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THE
COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO
REVIEWED
BY CHARITY BISHOP
Our
rating: 3 out of 5 Because
of: sensuality, adultery, violence
Rated:
Alexander
Dumas penned many classic sword-swinging adventures. The best known of these is The
Count of Monte Cristo. Those who have read the book will find only vague resemblances
to characters and plot twists in this adaptation. It's received praise from many
Christian reviewers but my notes come with a grain of salt... since I see the
fatal flaw for what it is: modern morals and philosophies. The
film begins with lifelong friends Edmund Dantes (James Caviezel), the humble son of a clerk, and
Fernand Mondego (Guy Pierce), the spoiled son of a nobleman. Both are employed as sailors on
a merchant ship. When their captain falls dangerously ill, Edmund determines to
brave the edict against landing on Napoleon's shores to beg mercy. They are
discovered, captured, and the evicted French leader uses Edmund's innocence to
his own advantage.
The man is sworn to secrecy and asked to take a letter back
to France. Foolishly
he obliges and seals his fate. On returning to the mainland minus a captain his bravery and compassion is rewarded; he is offered the position of
captain, over the head of the callous and unjust first mate. His beautiful fiancée
Mercedes (Dagmara Dominczyk) is thrilled, since it means that they will be able to wed sooner than
planned. Little does he know that Mondego has become covetously jealous of
his good fortune... and is lusting over his would-be wife. Through a series of
political games, Edmund is arrested for being a spy and sentenced to imprisonment.
Managing
to escape he hurries to the home of Mondego for aid only to find his
"friend" behind his arrest. Torn from his family and
lover, Edmund is sent to the prison where innocent prisoners are kept. There,
beaten annually by the cruel prison warden and forced to confine himself to a
six by four foot cell, Edmund despairs.
There are words scratched into the wall
of his cell. They read, "God will give me justice." But all he can
think of is revenge. Classic
tales of wronged heroes, notorious villains, and beautiful ladies have always
sold theater tickets, and The Count of Monte Cristo is no exception.
Lavish to look at, intelligent in scripting and design, and often
thought-provoking, it is an amiable adventure beyond revenge into the heart
of mercy. While imprisoned, it's those words carved into the wall that keep
Edmund from killing himself. He also makes the acquaintance of an old prison
inmate, a priest who attempts to conform Edmund to ways of faith as they
plot their escape. But the moral flaws run rampant, particularly if you're as defensive of your
Christian beliefs as I am.
My complaints about the production itself are
few. The costuming is beautiful and the ending climax just the sort of swashbuckling
adventure I enjoy. The acting is sometimes stilted, the film has almost too
languid a tone to it, the soundtrack is occasionally engaging, and the
scenes in the prison crawl by at a snail's pace. It also borrows heavily
on the plot points of another (and arguably better) swashbuckler, The
Mask of Zorro, right down to Edmund's escape from the prison. My
main problem is not with the film but the scriptwriter, who made modern
changes to Dumas' characters: he turned Edmund and Mercedes's innocent
relationship into a sexual one, and gave them an adulterous tryst in the last
half. The priest respects the Christian faith, but he's the only one.
Although Mercedes speaks at length about the mercy of God and His purposes, she
is seen only seconds later engaged in an adulterous kiss and implied sex with a
returned Edmund. That
offended me grievously and is why this swashbuckler won't be added to my
collection. It adds a dull ring to the closing pro-God statement: "This I promise you and God: All that was used for vengeance will be used for good."
It also laces irony through religion as Edmund, laying beside a sleeping
Mercedes, gazes up at a painting of Christ on the ceiling. Something to counter
this is his slow transformation from desiring revenge to showing mercy; only
when his hand is forced at the last does he take desperate measures to protect
his family.
I have
skimmed the content in favor of my issues with the spiritual side of the film,
but will summarize briefly other areas of concern. There is virtually no
language. The necklines are plunging but not so immodest as to become
blush-worthy. Edmund and Mercedes are shown swimming in the moonlight and then
kissing on the beach; but their bodies are blocked and it's a blurry, far-off
shot. Their later scene of adultery is almost
chaste, showing them laying next to one another in bed. Mondego makes it very
plain he keeps a mistress. Violence
amasses to several mildly graphic deaths by the sword (the blade is seen
sticking through the body on both occasions), a non-bloody shooting, and
prisoner abusee. Edmund is whipped many times by the prison guards. A tunnel
cave in kills someone. The Count allows a man to be nearly strangled and
provides a prisoner with a gun. After escaping the prison, Edmund drowns the
warden. Mondego is shown several times in the act of murder without remorse.
Prisoners eat dead rats.
Despite
the disappointing adulterous element, The Count is a memorable experience
and has many good points. Unfortunately, the lack of respect for faith, and nonchalant
air of the leading roles toward immorality make a mockery of its good traits.
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