The Return of the Musketeers

Given the passing of Roy Kinnear during filming, following a heart attack after he fell from a horse, it's understandable that The Return of the Musketeers is very much a passionless slog. Richard Lester's film largely abandons the omniscient perspective taken in previous instalments, that saw overdressed figures battering their way across lavishly appointed sets complete with ADR grumbles, to hand over proceedings almost completely to Michael York's D'Artagnan. The now-ageing lieutenant is given a voiceover to accompany his misfiring adventures, a move that further diminishes the ironic framing that accentuated Lester's previous entries. We are no longer observing a rock star swordfighter who professes undying love for his kidnapped mistress while sleeping with any woman who'll have him. Now he's telling his own story, oblivious to his failings. Comedy and action are a difficult mix at the best of times, each having different tonal objectives that require a delicate, even masterful, touch to balance. Lester previously succeeded through a knowing incongruity: whichever element veered into the absurd - be that the character's actions or the situations they found themselves in - was contrasted with a palpable sense of physical danger. Here, nothing is presented as serious (and nothing can be taken seriously anyway) so the film becomes joyless noise. If Return has an ace up its sleeve though, it's a sozzled-looking Oliver Reed as Athos. Although rarely deployed, the actor is instantly able to confer weight and meaning on every trifle he utters.