Spotlight
Spotlight Date: 16-April-06
Spoiler Rating: Medium
The Count of Monte Cristo (1934) and The Count of Monte Cristo (2002)
A comparison of classic and modern versions of "The Count of Monte Cristo" has been on my mind for some time, and the mention in "V for Vendetta" brought it to the fore. These stories are built upon the fact that revenge is sweet, which allows them to appeal to a wide audience who can ignore the complications of conscience, etc. which vengeance usually entails. Yet for some fans like me, how well such sticky issues combine with the action and gratification determines the stories' success. The pirates of the Caribbean may offer carefree adventures (valid in their own right), but mysterious men like V offer titillatingly tragic proof that crusaders for justice can't satisfy their needs without a price (which makes them especially romantic). This penchant for complicated revenge explains my unlikely preference for the newer "Count of Monte Cristo" over the old one.
It has been a while since I read Dumas' book, but I feel safe in saying that it differs significantly from the movies just as they differ significantly from each other. Very basically, the tale is this: in 1815, after Napoleon's exile to Elba, a good kid named Edmond Dantes sails into his home port of Marseilles with a letter containing communications from the erstwhile emperor. He is merely fulfilling a promise to deliver the letter and has no political ambitions; all he wants is to marry his sweetheart Mercedes and enjoy a comfortable life as an honest ship's captain. Within hours, however, he's arrested for treason and bundled off to the island prison of Chateau D'if. There he languishes for many years, obsessed with the men who orchestrated his demise: an acquaintance named Mondego, who didn't vouch for him; his mate Danglars, who apparently reported the letter to the police; and the magistrate Villefort, who incarcerated him without a trial. After nearly a decade he miraculously meets another prisoner in the form of an old holy man, who imparts to him knowledge, hope, and the secret whereabouts of a vast treasure. Several more years pass before Dantes finally escapes, falls in with pirates, retrieves the treasure, and returns to France as the Count of Monte Cristo, an outwardly magnificent nobleman who's inwardly bent on payback.
In the 1934 version, Robert Donat takes Dantes on a long journey from patsy to patriarch to a count who suggests Sesame Street more than an Italian treasure island. His stint in Chateau D'if is about 20 years, compared with 14 in the book, and his crusade is more confidently religious than we find in the later film. In my eyes, Donat doesn't make much of a romantic hero (although at the time his role was immensely popular). Sure, it sucks to live in a stone cell for two decades, but where is the deep anguish that persists after his freedom is restored? This Dantes is presented as an instrument of God, doling out justice efficiently and with little concern for the coldness it requires. More unforgivably, he's so cool that he strikes his opponents obliquely, which means that there's hardly any swashbuckling at all.
The only good thing about such bloodless vengeance is that it highlights the villains as inveterate scumbags, giving them life enough to offset the impassive hero. (If they had wronged Dantes and then gone on to lead upstanding lives, the story would be much different, much darker.) It's interesting to note in the 1934 picture how the bad guys' stars rise while Dantes is in prison, and in fact because they put him there. Mondego (Sidney Blackmer) not only marries Mercedes (and cheats on her) but becomes a noted ambassador. Danglars (Raymond Walburn) capitalizes on the connections he made by fingering Dantes to become a prominent banker. And Villefort (Louis Calhern) rides his reputation for strict loyalty all the way to the office of the king's advocate. They embody the sins of envy, greed, and selfishness so relentlessly that all Dantes has to do is impale them (figuratively) on their own swords. This serves the theme of Dantes as avenging angel, but it also fleshes out a movie in which Elissa Landi as Mercedes often seems like the only vibrant character.
The 2002 "Count of Monte Cristo" stars Jim Caviezel, and while his suffering foreshadows his Jesus gig for Mel Gibson, his Dantes is more human than divine. The story has been narrowed into a personal conflict under the pen of Jay Wolpert, as signaled with the introduction of Mondego (Guy Pearce) as Dantes' callow best friend and a glimpse of Dantes and Mercedes (Dagmara Dominczyk) having sex on the beach. The other villains are present, but Villefort (James Frain) remains a static menace while Danglars is reduced to a scowling thug of little importance. What's really at stake here is Dantes' lost innocence (regarding his soul in prison, not his body on the beach), the treachery of Mondego, and the unfortunate fate of Mercedes and her son. When Dantes leaves the Chateau D'if (after a much more elaborate schooling than Donat got, from holy man Richard Harris), he wants to inflict pain rather than exact justice. His coldness denotes a once goodhearted nature steeling itself for bitter deeds.
And deeds set this movie apart from the classic. Fresh out of prison, Dantes exercises his freedom by killing the vicious warden and proving himself to the pirates with a knife-fight. As the Count of Monte Cristo (whom it's absurd that no one recognizes, but what the hey), he comes across as aggressive even when hosting a party, his long cape swirling behind him like a diamond-studded Darth Vader. He enjoys a bodice-heaving run-in with Mercedes and uses swordplay as well as scheming to fulfill his angry fantasies. Most important, his final showdown with Mondego speaks to his need to reconnect with humanity while offering a good, cathartic fight to boot. Yes, it's formulaic and predictable, but one doesn't watch such a movie to be surprised. This is one instance (the one instance?) where the current Hollywood formula serves a remake well. The man-to-man rivalry, the love triangle, and the action make Caviezel's count more earthly than Donat's, which puts him in a higher class.
Copyright © 2006 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.
