Masked Men

Don’t sheathe those sabers in their scabbards just yet. Alexandre Dumas, that gifted, tirelessly prolific writer didn’t give up on his indomitable swashbucklers after The Three Musketeers, and neither should we. The Three Musketeers, written in 1844, introduced readers to d’Artagnan, a volatile youth from Gascony who, circa 1627, travels to Paris with the ambition of becoming a Musketeer of the Guard. Just one year later, 1845, Dumas penned a sequel, Twenty Years After, depicting events during the Fronde, a civil war in France which sprang up in the midst of the Franco-Spanish War (1635-1659). The novel also follows events in England, near the end of the English Civil War and the rise of Oliver Cromwell, as the Musketeers valiantly attempt to protect not only the young French monarch, Louis XIV, but England’s doomed Charles I and the reign of his successor, Charles II, as well.

Published in serialized installments from 1847 to 1850, Dumas’ The Vicomte of Bragelonne: Ten Years Later takes place between 1660 and 1667, beginning with d’Artagnan, after 35 years of loyal service, resigning his commission in disgust with the political machinations of Cardinal Mazarin. Although there are several digressions throughout the three volumes of this last of the d’Artagnan Romances, the heroes remain, of course, d’Artagnan and the original musketeers, Athos, Porthos and Aramis, who continue to find adventure, perform bold feats, grow older…and, but for one, die.

It is the final volume of this last adventure with which most people are familiar, perhaps not so much by the confounding twists and intricate interweaving of plots but by title alone - The Man in the Iron Mask.


Tradition has it that the Man in the Iron Mask was an epithet given to a French prisoner, arrested in July 1669 and subsequently held for 34 years in various prisons, including the Bastille, always in the custody of the same jailer, a prison governor named Bénigne Dauvergne de Saint-Mars (above). Louis XIV’s war minister, the Marquis de Louvois (below), initially named the prisoner as Eustache Dauger when the unfortunate soul arrived at the prison in then French-controlled Pinerolo in northwestern Italy, a location usually reserved for a handful of men regarded as embarrassments to the state.

No one was ever allowed to see the prisoner’s face, always covered by a black velvet cloth in transport and when outsiders visited. The true identity of this prisoner, who reportedly died in 1703, during the reign of Louis XIV, has been repeatedly debated, including, modestly, nearly 100 speculations.

There was, historically, one Eustache Dauger de Cavoye, who, while serving in the army, came under the influence of his commander, Armand de Gramont, comte de Guiche (above), a soldier of unquestioned valor and a notorious bisexual playboy. In April 1659, the two soldiers attended an Easter party at the castle in Roissy-en-Brie, just east of Paris, which devolved into a sordid weekend of debauchery, including a black mass.

A subsequent inquiry resulted in the jailing or exile of a number of participants, somehow excluding Dauger, who, nonetheless, ran afoul of the authorities again, in 1665, when he, along with a duke, engaged in a brawl with a young page, who was killed. Despite the two men’s argument that the fight was provoked by the drunken boy, Dauger was forced to resign his military commission.

Dauger’s name resurfaced in a link to the Affair of the Poisons, a historic scandal of the late 1670s in which several higher-ups were accused of taking part in black masses and politically motivated poisonings. King Louis XIV, when he learned that both his sister-in-law and his mistress were involved, stonewalled the investigation. The surgeon who supplied the poison was named as Auger, but historian Maurice Duvivier became convinced that Dauger, by then disinherited and in need of money, was, in fact, this man.

According to historical evidence, Eustache Dauger de Cavoye died in Paris’ Prison Saint-Lazare (above), an asylum managed my monks, where embarrassed families hid their black sheep. Surviving documents record this man’s name at the same time that the other Dauger was reportedly being taken into custody at the prison in Pinerolo, hundreds of miles to the south. A poem written by an inmate at Saint-Lazare alluded to the death of Dauger de Cavoye as a result of heavy drinking in the late 1680s, nearly two decades before the passing of the man in the mask. Which begs the question, just who the hell was the Man in the Iron Mask?

One rumor maintained that he was the son of Oliver Cromwell, the British Commonwealth’s Lord Protector who had Charles I of England beheaded in 1649. Another rumor insisted that he was the illegitimate son of England’s Charles II, who, acting as his Protestant father’s secret liaison with the Catholic French court, may have been imprisoned because of his familiarity with political affairs.

