The Count of Monte Cristo. Dir. Kevin Reynolds. With James Caviezel, Guy Pierce, and Dagmara Dominczyk, and Luiz Guzman. Spyglass Entertainment, 2002. Runtime: 131 minutes.
I am grateful to this movie for one thing: it led me to the book. If I had not seen this film, I might never have gotten the desire to read such a long, epic novel. So for that, thank you.
And my praise ends there.
Okay, almost.
Once again, we have Edmond Dantes framed for treason by Fernand and Danglars. He goes to prison, meets a priest, escapes, finds a treasure, styles himself a count, and comes back to wreck havoc on his enemies. Oh, and his fiancee has married Fernand.
The similarities just about stop there. It very nearly is The Count of Monte Cristo in name only. Director Kevin Reynolds might have made his own original revenge movie instead, changing the names of the characters.
Edmond and Fernand start out as friends, and Fernand frames him out of jealousy for his happiness and envy of his fiancee Mercedes. Making them friends adds a layer of insidiousness not present in the novel. Fernand in no longer a stranger but a trusted friend whom Edmond thought he could rely on. Edmond then spends the next thirteen years in prison. I liked that the film showed his despair. He tries to hang himself after a few years but only stops when he latches onto the idea that God will give him justice. Later, he will stop believing in God and be out for revenge for himself, not as Providence, failing point 3 (but, this can be forgiven). Then Richard Harris comes along as Faria. He's the true bright spot in this film. He makes everything he touches sparkle. He has a lot of energy and is fun to watch. After Edmond breaks out, he makes friends with Jacopo. It seems like every time someone makes an adaptation, they give Edmond different friends: sometimes it's Bertuccio, sometimes Ali gets in, sometimes Jacopo, sometimes Vampa, rarely Baptistin. There's dissent over whether or not Luis Guzman was right in this movie. He sort of sounds like he doesn't belong with his speech patterns, but I liked him. Edmond meets people from all over the world, so why not someone like Luis Guzman? He's a friend/servant who tries to keep Edmond sane.
In the book, the Count manipulates events so that his enemies do themselves in. Their pasts come back to rob them of everything they achieved by wronging others. In the movie, Fernand would probably have done himself in without Monte Cristo's help. The Janina campaign is gone; instead, Fernand has gambling problems and is an adulterer. Without the Count, he would surely have fallen into debt and ruin. Monte Cristo hardly needs to do anything here. Fernand should have been completely stable and so secure so that only the Count's drudging up of his past could make him fall from glory. The film makes Fernand a wholy loathsome person, a guy with the word "villain" all but stamped on his forehead, who doesn't even seem to love anyone or anything, stripping away his cleverness, cruelty, and love of family that existed in the book. He's so nasty that he hardly even seems like a real person. There is one moment in this sequence, however, that is distinctly Monte Cristo--when Jacopo tells him about the bank debts and loans to Fernand, the Count says, "Make sure we own that bank by tomorrow."
"Jacopo, I need you to go buy a few things. Some milk, a couple of horses, and the bank that Fernand uses. Thanks a lot."
This is totally in line with book Monte Cristo: utter control and the funds to be able to to whatever he wants on a whim. It resembles the incident in the book where he asks his servant Bertuccio to buy Danglars' horses at whatever cost and have them harnessed to his carriage by five...when it's two. And Bertuccio gets it done. That's power. Caviezel's Count is also charming, dresses exotically, and speaks well. He makes his entrance to the people of Paris by going forward in time, bringing back some Cirque du Soliel dancers, and having them bring down his balloon in front of his mansion. He gets out and greets the people with a flat, "Greetings." That's the Count. Originality and a cool demeanor. Yes, I believe that this Count could carpet a cave and talk plainly about it.
