The Three Musketeers
DIRECTED BY PAUL W. S. ANDERSON
Given that The Three Musketeers begins with Athos (Matthew Macfadyen) emerging from the canals of Venice looking like Shredder in some baroque form of scuba gear, historians should leave their expectations at the door. For that matter, so should literature majors, Francophiles and those who believe in the basic laws of physics. The Three Musketeers isn’t preoccupied with doing Alexandre Dumas justice (and really, since the author is dead, why should it?), but is utterly invested in embracing the ridiculous.
All things considered, The Three Musketeers is about as foreign to cinema as Milla Jovoich is to 3D (more on that to come): since 1905 there have been, by our count, 28 film adaptations, including D’Artanyan i tri mushketera, the 1978 Soviet musical miniseries, and Barbie and the Three Musketeers, where yes, the musketeers are all Barbies BFFs (girl power!). Clearly each version has had its own twist, and this time around there’s not only the 3D element but a steampunk (baroque punk?) rendering of 17th-century weaponry.
After Milady (Milla Jovovich) double crosses le gang—comprised of Athos, Aramis (Luke Evans) and Porthos (Ray Stevenson)—to work for the Duke of Buckingham (Orlando Bloom), they lose their drive, falling to the drink and slumming about Paris. Enter d’Artagnan (Logan Lerman), a young man with an all-consuming desire to walk in his father’s footsteps as a musketeer. Funny follies ensue, un-bloodied bodies line the streets (this is PG after all), and next thing you know the three are back in the King’s court, caught in a plot to save France from Cardinal Richelieu (Christoph Waltz) and Captain Rochefort (Mads Mikkelsen).
The first half of the film makes good use of its stellar cast, as everyone involved seems to be enjoying the excess and cartoon-like plot twists. Indeed, despite the 3D technology, director Paul W.S. Anderson (no stranger to the medium after Resident Evil: Afterlife) creates a rather classic fairy-tale feel. The characters’ motivations are spelled out as plainly as their desires. Then there’s the casting: put an eye patch on Mads Mikkelsen and you have the portrait of evil.
What the film hinges on, however, is Jovovich. With as many costumes changes as she has scenes, Jovovich’s humorous deliveries, pure energy, and slomotion running abilities thoroughly animate the film. Indeed (and beware enthusiasts, a moderate plot spoiler lies ahead), when she is written out of the film it takes a decidedly different turn, amping up the steampunk in a—wait for it—zeppelin naval ship battle, infused with a dose of piracy for good measure. It’s Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow meets Master and Commander. In good faith one can’t really call The Three Musketeers good, but it is pure revelry in 3D; its absurdity and utter disregard for textual and historical basis makes it ripe for a good laugh. It might not be the classic “all for one and one for all”—but at least it has Milla.