In 1771, Voltaire, the French philosopher and author of the satire Candide, asserted that the prisoner, fitted with an iron mask, was the older, illegitimate half-brother of Louis XIV, the son of Queen Anne of Austria and Cardinal Marizan, and the rightful heir to the throne. Alexandre Dumas elaborated on that premise for his final installment of the d’Artagnan Romances, transforming the iron-masked unfortunate into Philippe, the twin brother of Louis XIV.


In Dumas’ fervid imagination, Aramis (above), now a prominent Jesuit, enlists fellow musketeer Porthos in a far-fetched plot to replace Louis XIV with Philippe, whom Aramis hopes will expedite his personal ambition to become Cardinal and maybe even Pope. The King is abducted and imprisoned in the Bastille in the place of Philippe, whom Aramis has personally tutored on how to behave regally once the exchange has occurred. When France’s Superintendent of Finances, Nicolas Fouquet, learns of the subterfuge, he rescues Louis from the Bastille but allows Aramis and Porthos to escape, if temporarily, the King’s vengeance. With d’Artagnan’s help, Louis regains the throne and banishes Philippe with the edict that his face will be covered with an iron visor, which the prisoner may never raise without peril of his life.

Escorting Philippe to prison, d’Artagnan encounters his aging comrade, Athos, and his son, Raoul, who is departing for war in Algiers. Philippe succeeds in passing a silver plate to Athos, upon which he has etched, "I am the brother of the king of France - a prisoner to-day - a madman to-morrow. French gentlemen and Christians, pray to God for the soul and the reason of the son of your old rulers," but the plea comes to nothing.

D’Artagnan is commanded by Louis to arrest his friends Aramis and Porthos but resigns and is himself arrested when an order calls for the immediate execution of prisoners, even upon surrendering. The fugitive Porthos is crushed to death by boulders in an avalanche after an explosion, while Aramis manages to escape aboard a ship bound for Spain. Athos succumbs to infirmity and depression, dying of a broken heart moments before news is delivered of his son’s death in combat.

D’Artagnan reconciles with Louis and is reinstated, as Aramis becomes the Spanish ambassador to France, ensuring Spain’s neutrality in France’s military campaign against the United Provinces. Leading an attack in that conflict, d’Artagnan, almost 60 years old, is mortally wounded, shortly after receiving a letter informing him of his lifelong goal of appointment to Marshal of France. The last of the d’Artagnan Romances ends with his dying words: "Athos, Porthos, au revoir! Aramis, adieu forever!"

In the meantime, Louis has become a wise, powerful and sympathetic ruler, and Dumas makes no more mention of poor, friendless Philippe. Hardly the stuff of satisfactory cinema, which is probably why filmmakers have attempted to improve upon that outcome ever since.

The Italians produced a silent film version, "The Iron Mask" (above), in 1909, followed in 1923 by the German production "Der Mann mit der eisernen Maske."

In 1929, eight years after starring as d’Artagnan in "The Three Musketeers," the inimitable Douglas Fairbanks reprised the role for "The Iron Mask." This would be the iconic swashbuckler’s final silent film, although the production, as initially released, featured a pair of rare, talking sequences (with Fairbanks delivering a spoken-word introduction and intermission), along with sound effects, an original music score and some color-tinted scenes.

Director Allan Dwan had worked with Fairbanks on 1917’s "A Modern Musketeer" (above) about a young man stuck in a small Kansas town who dreams of the adventures of the Three Musketeers. Dwan’s half-century career included 1927’s "Robin Hood," starring Fairbanks and Alan Hale Sr., 1939’s "Heidi," with Shirley Temple, and 1949’s "Sands of Iwo Jima," starring John Wayne, not to mention the "musical comedy version" of "The Three Musketeers" in 1939, featuring Don Ameche and the Ritz Brothers.

In "The Iron Mask," the Comte de Rochefort plots to use the hidden-away twin, Philippe, as his puppet-king and abducts Louis XIV, imprisoning him in the iron mask. It is up to d’Artagnan to reunite his Musketeer brethren and rescue the rightful King. (It was probably not intentionally humorous, but the filmmakers show d’Artagnan, Athos, Porthos and Aramis sharing the same bed - not unlike the comedy shorts of Laurel & Hardy and the Three Stooges - the headboard of which is engraved with the French phrase for "One for All, All for One.")