Caviezel's Count does have the charisma and exoticism that the part needs. However, he fails on another major point. (SPOILER COMING) The Count exacts revenge and rides off happily into the sunset with Mercedes (and in this case, his biological son as well). His enemies get punished, no innocents are harmed, Monte Cristo has no regrets, and he's thoroughly rewarded for his behavior. While Caviezel displays the charisma and originality of the Count, he fails to show the darker, sadistic side. If the Count were not so diabolical, he would probably never carry out a revenge scheme that must have taken the whole nine years between his escape and arrival at the Rome Carnival to plan. He would buy a villa, retire to Florence, start a hotel, buy an old boat, and going out charter fishing every day. Without the nasty side, he would forgive his enemies and live his life in peace and luxury. This character change is a fault of the writing instead of the acting, however. The writers wrote out the events that come out of the Count's sadistic planning and the pleasure that the Count gets from watching people suffer as he did. Nevertheless, it still fails in criterion #1 on my list. Without all the facets of the Count's character, the story loses some impact, as we don't get to see how vengeance changes him for the worse. He also loses some appeal: he's a good guy and that's it. He doesn't have that villainous streak that makes him appealing and appalling. He claims at one point that he will kill Albert, but he doesn't seem like he would actually do it. Dumas wrote a great character with charm, talents, and demons. There's no need to change him.
The revenge plans are changed beyond all recognition. I read the book after the movie and had not a single part of the vengeance spoiled for me. Villefort's and Danglars' families are omitted, leading the Count to take revenge solely on them. This contributes to the Count's softer character: no innocents have a chance to be harmed, which is part of what causes the audience to dislike the Count as the book goes on. The only innocent who has a chance of being harmed is Albert, as the Count says on the island that he wants revenge on Mercedes as well for marrying Fernand, whereas in the book he forgives her. He doesn't make his enemies suffer enough. Does he make Villefort slowly lose his mind over a series of months from the deaths of his hosehold and then reveal the illegitamate child he had with Mde. Danglars to all Paris? No. Does he mess with the telegraphs and stock market for weeks, then kidnap Danglars and starve his money out of him? No. Does he set up a scandal for Fernand, ruin his name, make his wife and child turn against him, and almost kill the child after setting him up to challenge him to a duel so that he has a legal excuse to murder him in front of his parents? No. That's making them suffer. Life without the things that they gained from betrayal.
I saw the movie several times and I'm still not sure what happens to Danglars. His love of money is what the Count should make work against him, but I think he gets nearly killed and arrested instead. Hmm. So what was the Count's huge scheme against him? Just imprisonment? That's not nasty enough for the Count, nor is it fitting for a banker who could buy himself comfort (good food, blankets, wine, time outside, letters) in prison. Villefort is taken to jail, which seems a fitting punishment for a procureur du roi who unjustly sent a man to prison to save his own pride and position. I'm still a bit miffed that Villefort's family was omitted, because he cared for them just as much as his position when it came down to the wire, and also that greatly shortens the time that Villefort slowly suffers and loses his mind, but since they've been cut out, Villefort's position and freedom are all he has left, and those are stripped from him. His fate gets a pass (though he'd probably be able to buy comfort in prison too).
Fernand's doesn't. His fate is quite sad in the book. He kills himself after losing the last things he loved--his wife and son. When they leave without saying goodbye or looking back, he sobs horribly and shoots himself. The film changes all of this into something far less satisfying and complex. For one, Fernand begins life as a count's son and inherits the title and fortune, omitting all of the backstabbing he had to do in the book to obtain his title, money, prestige, and family. Then, Fernand loses his money and ends up dueling the Count, who reveals himself as Edmond. He actually has a pistol loaded and aimed at Edmond when Mercedes and Albert show up out of nowhere. Fernand then shoots Mercedes because he thinks that it will damage Edmond the most. (For the record, when he said that line, I said, "Shoot him in the head!" Even though a head-shot would have been hard to pull off in those days. Moving along.) Edmond actually wants to show mercy to Fernand before Mercedes is shot and is willing to leave Fernand ruined but alive. Once Fernand shoots Mercedes and prompts Edmond to fight, Edmond is not accountable for killing Fernand. After all, Fernand started the fight. Thus, we get a feel-good ending where the bad guy who doesn't fight fair and was given a chance to start over is killed by the good hero who was willing to show mercy. I think we've seen this cliche enough and it's time to put it in the grave.
