The Count of Monte Cristo

Pierre Niney

Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière's The Count of Monte Cristo is by far the most accomplished version of the 1844 chestnut. Now that's saying something, since there have been around twenty film version of the Dumas' novel and over thirty television adaptations, including a 1975 television film starring the recently departed Richard Chamberlain. The nearly three hour length of this version allows the filmmakers the amplitude to fully capture the flavor and texture of this Romantic potboiler. Nearly all prior film versions have had to eliminate major supporting characters and incidents in order to get a running time of two hours or so. The 2024 film does eliminate some minor characters, but preserves many key elements, such as the subplot concerning an infant buried alive and Eugénie Danglars' lesbianism, that add extra richness to the film's splendid tableaux.

The director/writer/producers add one key character to the plot and it is a welcome addition that fits in with the colorful nature of the tale. This character adds transvestism and a shipwreck to a story replete with thrilling elements: duels, secret passageways, hidden treasure, disguises, sword fights, and a prison escape. The Dumas work is often thought of as escapism, but there is as much of a critique of French society in this tale as you will find in Balzac and Hugo. It is not insignificant that the three major villains of the piece represent three of the pillars of French culture and their attendant corruption: the justice system, the military, and capitalism. The villains are all superbly etched by their portrayers here, as are the female characters who are given a little more agency than usual while not being made to seem modern. Best in show is Pier Francesco Favino, a lauded Italian actor with little notoriety in this country, as Abbé Faria, Edmond Dantès savior in prison. 

Pierre Niney, best known in America for portraying the titular role in Jalil Lespert's Yves Saint Laurent, portrays Dantès with a little less romantic dash than usual and I think this is purposeful on the part of the filmmakers. Abbé Faria's parting advice to Dantès is an admonition to balance justice with mercy, advice Dantès generally ignores in his quest for vengeance. The reader and audience usually ignores this admonition because the recounting of Dantès' attaining his vengeance is so exciting. However, there is an implied criticism in Dumas' portrayal of Dantès' cold ruthlessness that this film retains which is often glossed over in other adaptations. This is just one of many reasons why this version of The Count of Monte Cristo rises well above similar handsome period pieces.