Produced and co-scripted by Fairbanks, "The Iron Mask," in contrast to the lighthearted atmosphere and bouncy antics of its predecessor, 1921"s "The Three Musketeers," takes some melancholy turns, including the somber demise of d’Artagnan - the only motion picture in which Fairbanks died onscreen - particularly touching as this was the 46-year-old star’s farewell to silent cinema.

The movie’s swordplay was directed by Belgian fencing master Fred Cavens, who put Fairbanks through his dueling paces in "The Mask of Zorro," "Robin Hood" and "The Black Pirate" and subsequently worked with Errol Flynn on "Captain Blood," "The Adventures of Robin Hood" and "The Sea Hawk," and Tyrone Power on "The Mask of Zorro" and "The Black Swan." (Below, Fred Cavens coaches an already accomplished fencer, Basil Rathbone.)



Cavens brought a formal technique and dignified grace to screen fencing, unlike the later (and probably more realistic) roughhouse brawling that swordsman William Hobbs choreographed in director Richard Lester’s "The Three Musketeers" and "The Four Musketeers" in the 1970s. Cavens’ many credits also include 1950’s "Cyrano de Bergerac," 1952’s "At Sword’s Point" (the fanciful adventures of the offspring of d’Artagnan and the Three Musketeers), and 1939’s "The Man in the Iron Mask."

The 1939 version of "The Man in the Iron Mask," directed with his stylish flair for moody melodrama by James Whale (of "Frankenstein," "The Invisible Man" and "The Bride of Frankenstein" fame), differs significantly from the novel, depicting Louis XIV as a pitiless tyrant while his twin, Philippe, is groomed as the embodiment of virtue by d’Artagnan and his three comrades. Louis imprisons his twin in the Bastille, locking him in an iron mask. As recounted by author George MacDonald Fraser in The Hollywood History of the World, "The Musketeers rescue their protégé, imprison Louis in his place, and Philippe is beginning a liberal reign when Louis escapes, chases and swordplay ensue. Louis is drowned, mask and all, the Musketeers die gloriously, and Philippe…becomes permanent King of France." Fraser noted, "The iron mask itself is a thing of nightmare, especially in one grim shot of the enthroned figure, a cloak about its shoulders, the hideous metal face shining dimly in the shadows. Darth Vader never looked so horrific."

Warren William, who played d’Artagnan, holds a place in show business trivia as the first actor to portray novelist Erle Stanley Gardner’s peerless defense attorney Perry Mason in four big-screen mysteries. William’s costars included Joan Bennett as Princess Maria Theresa, Alan Hale Sr. as Porthos and Louis Hayward (above) in the dual roles of Louis XIV and Philippe. ("The Man in the Iron Mask" also marked the screen debut of Peter Cushing.)

Thirteen years later, Louis Hayward, who also starred in two spin-offs of Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, portrayed d’Artagnan in "Lady in the Iron Mask" (1952), costarring Patricia Medina, an exotic looking starlet who appeared alongside Hayward in "The Lady and the Bandit" and "Captain Pirate."


A genuine curio of cinema obscura, "Lady in the Iron Mask" is not only seemingly unavailable on either DVD or Blu-ray, but the film’s entry in the International Movie Database website is remarkably devoid of the usual array of user comments. Thankfully, we unearthed a timely piece by Bosley Crowther, the late critic for The New York Times who, for 27 years, provided insightful, often acerbically stinging reviews of current films. Because Mr. Crowther had his own, distinctive voice, we defer to his inimitable comments:

Two factors fitfully distinguish "Lady in the Iron Mask" from the long string of second- and third-rate re-works of the fable of the Three Musketeers that have…sword-slashed their way onto the screen. The first is the ferrous facial covering that is worn, with considerable discontent, by the non-cooperative princess who has been banished by a villainous duke to a dungeon cell - from which, of course, she is rescued by D’Artagnan and his pals.

This distinctive facial concealment is not just the usual old iron mask, such as previous imprisoned unfortunates in sword-and-plume films have been known to wear. This one is a form-fitting face-guard, with molded cheeks and painted lips…Students of torture devices will no doubt be interested to note that (the producers) have discovered that the French used cosmetics on their masks.

