with the audacity of a bet on the public’s desire for the in-theater experience, can be rewarded.
Sergent Pepper
