So, I don’t know if anyone’s told Paul W.S. Anderson, but the reason The Three Musketeers is an immortal story is not because there were dirigibles, cross-bowed ninjas, and a bungee jumping Milady involved:
It’s because 17th century France was actually a reasonably interesting place, and the real Comte d’Artagnan, Charles Ogier de Batz de Castelmore, was actually a reasonably interesting person. And that doesn’t even take into account Cardinal Richelieu. I’m sort of surprised Showtime hasn’t knocked off The Three Musketeers and Aldous Huxley’s Grey Eminence and done a saucy behind-the-scenes look at the old Cardinal.
In any case, when you’ve made the 1993 adaptation of The Three Musketeers starring Keifer Sutherland, Oliver Platt (who declares at one point: “If you’re to be a true Musketeer, boy, you must excel at the manyly art of wenching.”), Charlie Sheen, and Chris O’Donnell look dignified, you’ve really accomplished something.
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