The Count of Monte-Cristo. Dir. David Green. With Richard Chamberlain, Tony Curtis, Louis Jourdan, and Kate Nelligan. 1975.
I told you there'd be bad puns.
This is the shortest of all the versions I watched at 104 minutes. The story has been super-condensed, but the movie still ends up being a reasonably faithful translation of the book.
The first part of the novel--the arrival at Marseilles to finding the treasure--is represented perfectly. In fact, a little too perfectly. Edmond finds the treasure halfway through the film, which leaves little time for seeing what punishments Edmond crafts against the men for doing this to him. Nevertheless, Edmond's early life, his time in prison and relationship with Faria, and finding the treasure were great to watch, bringing the novel alive. I loved the detail about Faria hiding the treasure map in his cross, as well as his line, "Spend this fortune, which God has been hording for you, in good and holy ways." He knows what Edmond's thinking and tries to deter it by telling Edmond how lucky he is to be receiving this treasure that has been hidden for centuries. It must by God's will that he have this treasure, so use it for good things! Edmond's probably thinking instead, "If God's been hording it for me, then why should I not act as God and punish the wicked?
The first major change comes with the omission of the carnival at Rome. This change actually does nothing to the narrative fabric of the film. The Count simply shows up at Danglars' bank to open an account after a scene in which Danglars talks about the new nobleman, giving us a buildup to his first appearance. With no Carnival at Rome, Monte Cristo walks into Paris by himself instead of being invited after a "coincidence
led him into the life of Albert. He comes with a purpose instead of accidentally geiting involved in Parisian life after just happening to be around to rescue Albert from bandits, meaning that the conspirators could never suspect that he came to Paris for a reason other than because Albert invited him. It lessens his control, but on the other hand, it condenses the story in an acceptable way and clear way.
So, how does Chamberlain measure up as the Count? His transformation from sailor Edmond to wealthy Monte Cristo is impeccable. He doesn't talk much, has fine manners, knows art, and keeps a chilling silence, which puts Danglars on edge when he comes to open an account. And we learn all this in one short scene. His bribing of the telegraph operator keeps in line to his personality: he offers the money and the note, and then says nothing more, letting the man decide while the Count holds out five years' worth of pay. We don't get to see much of his real allure, but the film grants us less than an hour post-prison escape to get to know him. We hear more than see the exotic around him. He is classy, cold, quiet, and has very good aim with a pistol. He has a fascination with the macabre in talking to Villefort about "an eye for an eye" that lets us know that he's very thirsty for the justice he describes. His voice is good for a nobleman, and his clothes--black shirt, opera cape, hat--fit his personality and rank. He reminds me a lot of Kenneth Branagh in Hamlet: they both wear black and have platinum blonde hair. Edmond has black hair in the book, but white casts the same impression as black here (white also being a color of death and mourning in some parts of the world)--a cold figure who dresses in stark colors and keeps himself aloof. I give him a definite pass for point 1, though I would have liked to have seen much more of what he did with his money--I'm not quite sure if this guy would carpet a cave, though if he did, you can expect he'd be humble about it.
On a shallow note, I liked how cool he looked when he rode his horse on the surf in his opera cape and hat.
Too many characters are introduced who don't go anywhere. The Count meets Noirtier, and then the old man is never seen again, the Villefort family subplot having been severely cut back and changed. Valentine (her personality severely altered) appears in two scenes, but never gets much to do. This version, like 1934, makes her Albert's girlfriend and she exists here solely as someone for Andrea to court as a way to get into Villefort's family instead of having her own plot thread intertwined with Monte Cristo's. I don't mind Noirtier's appearance, I only wish that he had appeared again. The same goes for Valentine. Andrea tries to court Valentine and take her away from Albert, but this is the last we see of her, never knowing if, in this translation, she ever finds happiness with Albert. We're just told that Andrea wants to marry Valentine, and the latter's father is appalled to find out that Andrea is not real nobility. The shorter running time has a lot to do with this. With more time, this problem would have been solved.
In fact, hardly anyone has many scenes in this cut. Even the Count himself has little screen time, but what we see of him makes a good impression. The story is streamlined and heavily condensed, yet still makes sense. We know who everybody is, whom they're related to, who's insulted by whom, etc. It's not hard to follow. It just goes by too quickly, not giving us enough time to appreciate all the trouble the Count had to go to in order to set up this scheme or the agony his enemies go through, nor do we notice tiny events that have huge significance later. That's one of the joys of reading the long novel: everything takes so long to unfold that we don't realise just what is happening until the end, and upon re-reads, we can follow the plots closely. Here instead, he does a thing and the payoff is immediate. This film works as an escapist story, but not as a full experience and exploration of humanity.
