Les Trois Mousquetaires (Serial) (no 84)

by Allan Fish

(France 1921 350m) DVD2 (France only, no Eng subs)

Aka. The Three Musketeers

All for one and one for all time

p  Henri Diamant-Berger  d  Henri Diamant-Berger  w  Auguste Maquet  novel  Alexandre Dumas, père  ph  Maurice Desfassiaux  art/cos  Robert Mallet-Stevens

Aimé Simon-Girard (d’Artagnan), Henri Rollan (Athos), Charles Martinelli (Porthos), Pierre de Guingand (Aramis), Pierrette Madd (Constance), Jean Joffre (Bonancieux), Jeanne Desclos (Queen Anne), Édouard de Max (Richelieu), Claude Mérelle (Milady de Winter), Charles Dullin (La Père Joseph), Henri Baudin (Rochefort), Maxime Desjardins (Treville), Armand Bernard (Planchet), Louis Pré, fils (Grimaud), Antoine Stacquet (Bazin), Marcel Vallée (Mousqueton), Gaston Jacquet (Lord de Winter), Germaine Larbaudrière (Duchesse de Chevreuse),

Hands up those among you who know the name of Henri Diamant-Berger?  Those who do, give yourselves a pat on the back as you won’t find him listed in many film books.   He’s very much a forgotten figure in cinema history, at least outside of France.  He became known as much as a producer and film critic and theorist as a director, and had an obsession with France’s cultural heritage.  To sum him up is not easy, but I would say that he is the perfect mixture of Louis Feuillade and Raymond Bernard.  That is to say a director who was most at home in the instalment narrative form of the serial, and who, rather than tell modern crime stories like his predecessor Feuillade, wanted rather to tell classic tales of yore.  His favourite, for he later filmed it again in the early thirties with largely the same cast, was Dumas’ cherished tale of romance, derring-do and friendship.

            We each have our own memories of this tale, and one’s favourite depends largely on which one we grew up with.  Famous versions starring Gene Kelly and Michael York were commendable enough, and another two part French version in 1960 which has its devotees, while some may dimly recall a 1966 teatime serial from the BBC with Brian Blessed a tailor-made Porthos and a memorable Richelieu from Richard Pasco.  Arguably more famous than any was Doug Fairbanks’ 1921 vehicle, which eclipsed in popularity Diamant-Berger’s painstaking French version, shot concurrently.  All of which is very sad, for looked back upon now, Fairbanks’ version is kept alive largely by the star and the production is very cheap – especially compared to later sequel The Iron Mask.  Some may look at Diamant-Berger’s version now and say that it is very conventional, and yet to these eyes they are perhaps missing the point. 

            In the modern age, classic TV adaptations of Dickens’ Bleak House and Our Mutual Friend (previously discussed) showed that the episodic format perfectly suits certain classic novels.  It’s no coincidence that Dickens’ novels were serialised originally in the newspapers, and the same was true of Dumas’ work in Paris in the 1840s.  Diamat-Berger was rather paying homage to Dumas’ own favoured structure, while also giving due attention to the one thing that Dumas cared most about; character.  Over eighty years on, the duels may seem of a different era, and Marélle is nowhere near seductive enough as Milady (I prefer Mary Peach or Mylène Demongeot’s interpretations), but it follows the story with a punctiliousness and detail that Dumas would have applauded and captures the spirit of his tale better than any version since.  Furthermore, it looks fantastic, much of it shot in realistic locations, utilising the French countryside spectacularly well and keeping its pace well over its fourteen twenty odd minute episodes.  As for the cast, they are rewarded with a curtain call out of character over the closing credits, all richly deserved.  Better still, fully restored on DVD with narration by Pierre Préjean, sound effects, subtitles for unspoken ‘silent dialogue’ and a perfectly in-keeping new score, it is a joy to behold.  There are no English subtitles, but true Dumas adherents don’t need them.  Settle back on a rainy Sunday and be literally transported back to another era.  Magnifique!