D’Artagnan (Logan Lerman) and his musketeer comrades Athos (Matthew Macfadyen), Porthos (Ray Stevenson) and Aramis (Luke Evans) thwart the plans of Royal Prime Minister Richelieu to usurp the King’s power.
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This kind of knowingly camp, arch tone is arguably the hardest genre to pull off, particularly for today's cynical audiences. I'm not quite sure Paul W.S. Anderson succeeds here, but it is a treat to watch Milla Jovovich and Orlando Bloom chew the scenery like it's their last supper as "Final Fantasy"-style airships float over the Versailles. Only Anderson could make classic literature feel like a video game movie.
An absurd, ridiculous, and even self-mocking retelling of the Alexander Dumas story. PWSA stages the most beautiful and intricate set pieces in the world and he shows off his humorous side in this film, which is consistently surprising and inventive on a scene by scene basis. PWSA should be viewed as a more experimental filmmaker and his mise en scene proves that he is a master filmmaker and auteur
P-Dubz reimagines "The Three Musketeers" as a mix of Shaw Brothers and Final Fantasy, along with a healthy dose of his love of booby-trapped hallways, intricate sets, and his wife (Milla Jovovich) looking hot. Unfairly described as an attempt to be like "Pirates of the Caribbean", "The Three Musketeers" doesn't commit the crime of being as boring as those movies. It's classic literature turned into trashy fun. Dig.
I'm glad they went with Three Musketeers. "Shanghai French People and the Resident Evil Lady...oh and by the way the director thinks you'll watch anything you stupid bastards" doesn't have quite the same ring.
Embodies all the criticisms levelled at Gore Verbinski's Pirates sequels—belaboured plotting; interminable shtick—but where Verbinski compensates with scale & delirious wonder, Anderson compensates with sex, fashion, symmetry & colour. But oh, those colours. Characters converge on scenery like vivid dots on a Seurat. A triumph of composition, if nothing else.
This... whatever it pretends to be, it's one of those moments in life when you feel terribly wrong with yourself, asking: is it possible that I'm actually seeing this horrid piece of "whatever-the-fuck" attempt of a movie-like filthness? That I'm actually letting valuable seconds of my life that can be more fruitful having my arse shitting on a pic of the retards who conceived this abomination? stuff like that.