The schemes themselves are effective, with the Count humiliating each man appropriately. Andrea's mother is no longer Hermine Danglars, but another woman who died in childbirth. With Danglars apparently unmarried for time constraints, this is the best way to further demonstrate Villefort's cruelty: not only did he have an affair, he killed the result of it after the mother died, leaving no trace of what she died to produce on the earth. What a horrible jerk. Fernand's final fate is probably just what book Monte Cristo would have wanted to happen had not Fernand taken matters into his own hands. Once again, the only problem is that there is a scene of setup, then the payoff--hardly enough time to take in the plan and appreciate/despise the man responsible.
The best scenes by far are the ones between the Count and Mercedes, and even though they have only two real scenes together, they convey the sorrowful tone of the book perfectly. The first is the one that begins with "Edmond, you will not murder my son." This scene contains much dialogue from the book and is better for it. He tells her that she is forgiven for marrying Fernand, and that Fernand is forgiven for taking fourteen years of his life, but Fernand is not forgiven for leading Louis Dantes to die of starvation. True, book Count never forgave Fernand for the prison years, but it's just as effective to say here that his prison time meant nothing so long as his father was taken care of, and the death of his father is a sin he will not forgive. In having the Count say this, the film does what most adaptations don't. Edmond is out for revenge, yes, but also for justice as the Avenging Angel. The duel with Albert happens, which unfolds wonderfully as Monte Cristo is prepared to die as he shoots away from Albert, who also shoots away, knowing that the Count had every right to expose Fernand to the papers. After the duel, Monte Cristo, like his book counterpart, sees this incident as proof that he should continue in his quest for vengeance, not for only himself, but for his dead dad. Point 3 fulfilled.
Sadly, point 2 is somewhat missing. A theme doesn't really seem to be present here. It's more of a swashbuckling tale of a man's quest for vengeance in the guise of the Avenging Angel. What nearly makes up for it is the final scene where Mercedes leaves France to go to Africa to support her son. She rejects Monte Cristo's offer to accompany her to provide support. Monte Cristo then acknowledges that they were once in love as young people but now cannot be together because of what they've done. Mercedes agrees and even remarks that Edmond is dead. And I promptly rejoiced. The meeting is solemn and full of melancholy. She wishes him happiness, but not with her. And how could they live together? His actions have forced her son into the army to regain his good name, and she feels guilty about marrying and not staying faithful to his memory. Every note they strike rings true; nothing is sentimental or forced. This confrontation has come naturally from their experience, providing a fitting conclusion to a story that began with young Edmond and Mercedes hugging on the pier, believing they were in for an innocent marriage. They end up separated with the knowledge that their correspondence is likely at an end. This adaptation probably handles the Edmond/Mercedes relationship better than any other.
It is here that the Count admits that his revenge brought him no joy, but we never see it. What we really needed was a scene or two of the Count in despair over what happened. When the book's Count realises he's gone too far, he hopes that he can stop the rest and that nothing else that he didn't intend will happen. Things get out of hand, innocents die, and we lose sympathy for the Count. We think, "Is this right? Is it okay for him to tear apart these families, kill people indirectly, and destroy the finances of those who banked with Danglars?" But here, we root for the Count completely, never doubting that he is right. Even the threat of killing Albert is off because Albert challenges the Count and is of age. However, the melancholy of the ending helps atone for this omission. Revenge on the people who screwed you over still cannot bring back what they screwed out of you. The two were torn apart by betrayal, but even though they actually could get together legally at the end, emotionally, they are incompatible. So, even though we see none of what the Count's vengeance has done to him personally, this last scene, with its heart-breaking reality, and wanting to avenge his father more than himself, makes up for it and passes for the novel's theme of revenge bringing a hollow victory.
With the story being shortened to film-length, we don't get the take the time to see just what lengths the Count will go to for revenge and appreciate how long it took him to set this up and see it paid off, nor do we see the story explore its themes properly. Maybe this story shouldn't be film-length. While some subplots could be excised, too many are necessary to the framework and themes, and time itself is what we need to show how manipulative and patient he is. However, Chamberlain's version works well as an introduction to the book and is good enough on its own to recommend.
Next: 1980's French miniseries Le Comte de Monte-Cristo.
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