My husband and I are great fans of Public Broadcasting. We watch Nova, Antiques Roadshow, and everything produced by Masterpiece Theater.

So I was aware that there was another version of The Count of Monte Cristo coming up this month.

I have to admit that my first reaction was a little bit on the “meh” side of the like/don’t like divide. How many times has someone made a movie of this tale of false imprisonment and revenge? Well, come to find out, the short answer is 29 movies as well as numerous television series and other fare that was “inspired by.”

But…but…but…this story is so good, telling this tale again—especially now—makes for great entertainment. And conjures up some thinking as well.

For those of you not familiar, The Count of Monte Cristo was first published in serial form (18 installments) between 1844 and 1846. Lots of books were serialized in that great age of magazines. The Sherlock Holmes stories first appeared in the Strand Magazine. Many of Charles Dickens’ books and certainly his short stories appeared in magazines in both England and America. The contemporary author Alexander McCall Smith’s 44 Scotland Street books make their first appearances in The Scotsman published in Edinburgh.

Once all eighteen installments were in print, author Alexander Dumas put them together in book form. And The Count was an immediate best-seller.

Remember that the mid-19th century was a time of political upheaval in Europe. Bonaparte and his army and their wars were not that long in the past. And along with political upheaval came its twin, political corruption.

Sounding familiar? I think so too which makes the timing of this six-part series even more interesting.

The main thread of the story is the wrongful imprisonment of an innocent young man named Edmond Dantés in a wretched stronghold just off the coast of Marseille called the Chateau d’If. No trial, no opportunity to prove his innocence, and no explanation as to why he has been imprisoned for a treason he did not commit.

After six years, another prisoner, Abbé Faria, comes through the wall of Dantés’ cell. Seems he made a miscalculation in the escape tunnel he was digging. The two men become friends and collaborators, digging together during the day. At night, Abbé, who is a very learned man, educates Dantés in the sciences, literature, mathematics, and even table manners.

Faria eventually falls ill and as he dies, he bequeaths a great secret to Dantés–the location of an enormous fortune which the younger man will use to finance his revenge on the three men who colluded to imprison him.

In a lot of ways, that is where the fun begins.

In addition to being a ripping good tale, author Dumas had a lot to say about justice and the insidious moral gangrene that accompanies corruption. Because corruption is not a one-of-a-kind-phenomenon. With every corrupt act, the perpetrator learns what he or she can get away with, what lines can be stepped over, and how easy it is to entice others to join you.

Think Bernie Madoff, Jeffrey Epstein, the tech bros who own Amazon, Meta, Google, Tesla, and Apple, and the entire Trump administration.

The cast of this version of The Count of Monte Cristo is superb as is the screenplay, sets, music, and costumes. My husband and I tried to watch it slowly, and even discussed parsing the episodes out one at a time. But we were mesmerized, and binge watched it over three days.

And we could watch it again.

So, this is a hearty recommendation. Indulge yourself in a bit of fantasy revenge. Who knows? Maybe it will come true for us as well.