Edmond Dantes Is Counting on Revenge in The Count of Monte Cristo

When my brother was in early elementary school and I was in high school, the two of us often watched Wishbone together. This PBS series starred a Jack Russell Terrier in dual roles: an ordinary pet in one storyline and a classic literary character in another. I’ve always considered myself an avid reader, but that show introduced me to several literary classics. One was The Count of Monte Cristo.

The writers of Wishbone had a great way of distilling a novel down to about 15 minutes while still having it make sense. Nonetheless, The Count of Monte Cristo is a pretty hefty book, so what little I remembered about what little made its way to Wishbone wasn’t much. I had only a vague idea of the plot when I watched the 2002 film adaptation directed by Kevin Reynolds, with a screenplay by Jay Wolpert.

Edmond Dantes (James Caviezel) is a good man who is betrayed by his friends and thrown in jail for a crime he did not commit. During his long imprisonment, his bitterness festers, but he finds a productive way to channel his angst: by painstakingly digging his way out of prison along with an ancient abbot who’s tunneled in from a nearby cell. As a fan of Richard Harris, it was a kick for me to see him as this impish but wise character, one of his last roles. In fact, their quiet companionship may have been my favorite part of the movie.

But it’s only the beginning of Edmond’s long quest, for after his improbable escape, he must find a fabled treasure in order to restore his fortune, and then he intends to bring down his treacherous friends, one by one. Throughout this part of the movie, he is aided by Luis Guzman’s Jacopo, a good-humored man who is fiercely loyal to Edmond, to whom he owes his life, but troubled by his obsession with revenge, particularly on Fernand Mondego (Guy Pearce), who went on to marry Edmond’s true love, Mercedes (Dagmara Dominczyk).

Caviezel gives an intense performance as a decent man twisted by years of suffering. I like him best when he shares scenes with other individuals who bring out the best in him: the sage abbot, the cheerful Jacopo and Albert (Henry Cavill), Mercedes’ gentle son. The movie is packed with enough action for three, which is almost what it feels like; there’s Edmond’s time in the prison; his sojourn with the pirates, where he finds Jacopo; and finally, his reemergence as the Count of Monte Cristo. It’s a fairly long movie at more than two hours, but I never felt that it dragged.

One of these days, I should probably read The Count of Monte Cristo, and then the purist in me can start chronicling all the changes that were made. But with my limited familiarity, I found this adaptation an exciting and well-acted film that I’d readily recommend.

Steve Martin Gives Cyrano de Bergerac a Modern Makeover in Roxanne

When I was in high school, one of my favorite television shows was Wishbone, a PBS show starring a Jack Russell Terrier who took the lead in each episode’s 15-minute adaptation of a classic novel. Yes, this was a series designed to encourage literacy in young children, like Reading Rainbow but more plot-driven. But I didn’t care what the intended audience was. I loved the clever way the series toggled between the ordinary, everyday dramas of Wishbone and his family of humans, particularly young teenager Joe and his friends, and the epic adventures found in stories like The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Faust, perhaps priming me to readily accept the unusual structure of LOST when I began watching it. Tightly paced and cleverly edited, these episodes riveted me, and they introduced me to several books that I would go on to read for myself.

The most memorable Wishbone introduction for me was Cyrano de Bergerac. This story of a man with a large nose and an eloquent tongue fascinated me, and when the book showed up as an option on my summer reading list a couple years later, it made my decision as to which book to read easy. I’ve seen several films and TV shows incorporating the concept of a linguistically challenged man asking his buddy to furnish him with words to help him court a woman, but usually it’s just a subplot. Last week, I finally got around to seeing Roxanne, the Steve Martin romantic comedy that is entirely based on this play, albeit loosely. While I think I ultimately prefer the short but sweet Wishbone treatment, the 1987 movie, which Martin wrote, is quite enjoyable.

Martin plays C. D., or Charlie, Bales, a small-town firefighting chief. He’s a kind, witty man whose enormous nose is rarely a stumbling block, but he begins to resent his facial structure when he meets Roxanne (Daryl Hannah), a gorgeous astronomer only in town for the summer. These two instantly connect on an intellectual level, but Charlie has pretty much resigned himself to the single life, and whatever hopes he has regarding Roxanne are dashed after she confesses her crush on Chris (Rick Rossovich), a decent but dopey rookie firefighter. After facilitating their first meeting, Charlie can’t simply step back and let the relationship unfold naturally. If he isn’t able to have Roxanne for himself, then he intends to live vicariously through Chris, who is such a bumbler that he seems doomed to completely crash and burn without Charlie’s help.

The bulk of the movie, then, involves Charlie waxing poetic for Roxanne but attributing the words to Chris. In some cases, he tells Chris what to say; in others, he spouts the words himself under cover of night. Mostly, though, he sends letters. Lots and lots of letters. Charlie is a brilliant writer whose florid prose makes Roxanne swoon, but how long can he pull off this deception? And how long will he want to?

While the first half of Cyrano de Bergerac has a largely comical flavor to it, it turns tragic by the end. Martin takes considerable liberties with the screenplay in that regard, furnishing a much more Hollywood-style happy ending. Additionally, his characters are not nearly as chaste as the ones written by Edmond Rostand. There is plenty of innuendo in this movie, along with an implied hook-up or two. The core relationships are pretty similar, however. Chris is a handsome young simpleton, Charlie is his verbose mentor, Roxanne is the lovely woman both men admire. While Chris is pretty likable, it’s immediately apparent that Charlie is a better match for the vibrant Roxanne.

While it’s fun to watch Charlie and Chris try to woo Roxanne together without her catching on, the hands-down best scene in the movie is the bar scene early on in which Charlie, in an effort to humiliate a man who has dared to insult his nose, rattles off 23 more creative ways in which he could have phrased his slight. Martin gets to show off his rapid-fire wit here as his clever jabs fly fast and furious. While most of the comedy in this movie stems from verbosity, there is also some purely visual humor, most notably a scene that finds Roxanne locked out of her house with no clothes. Charlie, Chris and Roxanne drive all the action in the movie, but small roles by Fred Willard, Shelly Duvall and John Kapelos add to the humor.

Roxanne is a little bit raunchier than I would have liked, but for the most part, it retains the core of sweetness and celebration of intellectual prowess that is in the original play - which, whether you come to it by way of Steve Martin or Wishbone, truly is a classic.