The Count of Monte Cristo - PBS Masterpiece Series

First things first: I've never read Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. I know, I know, it's a timeless classic of world literature but since it wasn't required reading for any of my high school or college courses, I let it slide. Maybe that was a good idea, maybe it wasn't. All I knew back then was that it was a 1300+ page doorstopper of a novel, a mid-19th Century swashbuckler--most likely overwrought and verbose--translated from the French. And since I had places to go and people to see, I simply couldn't picture myself tackling a tome of that size and scope. To this day, I still haven't read it. But let's be honest, how many people do you know who have? I'll wait. 

As a limited series, The Count of Monte Cristo is currently running on PBS Miami Channel 2, and won't wrap up for another 3 weeks so I thought that, maybe, by watching this, I'd somehow make up for the literary negligence of my self-education. However, by the time the series came to my attention, the third episode was airing, so I'd already missed a significant portion of the story, most notably the events that set the plot in motion. Not to worry, though, because, as contributing members of PBS, we have access to all their programming, even those currently in progress. Consequently, over the weekend we binge-watched The Count of Monte Cristo in its entirety. Consisting of 8 episodes, the series is a twisty, thrilling adventure/melodrama fueled by treachery, greed, betrayal and revenge. Set against the picturesque backdrop of early-mid 1800's France, The Count of Monte Cristo spins the tale of Edmund Dantes, a handsome and talented sailor whose seafaring skills prompt his ship's elderly captain to appoint Dantes as the new commander when it becomes obvious that the older man won't live to make landfall. 

This does not sit well with Dantes' calculating shipmate, Danglars, who feels that he should be the ship's captain, despite his lack of expertise (compared to that of Dantes). As he dies, the old captain slips Edmund a sealed letter to be delivered to a Monsieur Noitier in Paris. "Make sure to personally deliver this to Noitier and let no one else read the contents," the old man whispers. Unbeknownst to either man, lurking just outside the captain's cabin is Danglars, who is all ears and full of malice. This information he's just overheard will soon prove useful.

Tucking the letter into his jacket, Edmund manages to steer the ship through a major storm and land the crew safely in Marseilles. Once docked, Edmund's new position is formalized by M. Morrell, the owner of the shipping line. As Danglars sulks among the riffraff in town, Edmund hurries to the countryside to meet up with his beloved Mercedes, the young woman he plans to marry in the coming days. 

However, Edmund's intentions pose a problem. The problem's name is Fernand Mondego, Mercedes' cousin and ardent admirer who wants to keep the bride-to-be all to himself. Upon hearing the news of Mercedes' upcoming nuptials, a verklempt Mondego chances upon Danglars in a local tavern. Discovering that they have a rival in common, the pair concocts a scheme to remove Edmund from the picture and achieve their respective goals. Caderousse, the bar owner, overhears the conspirators and vehemently chastises them, causing Danglars to toss a key piece of fabricated "evidence" against Edmund into the fireplace. Unfortunately, once Danglars leaves, Mondego retrieves the incriminating paper before it has started to burn. Caderousse remains silent. 

Danglars and Mondego hatch their plan, resulting in Edmund's arrest at his engagement dinner. No one at the party (except for Danglars and Mondego) has any idea what is happening and the arresting officers aren't keen on enlightening anyone (hint: it's because they're not entirely sure themselves). Once Caderousse gets wind of the arrest, he confronts the two conspirators who threaten to kill him if he breathes a word. At police headquarters, Edmund claims innocence to any crime he's been accused of, and the chief prosecutor, Villefort, seems to be willing to let him go--at first. Unfortunately, Edmund mentions the letter entrusted to him by the dead captain and, at the last minute, Villefort asks to see it. The prosecutor reads the letter and is completely appalled, both at the contents and the recipient's identity. Noitier!  This turns out to be the final nail in the coffin for Edmund, who has just handed over his freedom to an unscrupulous bureaucrat who will stop at nothing to protect his reputation and high ambitions. Villefort, now part of the unholy trio who set Edmund's fate in motion, has his henchmen spirit Edmund away to the Chateau d'If, an (allegedly) inescapable island prison fortress within sight of Marseilles. 

And there Edmund Dantes remains for 15 years. 

In the dankest, darkest dungeons of the Chateau d'If, Edmund languishes in solitary filth, totally at the mercy of the cruel warden and his brutal, slow-witted guards. And then one day, a few years after his imprisonment, Edmund hears someone in the cell next to his. It surely must be the madman the guards speak about! Despite the fact that the stone walls between the cells are at least 10 feet thick, Edmund begins surreptitiously clawing and digging until he is able to reach the man. The "madman" turns out to be Abbe' Faria, a long-term prisoner who has managed to convince his captors that he is, indeed, insane. Except, of course, he's not. He's actually a brilliant, cultivated scholar who, over the course of several years, provides Edmund with a comprehensive education and thoroughly schools the younger man in the ways of civilized (i.e., culturally elite) society, its intellectual demands and financial workings. 