The second distinction of this picture…is the unholy racket of the music that Dimitri Tiomkin has tossed in. Apparently Mr. Tiomkin, when he saw the picture in the rough, decided that something was demanded to distract attention from the screen…

This is not too unfortunate, for "Lady in the Iron Mask" is not one of those pictures that a person cannot afford to miss. Indeed, unless you’re interested in horses and Pier 4 fighting, you might stay home…For racing about on horses and engaging in fantastic brawls is just about all the costumed gentlemen in this Technicolor pulp fiction do.

Movie-goers know the pattern: a beautiful princess locked in a cell, her twin sister brought out of hiding to wed the arrogant Philip of Spain. "The fate of Frawnce hangs in the balance!" an anxious voice proclaims. Enter swashbuckling Louis Hayward and three Hollywood musketeers! And, for an hour and nineteen minutes, hoofs clatters, heads bump, swords ring - and the music of Mr. Tiomkin blasts the audience’s ears.

It is distressing to note that Mr. Hayward, who is an old hand at this sort of thing, is - in spite of the considerable activity demanded of him - putting on weight. Getting a little paunchy for a romantic swordsman, we fear. It is also a little distressing to find that Patricia Medina, though cast in twin roles, has little to do except hang on while the picture is bumping around the curves…She herself has a few curves to show. As for the Three Musketeers, Steve Brodie, Alan Hale Jr. and Judd Holdren act like fellows from down at the corner drugstore. Check it off as another fancy-dress brawl.

There is, incidentally, a 1998 pornographic direct-to-video movie called "Lady in the Iron Mask" (above), but the less said here, the better.

In 1962, Jean Marais, the handsomely charismatic star of the acclaimed and timeless French version of "Beauty and the Beast" (1946) who went on to appear in several swashbuckling adventures, more often than not performing his own stunts, portrayed d’Artagnan in the rollicking "La Masque de Fer" (above), costarring international beauties Sylva Koscina (below), the bride of muscleman Steve Reeves in "Hercules" and "Hercules Unchained"...

...and Claudine Auger (below), future Bond girl "Domino" in "Thunderball."



The 1977 made-for-TV production of "The Man in the Iron Mask" featured Richard Chamberlain in the dual role of the ignoble Louis and the virtuous Philippe. Chamberlain had previously starred in a lush, small-screen remake of Dumas’ "The Count of Monte Cristo," and the actor, who had become a teen idol in the title role of the 1960s TV series "Dr. Kildare," was on the verge of enjoying newfound success as the "King of the Miniseries," with starring roles in "Centennial," "Shogun" and "The Thorn Birds."

The executive producer of television’s "The Man in the Iron Mask" (as well as the aforementioned "The Count of Monte Cristo"), Norman Rosemont, was responsible for a number of high-class, literate TV movies from the 1970s into the 1980s, based on such eminent fiction as Ivanhoe, Dumas’ The Corsican Brothers, A Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations, Les Miserables, Captains Courageous, The Four Feathers and the novel The Lady of the Camellias ("Camille") by Dumas’ son, Alexandre Dumas, fils. The casts were resplendent with formidable talent, including Anthony Andrews, Tony Curtis, Peter Cushing, Denholm Elliott, Colin Firth, John Gielgud, Olivia Hussey, Richard Jordan, Ben Kingsley, Karl Malden, James Mason, Sarah Miles, Robert Morley, Sam Neill, Anthony Perkins, Donald Pleasence, Anthony Quayle, Greta Scacchi and Michael York.

Sharing some plot similarities with the 1939 remake of "The Man in the Iron Mask," the made-for-TV version likewise paints a vibrant portrait of Fouquet, Louis XIV’s financial minister, as the villain of the piece, and no actor less than Patrick McGoohan - later so memorable as the chilling warden with ice water in his veins in "Escape from Alcatraz" and as England’s intolerant tyrant Edward I in "Braveheart" - could bring such style to such a loathsome nemesis (above).
The supporting cast boasts Jenny Agutter (below), Ian Holm, Ralph Richardson and Vivien Merchant. Director Mike Newell would go on to direct such popular fare as "Four Weddings and a Funeral," "Donnie Brasco," "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" and "Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time."


While economizing the script by condensing the Musketeers’ presence into the singular d’Artagnan (played by an aging but agelessly suave Louis Jourdan), the filmmakers spared no expense for lavish costuming and authentic locations, including the historical Fouquet’s actual chateau at Vaux-le-Vicomte (left) and the Palace of Fontainebleau (right).

