The word is that this film takes material from five different novels. I finished reading the first one about five minutes before the director and cast members arrived for the Toronto International Film Festival Screening, and was grateful to have done so because the book filled in both character development and plot information that enriched what I saw on the screen. The first novel was dispensed with (much truncated) in about the first twenty minutes of the film, but was helpful for understanding a lot of what followed.
Much of what makes the novel delightful would be unfilmable-- it constantly takes side-trips on every subject tangential to the plot, characters, and historical period-- and the reader comes to realize that there isn't nearly enough plot in the one book to fill out an adventure film. So the screenplay writer had no choice but to expand his sources-- however, in "Alatriste" he has bitten off more than one film can successfully chew. The film takes pains to display historically accurate 17th century Spanish fashion (making brilliant use of Golden Age paintings, by Velasquez and others), but with the unfortunate result that many bearded men in black or dark leathers are introduced, who become difficult to distinguish-- not enough time has been allowed to develop their identities. Compression of material also leaves certain characters' motives (Angelica) and certain scenes (Philip IV hunting) quite inexplicable.
That having been said, the film can still be enjoyed on many levels, and the lead character is an attractive creation, well-realized by Viggo Mortensen, whose gruff-voiced and grizzled middle-aged Alatriste transforms the matinée-idol qualities of his actual appearance. Spaniards seem to find his Argentinian accent ludicrous, a criticism entirely lost on the rest of us, for whom it is no obstacle to appreciation. Their further comment that Mortensen's acting is vocally somewhat "one-note" (perhaps due to the accent struggle) is not totally off the mark.
In general, the atmosphere, characters, and plot of this film are much darker than one might expect from a swashbuckling period piece-- not just in the "grit and grime" sense, but in the inescapable melancholy and the consequences of vice. But I agree with one commentator who notes that the setting is unrepresentative of Golden Age Madrid, insofar as the city is almost all dark alleys-- no colorful and bustling open spaces or public pageantry, which would have been appropriate not only for contrast and accuracy but as an avenue to further develop the nature of the decadence of the age. Spain is shown to be in cultural free-fall from such vices as greed, territorial aggression, and a cheapness of human life manifested in an astounding level of bellicosity at the most trivial provocation. It would have served the film to also show the kind of lavish and beautiful excesses, such as public festivals that even the poor and exploited revel in, which are part of what seduces and deludes a society into collapse.
I gather that the Alatriste books are wildly popular in Spain, and thus the Spanish audience will probably be at an advantage in both following the movie's plot and appreciating its historical and artistic references. (Where did they find that modern-day Habsburg to play Philip IV? incredible!) But they may also be disappointed at how much of the charm of author Arturo Perez-Reverte's discursive style has been sacrificed, in the cause of a film which is plagued with spasms of incoherence. However, it remains a work which is as thoughtful as it is entertaining-- go and see it, and enjoy.
Much of what makes the novel delightful would be unfilmable-- it constantly takes side-trips on every subject tangential to the plot, characters, and historical period-- and the reader comes to realize that there isn't nearly enough plot in the one book to fill out an adventure film. So the screenplay writer had no choice but to expand his sources-- however, in "Alatriste" he has bitten off more than one film can successfully chew. The film takes pains to display historically accurate 17th century Spanish fashion (making brilliant use of Golden Age paintings, by Velasquez and others), but with the unfortunate result that many bearded men in black or dark leathers are introduced, who become difficult to distinguish-- not enough time has been allowed to develop their identities. Compression of material also leaves certain characters' motives (Angelica) and certain scenes (Philip IV hunting) quite inexplicable.
That having been said, the film can still be enjoyed on many levels, and the lead character is an attractive creation, well-realized by Viggo Mortensen, whose gruff-voiced and grizzled middle-aged Alatriste transforms the matinée-idol qualities of his actual appearance. Spaniards seem to find his Argentinian accent ludicrous, a criticism entirely lost on the rest of us, for whom it is no obstacle to appreciation. Their further comment that Mortensen's acting is vocally somewhat "one-note" (perhaps due to the accent struggle) is not totally off the mark.
In general, the atmosphere, characters, and plot of this film are much darker than one might expect from a swashbuckling period piece-- not just in the "grit and grime" sense, but in the inescapable melancholy and the consequences of vice. But I agree with one commentator who notes that the setting is unrepresentative of Golden Age Madrid, insofar as the city is almost all dark alleys-- no colorful and bustling open spaces or public pageantry, which would have been appropriate not only for contrast and accuracy but as an avenue to further develop the nature of the decadence of the age. Spain is shown to be in cultural free-fall from such vices as greed, territorial aggression, and a cheapness of human life manifested in an astounding level of bellicosity at the most trivial provocation. It would have served the film to also show the kind of lavish and beautiful excesses, such as public festivals that even the poor and exploited revel in, which are part of what seduces and deludes a society into collapse.
I gather that the Alatriste books are wildly popular in Spain, and thus the Spanish audience will probably be at an advantage in both following the movie's plot and appreciating its historical and artistic references. (Where did they find that modern-day Habsburg to play Philip IV? incredible!) But they may also be disappointed at how much of the charm of author Arturo Perez-Reverte's discursive style has been sacrificed, in the cause of a film which is plagued with spasms of incoherence. However, it remains a work which is as thoughtful as it is entertaining-- go and see it, and enjoy.