BoumTAC

The Count of Monte-Cristo: A Comparison Between the Book and the Film

Published on July 27, 2025

After watching the film, which I absolutely loved, I had planned to read the novel this summer—quite an undertaking since it was 1,400 pages in its paperback edition.

I'm going to approach this differently from other analyses I've written for other novels. I'll discuss the differences between the book and the film. They are numerous, as the book is very long and dense, so it had to be adapted to fit into a 3-hour film. Since there are so many differences, I'll only discuss those I find relevant.

Honor and Virtues

It's always striking to read an old novel. Ethics were much more developed back then—today they're nonexistent. Honor, courage, respect—these are vanished values. The casual "yo dude, you know" didn't exist in the 19th century. Words had value; they were a commitment.

I always find it admirable when reading old texts to rediscover this notion of honor and dignity.

Before the internet, electronic signatures, secure instant messaging, and surveillance cameras, there was no way to ensure the stability of the world. People had to be honest.

If people started saying "yeah but that wasn't me, I didn't really say that, I didn't sign or I changed my name," you had to be ready to pay the price for false statements. They were uncompromising about these values. Without them, nothing could function.

Albert de Morcerf

The most striking example is the duel between Albert and the Count of Monte-Cristo in the novel, which is completely different from the one in the film. Albert challenges the Count to defend his father's honor—you couldn't tarnish a relative's image without facing consequences. In the original work, the duel doesn't take place because Mercedes explains to her son who the Count really is and who his father really is. Albert understands the pain and injustice suffered by Edmond Dantès and realizes his father is a scoundrel. He apologizes to the Count, who accepts—Dantès is impressed by the young man's bravery. Albert then rejects his father and refuses his fortune. He leaves with his mother Mercedes with nothing, wishing to no longer be associated with his father and wanting to build himself from scratch—what courage! This is a drastic change in the psychology of the Count of Monte-Cristo. He is deeply moved by young Albert's bravery, who has done nothing to deserve all the misfortunes befalling him. It's one of my favorite moments in the novel—both recognize each other's quality and nobility of soul.

This moment was completely changed in the film. Our current conception of the world doesn't allow us to understand these values. It's replaced by a bogus love story between Albert and Haydée.

Morrel

In the novel, shipowner Morrel does everything possible to save Dantès when he's imprisoned—he's actually the only one to do so. For these acts, Dantès remains eternally faithful to him and to his son Maximilien until the end of the novel. Maximilien is the only character to emerge "victorious" from all these adventures.

Dantès saves old Morrel from bankruptcy and cancels his revenge on Villefort to save son Maximilien's love for Valentine. Maximilien isn't present in the film even though he's one of the most important characters. It's a shame.

This notion of honor and dignity wasn't conveyed at all in the film. It's something impossible for today's viewer to understand. It's interesting to note this crucial difference. It's something we deeply lack. The last films where honor, dignity, and bravery were highlighted, like Gladiator or The Lord of the Rings, are already more than 20 years old. Since then, there's been nothing.

The Aristocracy

A good third of the novel is devoted to the life of Parisian aristocrats—it's actually quite boring. These are rich people who don't work, alternating between dinners, opera outings, society evenings, and negotiations between great families to arrange marriages. The characters do have professions (bankers, prosecutors, journalist) but they don't work—they're always at home. I think this is typical of Parisian high society of the time (and still today)—rich people who do nothing.

This is a great contrast with British literature of the time, like Dickens. In his works, the wealthy (bankers, lawyers, businessmen) actually worked—and a lot—they were in their offices all day, not at society dinners arranging marriages.

The Journalist

A small anecdote I find relevant to discuss quickly. In the novel, one of the characters is a journalist and, like today, he's a demigod. The journalist knows all the great Parisian personalities, is invited to the Opera in the best box—he has all the power. Like today, the journalist is considered elite—typically French.

Interest Rates

This is a small detail but I found it amusing. In the novel, interest rates are high: minimum 5% and often more than 10%. I found this intriguing because it's a world before our fictitious 2% rates. Lending at 2% makes no sense; the risk is far too high for the lender, the margin too small to compensate for the risk of those who won't be able to repay. It was a world still based on gold, preceding our modern inflations.

Moreover, another difference in the film: the sums are much larger. Danglars mentions the sum of 500 million and his wealth is estimated at 200 million. This is a necessary adaptation to the modern world to make the amounts coherent to the viewer's eyes. In the novel, Danglars' fortune is estimated at 20 million and the discussed sums revolve around a million—these amounts would have seemed ridiculous today.

Woke Adaptations

The Relationship with Haydée

In the novel, Haydée is in love with the Count of Monte-Cristo. She respects him, unlike in the film adaptation. In the novel, the Count ends up happy with Haydée; he has finally found love. In the film, he ends up alone and sad, and Haydée leaves him for Albert.

