No surprise: The second chapter of French filmmaker Martin Bourboulon’s swashbuckling epic is every bit as entertaining as its predecessor.
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| You'd think he would learn! Milady (Eva Green) once again has D'Artagnan (François Civil) at her mercy ... although what she intends to do with him, remains an open question. |
Our heroes also thwarted an attempt to assassinate King Louis XIII (Louis Garrel).
But Bourboulon and his co-scripters — Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière — couldn’t resist adding a nasty cliffhanger. D’Artagnan, warned that his beloved Constance (Lyna Khoudri) was in danger, was just in time to see her snatched and whisked away in a black coach ... after which he was whacked on the head and left to an uncertain fate.
This second chapter picks up immediately thereafter, as D’Artagnan regains consciousness in a wood crate shared with a corpse (yuck!). He overcomes his captors and captures the Comte de Chalais (Patrick Mille), a secondary villain whose role expands in this film. D’Artagnan believes that the Comte has Constance in a prison cell, and instead is surprised to find Milady chained within.
In a nod to the old proverb — “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” — the subsequent skirmish finds D’Artagnan and Milady fighting as unlikely allies: an uneasy alliance that Bourboulon continues to exploit as the story progresses.
Both actors have fun with this prickly dynamic. Although still impetuous and reckless, Civil’s D’Artagnan no longer is as foolish or callow; he doesn’t trust Milady ... but she’s so damn seductive, that his guard frequently drops. Green, in turn, positively delights in her character’s shameless malice; she’s every inch a black widow spider waiting eagerly to ensnare and devour hapless prey.
Green’s eyes sparkle with cold, cunning evil: the pluperfect villain we love to hate.
(The writers attempt to justify Milady’s behavior by adding references to abusive treatment by men earlier in her life, but that’s an eyebrow-lift. Go with the obvious: She’s bad because she enjoys it.)
On the grander scale, events in France have worsened. Protestant separatists, emboldened by their near-successful attempt to kill King Louis, are even more determined to establish their own state with support from England’s Duke of Buckingham (Jacob Fortune-Lloyd). The king’s Catholic advisors — which include Richelieu — insist on a military reprisal, which the king’s younger brother, Gaston (Julien Frison), would be happy to lead.
Both sides want war: an outcome that King Louis hopes to prevent. Garrel’s handling of this role is more complex now; there’s no trace of the boorish, condescending and slightly foppish air he manifested in the previous film. Louis now seems a wise and thoughtful ruler, who genuinely wants what’s best for all of France ... even if he isn’t entirely sure how to accomplish that goal.
An equally large question also looms: Who, precisely, was behind the foiled assassination attempt? Richelieu seems the obvious choice, and Milady does his bidding. But who pulls the Comte de Chalais’ strings? We know there’s Somebody Else, because Constance accidentally saw that person toward the end of the previous film, which resulted in her subsequent capture.
Amid such intrigue, Bourboulon and his co-scripters add depth to D’Artagnan’s Musketeer companions. The world-weary Athos (Vincent Cassel) travels to his estate home, the Chateau de la Fère, where he’s greeted eagerly by his worried young son, Joseph (Ruben da Silva). Cassel’s eyes glaze with pain as Athos contemplates the possibility that this could be his final visit.
Athos also is burdened by painful memories of the wife who betrayed him, years earlier, before her untimely death. (Those familiar with previous versions of this story know that the poor guy has another shock coming.)
Aramis (Romain Duris) is enraged to learn that his sister, Mathilde (Camille Rutherford), is pregnant ... and that the bounder responsible has refused to marry her. The always amiable Porthos (Pio Marmaï) tries to play peacemaker, but fears that his comrade is heading for a life-threatening duel.
Further complicating matters, Porthos clearly is infatuated with Mathilde ... but, in fairness, he tends to lust after just about anybody.
All this aside, Musketeer movies rise or fall on the basis of their derring-do and swordplay, and Bourboulon once again does not disappoint. The skirmishes are lengthy, brutal and often filmed by cinematographer Nicolas Bolduc in lengthy single shots, which makes the battle choreography even more impressive.
Indeed, Bolduc’s camerawork is as exhilarating as the action, as with (for example) a tracking shot that swoops dizzily along a road, and rapidly catches up with D’Artagnan riding hell-for-leather on horseback. Bourboulon and Bolduc also deliver several awesome “spectacle” tableaus, most notably during a master shot of hundreds (thousands?) of soldiers on their way to the fortress at La Rochelle.
Bourboulon rigorously insisted on reality, employing countless extras instead of relying of CGI. It shows.
As this saga builds to its climax, the original Dumas novel is largely ignored, in favor of enhanced plot twists ... although one key detail remains: the blanc seing that Milady demands from Richelieu at one point, which excuses any action, no matter how dire, with the guarantee that “Everything I have done, or will do, I have done for the greatness of France.”
A powerful document indeed, destined to play an unexpected role at a key moment.
My one complaint: Bourboulon cheekily concludes this film on yet another cliff-hanger ... but there’s no indication of a third installment to follow! That’s just mean.
That aside, folks who love their buckle swashed will find plenty to enjoy here.
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