Swashbucklers

The Musketeers 2014

Plumed hat—check.

Boots—check.

Cloak—check.

Sword—check.

Pistol—check.

Open sea—

Open sea?? Bah. Forget pirates. When my swash wants buckling, give me the King’s Musketeers.

My fondness for the elite among Louis XIII’s military began with Richard Lester’s movie version in the 1970s. I saw The Four Musketeers something like 14 times because my then best friend was crazy nuts for the actor who played Aramis. Subsequently, I fell for Michael York, who played d’Artagnan (but that’s another story). During the course of flowering hormones, I delved into the Dumas novels and discovered a world that I couldn’t imagine had existed, a world without modern convenience, where hats were plumed and pistols played backup to rapiers. The Musketeers were a joyride in writing and on film. My imagination never recovered.

Though other attempts have been made, I’ve stayed true to the Lester films. Thanks to his direction, and to George MacDonald Fraser’s scripts, they still number among the best movies I’ve ever seen, and feature what remains one of my favourite lines of dialogue—Porthos playing cards with Aramis and lamenting that, “Either your priestly intentions have got all the saints on your side, or you’re cheating.”

Whether or not Aramis seriously intended to join the priesthood I don’t recall, though the theme continued via Jeremy Irons in The Man in the Iron Mask some thirty years later. One thing’s for sure: Aramis is the most romantic in the group. I’ve always been partial to d’Artagnan because of Yorkie, but these days it’s hard to choose a favourite.

The Musketeers are back, this time in a TV series produced by the BBC. Ter an I caught it this spring on Showcase and, yup, we got hooked. It’s the best spin on the legend since the Lester films 40 years ago; the writing is quick, the delivery is quicker and the actors playing the iconic foursome have each made his character his own. Particularly good is Tom Burke as Athos, who was the least appealing Musketeer in my teens, but now that I’m older, has assumed the perilous allure of dark water—a deceptive stillness that could all too easily pull me beyond my depth. But truly, the whole cast is brilliant for bringing the characters to such vivid life that there are no boring moments.

Once again, I am inspired by a good story peopled by distinct and unique individuals set in a time that feels like home. I would dearly love to pay homage to my heroes, but how does one write a good swashbuckler without it turning into a hokey bodice-ripper?

As with all good stories, it starts with a character …