This unique blend of economy and extravagance elegantly captured the essence of Dumas’ fiction, and it would take filmmakers another two decades to elaborate and improve upon the original author’s sense of elan, intrigue and brotherhood.

A former student of divinity, Randall Wallace has carried over his faith-based sensibilities into his career as a screenwriter and director, beginning with his stirring script for Mel Gibson’s historical epic "Braveheart" in 1995. He worked with Gibson again in 2002, as the screenwriter and director of the underrated Vietnam War drama "We Were Soldiers." Wallace also wrote the screenplay for 2001’s "Pearl Harbor" and directed 2010’s acclaimed "Secretariat."


Wallace made his debut as director with the 1998 remake of "The Man in the Iron Mask," which he also scripted, revitalizing the story with a new passion and refreshing twists. In Dumas’ original tale, although Louis XIV’s twin, Philippe, is initially depicted as the more sympathetic of the two, the plot to replace the one with the other fails, and it is actually Louis who emerges as the mature, intelligent and rightful King. The 1929 silent version starring Douglas Fairbanks Sr., "The Iron Mask," followed suit in its portrait of the King as a sympathetic figure and relegating Philippe to a pawn in a potential coup foiled by d’Artagnan and the Three Musketeers.

Perhaps more so than the 1939 remake and the 1977 TV movie, Wallace’s 1998 version painted a very unflattering portrait of young Louis XIV, depicting him as an arrogant lout, bankrupting his country and starving the peasants in Paris with his policies of waging unpopular wars while indulging in hedonistic pursuits of various women. The casting of Leonardo DiCaprio in the dual roles came on the heels of the completion of shooting "Titanic," so full-tilt DiCaprio-Mania had not yet been launched. Subsequently, his performance, untainted by super-stardom, strikes us as fresh and unaffected, both as the spoiled Louis and as the naïve Philippe.

The genuine casting coup came with the once-in-a-lifetime ensemble portraying d’Artagnan and the three musketeers in their brooding, sunset years. Jeremy Irons (Best Actor Oscar winner for his role as Claus von Bulow in 1990’s "Reversal of Fortune") portrays Aramis as a secretive Jesuit priest. Gerard Depardieu (a hulking presence of French cinema noted for his roles in 1986’s "Jean de Florette" and 1990’s "Cyrano de Bergerac") plays Porthos as a frequent patron of Parisian brothels. The ever protean John Malkovich (unforgettable as the chameleonic assassin in 1993’s "In the Line of Fire") appears as Athos, the father of a young soldier who unfortunately becomes a romantic rival of the King.

"The three musketeers are cast with big names," Roger Ebert noted in his review, "but to my surprise the picture is stolen by Gabriel Byrne (as d’Artagnan), who has the most charisma and is the most convincing." Byrne is probably best known for his role as the ill-fated Keaton in 1995’s "The Usual Suspects" and as Dr. Weston in the HBO drama "In Treatment." Byrne’s scenes with Anne Parillaud, the actress who starred in the original French thriller "La Femme Nikita" and here portrays Queen Anne, are, according to Ebert, "some of the best in the movie."










As indelibly flamboyant as Oliver Reed, Richard Chamberlain, Frank Finlay and Michael York were as the roughhousing Musketeers in the 1970s, John Malkovich, Jeremy Irons, Gerard Depardieu and Gabriel Byrne are equally memorable as more somber, world-weary versions of their former selves in "The Man in the Iron Mask," but not without their own moments of flamboyant roughhousing. (Not coincidentally, fight director William Hobbs, who choreographed the swordplay in the ‘70s films, performed the same task in this production.)

There is a scene near the end of the film when d’Artagnan and his fellow musketeers, along with Philippe, are trapped in a narrow corridor of the Bastille prison by an overwhelming force of the King’s guards. The musketeers, all for one, charge the front line. In awe of this display of uncommon valor, the soldiers shut their eyes as they fire their muskets. When the powder smoke clears, the musketeers remain standing. It is a rousing crowd-pleaser, a singular moment that was not imagined by author Alexandre Dumas but should have been.

To paraphrase the last line Dumas wrote in the last volume of the d’Artagnan Romances, "Athos, Porthos, d’Artagnan, au revoir! Aramis, adieu forever!"