This is a deliberate change; an age difference like this would be frowned upon today. It could have been mitigated by making Haydée a bit older and the Count a bit younger. It's also modern jealousy from the woke movement. The Count represents a broken man who rose again. He's an intelligent, cunning man who always achieves his goals. They consciously altered this fact by making him alone at the end of the film. I would have liked to see the Count happy at the end of the film, leaving with Haydée.

The Monarchy-Napoleon Conflict

The novel takes place after Napoleon's deposition. It's a conflict between supporters of the monarchy and supporters of the Emperor. The work takes more of Napoleon's side than that of the corrupt aristocrats of the monarchy, who remind us of our modern elites, so much so that the conflict is almost absent from the film. Our elites like Dumas' work, but only certain aspects—they don't like being associated with the villains.

In the film, it's Villefort's sister, saved from drowning by Dantès, who transmits a message from the Emperor. She doesn't exist in the novel; it's the ship's captain who transmits this letter (the captain in the book is another character absent from the film—it's not Danglars).

When you need to remove a noble and virtuous character like Maximilien Morrel, that's normal—it's an adaptation.

When you need to create a badass resistance rebel character, there they put a woman.

In the novel, this letter is intended for a Napoleonic agent named Noirtier; he's prosecutor Villefort's father—he doesn't exist in the film.

In the work, Noirtier represents the rock-solid old-school grandfather—the infallible pillar of the family who takes care of his granddaughter Valentine (another virtuous character absent from the film—they removed all the honorable characters).

Noirtier is the intelligent man who discovers who in the family is poisoning. He's a brilliant man who, despite his age and disability, fights against injustices.

Bravery, honor, justice are values that don't please wokes much. I think it was deliberate to have removed Noirtier to replace him with a badass but useless woman.

Slavery

Except for Haydée, who was sold as a slave, slavery is never mentioned in the work. The shipowners trade with the Middle East and India.

In the film, to feel superior to the characters, they felt obligated to add that the trade was transatlantic slave trade when it was spice trade with India. A pure invention without interest.

Moreover, it's not even the same period; the story takes place in the 1830s. England had banned the slave trade in 1832 and was campaigning in the Atlantic against slave ships.

Albert the Parisian Hipster

In the novel, Albert is the solid young viscount who had the misfortune of being a coward's son. In the film, he's been replaced by a fragile little Parisian hipster with bad hair. It's a shame to have tarnished the image of one of the novel's noblest characters.

The Absence of Religion

The story of the Count of Monte-Cristo is the story of a man who substitutes himself for God to reward the deserving and punish the wicked. He describes himself as God's invisible hand. In the novel, he really has an unreal, mystical side. He's a man resurrected to accomplish the Almighty's justice.

Tell the angel who will watch over your life, Morrel, to pray sometimes for a man who, like Satan, believed himself for an instant equal to God, and who recognized, with all the humility of a Christian, that in God's hands alone are supreme power and infinite wisdom. These prayers will perhaps soften the remorse he carries in the depths of his heart.

This was completely forgotten in the film. This is the work's moral: one cannot substitute oneself for God—only misfortune will come of it. One must let providence take its course.

I was disappointed that they omitted showing this aspect of the work out of ideology.

The Crappy Fight

At the end of the film, they added a sword fight between Fernand and the Count of Monte-Cristo. Not only did this fight not exist in the novel since Fernand killed himself out of shame following the discovery of his crimes, but the fight is also terrible. The Count is a demigod, he's the invisible hand—a genius who knows everything, has foreseen everything, and masters all arts—literally a superhero.

There in the film, he gets beaten up by Fernand and barely avoids death by beating him at the last second. It's a shame to have tarnished the character's image like this.

The Absence of Misfortune for Mercedes

In the novel, Mercedes fully suffers the consequences of Dantès' revenge. She loses everything and finds herself alone and without resources; even her son ends up leaving. This is one of the novel's lessons: the collateral victims of revenge. They greatly mitigated these facts in the film, thus reducing the lessons one can draw from the work.

No Happy Ending

Wokes don't like the consequences of their actions and others being happy. In the novel, Dantès leaves happy with Haydée, finally knowing love and leaving his fortune to Maximilien and Valentine. In the film, he leaves alone on his boat with no one left. Haydée having abandoned him to leave with Albert.

I find it a shame to have changed the scenario. The final moral being "Wait and hope," the Count had finally found hope again. In the film, he lost it...

Conclusion

I first watched the film then read the novel. I greatly appreciated both, including the film—it's good to finally have a good French film. I completely understand adapting the story to fit into a 3-hour film, but I find it a shame that they changed certain essential aspects of the work out of ideology.