Abbe Faria is also keen to escape from this prison hell so he can get to the island of Monte Cristo and get his hands on a hidden treasure left there by wealthy Italians some centuries before. Engaging the skeptical, but still willing, Edmund to assist him in a prison breakout, Faria provides instructions on what portion of the wall they should chisel into so it will escape notice of the guards. Meanwhile, after hours of digging, Edmund returns to his own cell and replaces the heavy stone concealing the tunnel leading to Abbe Faria. Okay, so these guards are really, really stupid. 

Cut to a year or two later and the pair think they are finally getting close to the sea wall. Only they've been tunneling in the wrong direction so no, they're not. Remember that Faria has continued instilling Edmund with a fantastic education that has--providentially--expanded to include chemistry lessons. There's also a map of Monte Cristo, purportedly leading to the hidden treasure which may or may not exist. After the two men attempt to correct course with their digging operation, Abbe Faria has a stroke and soon dies, appealing to Edmund to find the treasure and keep it for himself. When the guards find Faria's body, they're instructed by the warden to sew him into a canvas shroud and toss the body into the sea. But these guys are famished from all the beating and torturing they've been administering to the inmates, so they decide to have a little nosh first. Whilst the guards are dining, Edmund hides Faria's body in his own cell and climbs into the burlap bag intended for Faria's disposal. In short order, the guards return, sew Edmund into the shroud and toss him through the prison's battlements and into the ocean. Oh, and they also chained a cannonball to the shroud so Edmund has to contend with that as he sinks to the sea floor. 

Of course, Edmund, being the main character, manages to tear his way out of the body bag and swims away from the hellhole where he has been entombed for 14 years. Fortunately, he winds up on the small boat of a smuggler named Jacopo and his mute cousin, and convinces them to steer towards Monte Cristo. On the island, Edmund looks high and low for the cave containing the treasure, all to no avail. Jacopo insists that they leave immediately and head back to Marseilles, where Edmund keeps a low profile and continues to strategize. Stealing Jacopo's boat, Edmund makes his way back to Monte Cristo and--finally--discovers the cave chock-full of treasure chests full to the brim with assorted gems and expensive bric-a-brac. 

The next thing you know, old Ed's a millionaire: he's reinvented himself as the fabulously wealthy Count of Monte Cristo. How he managed to get all that treasure off the island in such a short time and sell it for such vast sums of money makes no never mind. He did, and for the purposes of our story, that's all that matters. 

After purchasing a newer, shinier boat and two houses for Jacopo and his family, Edmund hires him as his right-hand man. Tracking down a repentant Caderousse, Edmund also takes him on to act as his spy in Paris. Because, don't you know, Paris is where the principals who so gravely wronged Edmund have ended up. Danglars is now a baron and an important banker in the city, Mondego has rechristened himself Count de Moncerf after murdering a wealthy benefactor and stealing his fortune, and Villefort has risen to dizzying heights in the French courts. 

There's also Mercedes, who promised Edmund that she'd wait for him as they were dragging him away to prison. She's now married to Mondego/de Moncerf and living the high life of a sophisticated Parisienne. So much for "waiting", or so Edmund thinks. The truth, it turns out, is a little more complicated: after being falsely informed that Edmund committed suicide in prison, Mercedes moved on with her life. 

So, all these people have families now, they're all socially (and otherwise) connected, attend the opera, act haughty, look miserable, and there are so many scandals between all of them that they are ripe for the picking when the Count of Monte Cristo makes his triumphant entrance into Parisian society. Because, thanks to Caderousse and various other sources hidden away in Paris, Edmund knows things. And he will stop at nothing--literally nothing--in his quest to wreak righteous retribution on those villainous fiends who sent him up the river, even if it entails the suffering of innocents. Which it surely will.

And this is only the halfway point in the series. From here on out, all bets are off as to what devious new machinations Edmund will employ to further take down his enemies. It's a constant surprise, diabolical and relentless.

Sam Claflin, as Edmund/The Count, is gaunt and haunted looking, the perfect physical embodiment of a man who has endured the tribulations suffered by his character. His fury is both scary and compelling, made all the more so by Claflin's shrewdly captivating performance: his Edmund may be an avenger, but he's no hero, which makes him all the more interesting. Playing Abbe Faria, Jeremy Irons is delightful, and has quite a lot of fun tackling a role where he is scarcely recognizable (except for that unmistakable voice). Blake Ritson (Danglars), Harry Taurasi (Mondego) and Michael Boe Folsgaard (Villefort) make convincingly baaaad villains, and Ana Girardot is lovely as Mercedes. Director Bille August (past winner of the Oscar, Golden Globe and Palm d'Or for Pelle the Conqueror) has created a beautifully scripted, high-budget series that is psychologically and emotionally gripping, while delivering a great deal of adventure and suspense. 

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