Although discrete films, Martin Bourboulon’s Musketeer series is an epic which can be considered a single entity. Beginning with D’Artagnan and (perhaps) ending with Milady the two films are in some manner as close to pure Alexandre Dumas than any films which preceded them. Remembering that Dumas himself wrote the adventures of the Musketeers in serial format for a populist audience (and employed a ghost writer) the liberties taken with Dumas’ text would be something one can imagine the author himself applauding. Extravagantly expensive, action heavy – the films are exactly what they claim to be – blockbuster cinema.
For anyone who requires a reminder of the bare bones story of The Three Musketeers, it follows the adventures of D’Artagnan a young man from Gascony who makes his way to Paris to join the Musketeers – Louis XIII’s armed guard. Once there he manages to insult Athos, Porthos, and Aramis – the most feted of the musketeers and ends up agreeing to duel each of them. Thus begins the adventures which chronicle the troubled reign of Louis and the civil war between the Catholics and Huguenots. Court intrigue via Cardinal Richelieu, spy craft via Milady de Winter, double double crossing… there has always been a “boy’s own adventure” aspect to Dumas’ novel.
Re-writing Dumas is something every adaptation has done. Whether it be via Hollywood films through the golden age, or early 1990s extravaganzas (remember Kieffer Sutherland as Athos?) to Paul W.S. Anderson’s 2011 film starring Logan Lerman as D’Artagnan. There is a version of the story in Russian cinema, another in Brazilian cinema, there is a Hong Kong action version. Sometimes the films are comedies, sometimes musicals, sometimes accidental comedies. The basic tenet is that for Dumas to work a swash must be buckled.
Martin Bourboulon’s films lean in directly to the swashbuckling. The “young” D’Artagnan is played by François Civil. On his way to Paris, he is shot when he tries to rescue a young woman from what he perceives to be an abduction. Conveniently saved by his bible taking the bullet he makes it to Paris alive and reports to Captain de Tréville (Marc Barbé) who accepts him as a cadet. Spotting one of the men who shot at him in the street he “insults” Athos (Vincent Cassel), Porthos (Pio Marmaï) and Aramis (Romain Duris) while trying to chase down the mysterious man. Realising the absurdity of the situation (after some crafty swordplay) the key Musketeers take to the arrogant young pup and bring him into their world of wonder and woe.
Cassel’s wizened Athos – Count de la Fère – is a man for whom duty is the only solace he has after tragedy in his past. Marmaï’s boisterous and bisexual Porthos is perhaps the most charming version of the character in years – and one of the most emotionally intelligent versions. Duris’ Aramis is every bit the cad and womaniser (with more than a few double standards). How the infamous trio continue to inspire countless tales is something Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière’s script tries to reckon with. The illogical nature of their status as symbols of heroism exists because of the villainy of Richelieu (Eric Ruf) – but if that villainy is complicated by yet another level of villainy (which happens as the films progress), and the “enemy” is not defined there is a house of cards effect.
Yet, the Musketeers are mythic and Bourboulon’s incarnation of them makes sense in its own illogical way. The four men at the centre of the film – D’Artagnan, Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are somewhat ludicrous creatures. What they allow, however, is the introduction of the far more interesting Milady de Winter (Eva Green), Constance Bonacieux (Lyna Khoudri), and Aramis’ sister Mathilde (Camille Rutherford). In fact, it isn’t until the men in the film interact with women in some manner of equality, they become anything more than paper thin (Porthos aside).
Louis Garrel is a perfect sad sack Louis XIII married to Vicky Krieps as Anne of Austria. Most of Richelieu’s machinations are centred around having Anne beheaded because of his anti-Hapsburg stance. Constance is Anne’s maid and confidant. Somewhere in the muddle Anne is having a serious love affair with The Duke of Buckingham (Jacob Lloyd-Fortune) – a historically notoriously heterosexual man (!) who appears in the film to be a serial womaniser. Louis XIII is genuinely resistant to civil war until he is pressured into it via his brother Gaston the Duke of Orleans (Julien Fison) and some bad manners on behalf of his subjects. All roads lead to La Rochelle where some absolutely epic storming of castles, firing canons at ships, and hideous torture scenes make for A-grade spectacle.
What is fascinating about Bourboulon’s film is that despite all the torture, the war, and the blistering action is that it is generally quite bloodless. Eva Green consistently appears with a pipe in her mouth, but no smoke is expelled. There is an odd innocence to the film which is at odds with the reality of any war. Many people die and violently so, but where in most other films there would be blood spraying everywhere, there is nary a drop.
Innocence seems to be the heart of D’Artagnan and Milady. Constance Bonacieux is no longer married so her love affair with D’Artagnan does not offend propriety. Milady is a woman whose innocence was ripped from her when she was so young she knows nothing but vengeance. She placed her trust in Athos who decided it was more important to maintain his position as a nobleman than it was to protect his wife. As Milady goes scorched earth on almost everyone it is not only understandable, but forgivable, until she inadvertently causes the death of another beloved character.
Some of France’s finest actors are at the forefront of D’Artagnan and Milady. In fact, some of Europe’s finest actors. Bourboulon gleefully mixes subtle performances (Eric Ruf is one of the least fang baring Cardinals in memory) and bombastic performances. The pleasure of the film is in watching Eva Green go toe to toe with everyone in her exquisite costumes speaking French, Spanish, German, English, and Italian with ease while she dances around foolish and venal men.
The addition of a Black Musketeer is a nice touch – especially as that honours Dumas’ mixed-race heritage. Hannibal (Ralph Amoussou) is a reminder that France was very much a colonising nation.
To compare D’Artagnan and Milady to prestige television is not an insult to the films – in fact they are being spun off into prestige television. Within the films there is an episodic quality which works to their advantage. It doesn’t take away from the cinematic achievements – the excellent sets, costumes, choreography, and performances. D’Artagnan and Milady are big screen movies which also work as serials.
Brash, bold, and frequently ridiculous – D’Artagnan and Milady are Alexandre Dumas in all it’s ludicrous glory. You might come for the promise of the Musketeers, but you stay for Eva Green wearing wigs (Eva as a blonde, redhead, and brunette) and punishing those who did her wrong. An adventure, a courtroom drama, a historical romance, a melodrama, a story of war – a revision of Dumas which makes them particularly Dumas – D’Artagnan and Milady are most of all great fun. Doffing one’s feathered cap to Bourboulon’s epics is the correct response.
Director: Martin Bourboulon
Cast: François Civil, Vincent Cassel, Romain Duris, Pio Marmaï, Eva Green, Louis Garrel, Vicky Krieps, Lyna Khoudri, Jacob Fortune-Lloyd, Eric Ruf