(EPIC SPOILER) A major change: Albert is Edmond's son. What. The. Crap. Mercedes and Edmond had sex before marriage; she got pregnant and married Fernand to save face. Albert accepts Edmond as his father with no questions. This change brings up the idea that the biological father is more important than the father who raised the child. I've seen it done many times where a child finds out that its "real father" is not the man who has raised it and suddenly hates that father and goes to find the biological one (coughWarriorCatscough). Fernand might not have been a great father, but he was still there in Albert's life, and Albert must have cared about him somewhat. In fact, he does, as in their final scene together he asks, "Forgive me, Father," for being so stupid not to see the Count's plans earlier. We don't even see most of their lives; maybe Fernand was a great father for several years and only recently declined in his affection. Albert has lived with Fernand for sixteen years. Suddenly he has no problem going to live with a guy whom he hardly knows, who by the way killed the father who raised him? It would have been more interesting if Albert had been appalled by the whole affair and decided to leave France altogether, or at least get away as fast as he possibly can from these weird people who really can't let go of the past. That would inject some reality into the sappy ending.
Yes, this picture does it too: Edmond and Mercedes reunite. I explained why this doesn't work in my earlier reviews, but in a nutshell, the two have changed so much in twenty-four years that they're not the same persons anymore, and living together would only remind them of the happiness they wanted to have but can't now. In this version, they rekindle their love, decide to leave the country together, and even have sex again after Mercedes comes to see Edmond after recognising him at her party. Now, that plot thread may have gone somewhere if Mercedes had told Fernand that she slept with the Count of Monte Cristo; Fernand's cheated on her, now she's cheated on him. He couldn't satisfy her, so she looked to the new, mysterious nobleman. Would Fernand care or not? Would he throw her out of the house...or feel better now that she's had an affair too and can't call him out for his infidelities? Would their marriage have finally split, or would Fernand have decided to try to be a good husband again? The film doesn't even explore this topic. Mercedes just tells him that Edmond is actually Albert's father, and Fernand hardly even cares, like he's guessed it already or was just waiting for an excuse to leave his disappointment of a family and is happy to have one. Gosh, this film doesn't do anything interesting.
A few little mistakes that bugged me: I can believe that the Count has beautiful teeth: he definitely has the money to have dentures made. But how in the world does that cheap string stay on Mercedes' finger for over a decade? How do Edmond and Faria stay alive on one tiny bowl of soup per day? And how does Edmond almost become a ship's captain without being able to read and write? Another tiny one is that none of the characters appear to age. Book Edmond doesn't recognise himself after looking at his reflection fourteen years after the start of his imprisonment, so none of his friends could be expected to recognise him twenty-four years later. This movie has sped up the time to sixteen years, yet still none of them look it. Error in the makeup department, perhaps?
This film very basically follows the book with some plots and characters, but fails to bring alive the spirit of the novel. It should have been altered a little more and made into an original story with a different title and different character names. Omitted from this telling are the rather important characters Haydee and Andrea. They are essential as Chekhov's gunwoman and gunman, so without them the film has to construct a new revenge scheme that doesn't resemble the book's in execution or spirit. I'm upset that this movie is called Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. This is not Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. It's something else entirely. It contains none of my criteria for an adaptation that follows the book in theme and spirit and fails to capture even the essence of the classic book.
This book simply does not work as a two-hour movie. Dumas originally published it as a serialised work, the modern equivalent of which is the television series, or more specifically, the miniseries. I have noticed that the series are, generally speaking, more faithful and better adaptations than the films. True, movies should work on their own, but why name your work after someone else's work if yours hardly resembles theirs? Again, make something original inspired by the work if you want to tackle entirely different themes and completely change the characters. I've said it before in this review series and I'll say it again: this story should not be a film. There is nothing wrong with making a fifteen-hour miniseries. There's a great joy and comfort in being able to watch the same story play out over fifteen weeks, the story and suspense building and becoming more intricate all the time, characters coming and going. Do it, BBC or HBO!
Characters omitted: Haydee, Andrea, Bertuccio, Baptistin, Ali, Caderousse, Heloise, Edward, Valentine, Maximilian, Julie, Franz, Debray, Beauchamp, Chateau-Renaud, Hermine, Eugenie, Louise, Major Cavalcanti, Barrois, Countess G---, Teresa, Peppino, and all of Edmond's aliases. Noirtier is also effectively cut; he is renamed Clarion and does not play the part he has in the book. Louis Dantes is also given a different role by committing suicide rather than dying of loneliness and starvation because no one cared for the old man when Edmond left. The cruelty of his death is another thing that gives Edmond the drive to revenge.
Five down, one to go:
from 2004, Gankutsuou.
I made a poem.
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