Edmund Dantes is here portrayed by Richard Chamberlain and he's pretty good as the innocent ship's captain in the early 1800s, egregiously handsome, full of probity, and betrayed and framed by three really mean mothers. They include Donald Pleasance, who just wants to see Chamberlain suffering out of sheer meanness; Tony Curtis, who is after Chamberlain's beloved Mercedes, played by a spirited and pretty Kate Nelligan; and another greaseball, Allesio Orana, who has been publicly insulted by Chamberlain. Arana is no more than a sneering villain who feels mistreated. But Tony Curtis is motivated by desire, not revenge, and Pleasance looks good in a rug -- years younger. He's also traduced by Louis Jourdan, the prosecutor, who puts him in a dungeon forever, for political reasons.
It's a period picture of course and is visually very stylish, shot at Cinecittá in Rome, and in Liguria, a fishing port on the Mediterranean coast of Italy. The outdoor scenes are colorful, sunshine, castles, courtyard, and cold stone enhanced by the gaudy but convincing uniforms of the ship's officers and the guardsmen. Well, I've used the word "convincing" to describe the uniforms but I doubt that the French military of 1815 wore uniforms quite so tightly tailored. The guys look like ballet dancers in tights. They have no shame. Kate Nelligan, hélas, reveals nothing more than her face, which embodies both sex appeal and a guarded nurturing quality.
Chamberlain spends eight years in a dungeon at the Château D'Ifre, which can be visited by tourists. His first years were in solitary confinement but then he tunnels into the next cell and is not only taught the wisdom of the ages by the wizened old priest there, Trevor Howard, but is also told the location of a horde of treasure and jewels. The priest dies, Chamberlain manages an escape, finds the treasure, become as rich as Bill Gates, spends much of it on philanthropic enterprises, and emerges from his years of exile looking tall, distinguished, and terribly rich. He's more loathesomely handsome than before, bearded, sweeping around with his stylish silver wig, walking stick, and long black frock coat.
Returning to Paris he begins to take his revenge. He has our enemies and he destroys them with exquisite finesse. The fourth -- Tony Curtis' perfidious general Mondega -- requires a duel with sabers. They're awful weapons. Chamberlain has been properly coaches and though Curtis handles the sword as well as he did in his swashbucklers, it's drama not professionalism being displayed. The moral is that when all is said and done, in destroying your enemies, you inevitably hurt innocent people. What Chamberlain's character does is a little like carpet bombing in war time.
It's a period picture of course and is visually very stylish, shot at Cinecittá in Rome, and in Liguria, a fishing port on the Mediterranean coast of Italy. The outdoor scenes are colorful, sunshine, castles, courtyard, and cold stone enhanced by the gaudy but convincing uniforms of the ship's officers and the guardsmen. Well, I've used the word "convincing" to describe the uniforms but I doubt that the French military of 1815 wore uniforms quite so tightly tailored. The guys look like ballet dancers in tights. They have no shame. Kate Nelligan, hélas, reveals nothing more than her face, which embodies both sex appeal and a guarded nurturing quality.
Chamberlain spends eight years in a dungeon at the Château D'Ifre, which can be visited by tourists. His first years were in solitary confinement but then he tunnels into the next cell and is not only taught the wisdom of the ages by the wizened old priest there, Trevor Howard, but is also told the location of a horde of treasure and jewels. The priest dies, Chamberlain manages an escape, finds the treasure, become as rich as Bill Gates, spends much of it on philanthropic enterprises, and emerges from his years of exile looking tall, distinguished, and terribly rich. He's more loathesomely handsome than before, bearded, sweeping around with his stylish silver wig, walking stick, and long black frock coat.
Returning to Paris he begins to take his revenge. He has our enemies and he destroys them with exquisite finesse. The fourth -- Tony Curtis' perfidious general Mondega -- requires a duel with sabers. They're awful weapons. Chamberlain has been properly coaches and though Curtis handles the sword as well as he did in his swashbucklers, it's drama not professionalism being displayed. The moral is that when all is said and done, in destroying your enemies, you inevitably hurt innocent people. What Chamberlain's character does is a little like carpet bombing in war time.