Another solid episode, which again is pretty deft in setting a Musketeer-centric standalone A-plot next to a more serialized ensemble B-plot; in this case separating Aramis from the boys to deal with this episode's guest star, and having Athos, Porthos and D'artagnan cope with threats against the Spanish Ambassador.
It all melds together quite nicely; the B-plot is informed by the A-plot (Emilie's preaching puts the Spanish at risk) and the women are utilized very well: Constance, Queen Anne and Milady are all active participants in how the plot unfolds.
Of course, there's still not a lot of emphasis on the central bromance, for it would seem that only one Musketeer is allowed to stand in the spotlight at a time – but then, I'm not solely in it for the bromance (wow, why does that sound so familiar?)
Emilie is a poor peasant girl from the French countryside who receives visions from God, instructing her to raise an army against the Spanish King. Basically she's a Joan of Arc Expy (they even namedrop the famous saint) but her preaching is having an adverse effect on the Spanish population in Paris.
The Musketeers are sent in to investigate this prophet, but the crowd is a little rowdy and so Aramis is sent in by himself after the cover of darkness. Emilie might be stirring up peasants for mass-slaughter, but she seems a pretty sweet girl, and whether through Aramis's charm or guile (or dreamy eyes), he manages to secure her trust.
Dear Lord, this is a beautiful man. |
There is an interesting power dynamic going on between Emilie and her mother Josette – though the latter seems to be in supportive Mama Bear mode, there's enough naivety about Emilie that suggests there's no way she's managing this peasant army all by herself.
Aramis was the obvious choice to infiltrate her camp; not only does he know more about the faith Emilie is espousing, but he's also the only one open to the possibility that she's for real. Unfortunately, he's also something of a hypocrite, stating "I will not destroy an innocent woman's reputation" when he's in the middle of screwing the dauphin's nanny in the attempt to get close to his illegitimate son that he fathered with the Queen who would be executed for treason if anyone knew what she had done.
Yeah, you really can't escape the initial "women = bonkers, men = rational creatures who march in to shut things down" subtext, though it's assuaged a little with the entrance of Anne and Constance. Of course, as plans go, "walk into hostile territory in disguise and hope to talk down the religious fanatic intent on invading your country" is right up there with "kidnap the dauphin and take him to a laundry", but hey – they're trying.
Did not think this through. |
There's an interesting dynamic going on: Emilie loves the King, her people hate the Spanish Queen, Anne describes Emilie's preaching as "a gospel of hatred", and yet Emilie herself has a sweet nature. By the time the two women are face-to-face (with Aramis thinking "oh shit" in the corner), there's little doubt that the two women have a lot in common, but stand on opposite sides of the fence. I never felt Anne was in any danger from Emilie specifically, and their overnight stay in her tent gives Constance a chance to try some of the broth (that was given to Emilie) and have a terrible nightmare as a result.
Aramis connects the dots, Constance calls in the cute physician, and he confirms that the broth is spiked. Turns out her mother is giving her daughter magic mushrooms to induce visions from God. Where to start with this one? It's unclear how Josette manages to control the dreams that lead Emilie to declare the Spanish King is the Antichrist (she could just have easily insisted that God wanted her to start a dancing school for frogs), and her motivation is rather dodgy as well. Josette has no real grudge against the Spanish, she just wanted her daughter to be a special snowflake. And you thought the mothers on Stage Mums were a nightmare.
"I drugged you because I love you!" |
But whatever, the mystery is solved and Emilie is taken to the palace for a detox. In a nice touch, Athos is called in as someone who has "experience in these matters." Are they talking about betrayal or addiction? Probably both. But it's a great sequence in which he and Constance nurse Emilie through her withdrawal symptoms – I appreciate that the writers allow Constance to have relationships with the Musketeers that aren't D'artagnan. This time around, I'm pretty sure she got more screen-time with Aramis and Athos than she did with D'artagnan.
Over in the B-plot, the Musketeers have to escort the Spanish Ambassador to a carriage so he can return back to Spain – which is the equivalent of retiring in three days, or in displaying a photograph of your loved ones. Yeah, he's a goner.
Thanks to Rochefort getting the dirt on Milady, the Spanish Ambassador doesn't get far, and Treville's subsequent expression is priceless:
We went and fucked up again! |
Rochefort makes his intentions crystal clear this episode: that he plans to dispose of the King and marry the Queen. It's completely nuts, which does him a bit of damage as a credible villain, but his tactics are still effective. Having noticed Milady and her newfound status as the King's mistress, he does some research and starts to blackmail her – and we know how much his "word" is worth given what he did to his Anne-proxy prostitute, who was hired by the Spanish Ambassador to kill him, fails miserably, is promised mercy, but gets her ear sent to him in a box as a result.
Now the two of them are engaged in a power-play – there's no way Rochefort is going to leave her only, but Milady isn't one to take things lying down. If she gets the dirt on him, things might get very interesting as a result.
But does she really want to change her ways, as she attests to Athos? I think she wants luxury and comfort; that she never really enjoyed the assassin lifestyle, but you can never tell with her. That confrontation with Athos was everything it should have been:
"Whatever I am, you love me." |
Dammit, why can I never think of a snappy comeback? |
So Emilie returns to disperse the crowd, and even though I don't think it's that easy to stop a rolling stone, the cat is out of the bag and we're nearing the end of the episode. Josette's death was a bit unnecessary, though I suppose it underlies the complexity of all love when Emilie weeps over the body of the woman who both gave birth to her and drugged her for her own gain.
But at least this guy in the crowd made me laugh:
That awkward moment when your prophet says it's all been a sham. |
Miscellaneous Observations:
The moment Anne said the King was "busy with affairs of state," I knew it would immediately segue to Milady. Heh.
It's time for fandom to stop complaining that there's been no "build-up" to Anne and Constance. It's here, it's happening, and it's great. After the contrivance of Anne hiring Constance in the first place, I can easily believe that a lonely Queen would latch onto a woman who is clearly loyal, sympathetic and clear-head, and their interactions are adorable: the protectiveness in Constance's body language, Anne's hug after Constance's nightmare, the hand-holding, the secret-sharing, the silent exchanges – it's fantastic.
The BBC seem intent on proving that the show is totally for adults now, what with the bloodied Spaniard hanging from the side of the carriage, Milady's frequent innuendoes, and a prostitute wearing this dress:
Yeesh. |
I thought that black guys dying might be the new dead women trend (what with three dead in as many episodes), but the one featured here ended up surviving the situation. Though perhaps to compensate, they murdered the prostitute (with weird hints of necrophilia) instead.
Emilie never does get to see the King, but since she would have been grossly disappointed if she had, perhaps it's for the best.
Turns out that De Foix has died off-screen and left Porthos a legacy. He questions Treville about it, who shuts him down almost instantly – but since he's no longer the Captain, there are no orders for Porthos to obey when it comes to badgering him for more answers.
Rochefort has clearly realized Constance is a dead-end, and makes a move on Marguerite to be his informant, blackmailing her with knowledge of her affair with Aramis (THANKS Aramis). Of course, if Marguerite was smart she would immediately tell the Queen what he's up to so that they could agree to feed him the wrong information. But between this and D'artagnan talking Constance into not telling Anne about Milady, it would seem that it's "keep the Queen in the dark" day.
But perhaps our most interesting scene is when Milady speaks up for Treville in the presence of the King and Rochefort. Why do that...? Genuine regard or the usual cunning?
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