Progressive culture is woefully lacking in imagination. When it comes to making people dream and telling stories, nothing beats recycling the great classics. This is the spirit in which Toutes pour une (All for one, in the feminine), a remake of Alexandre Dumas’ masterpiece The Three Musketeers, was shot. Dumas may recently have been transformed into a precursor of wokeism, but he remains a little too patriarchal: his works contain men, far too many men.
The original story has, therefore, been extensively remodelled by screenwriter Houda Benyamina. The heroine is no longer d’Artagnan, but Sara, a young girl who is shocked to discover that the three musketeers charged with looking after the Queen of France are in fact… women. From then on, she dreams of fighting alongside them. Their destiny? “To transform in order to be free, to transform in order to be oneself.” What a programme: it almost looks like a Planned Parenthood poster advocating gender transition.
The three musketeers have not only given up testosterone for oestrogen—they’ve also been great-replaced. They are no longer the dark Athos, a nobleman from Béarn; Aramis, elegant Chevalier d’Herblay; or the truculent Porthos inspired by the Protestant lord Isaac de Portau, but three shrews of unlikely origins. What are a wild Moroccan (Oulaya Amamra), a daughter of Algerians (Sabrina Ouazani), and a pudgy Congolese immigrant doing in the France of the good King Louis XIII? Concerns about consistency are clearly not stifling the director, who is herself of Moroccan origin (and sister of Oulaya Amamra: at least she didn’t have much trouble getting one of them on board!)
In today’s France, where culture is almost exclusively in the hands of the progressive Left, such a film project could only be brought to fruition with a great deal of public funding. Toutes pour une received, the Destination Ciné X account explains, €2.6 million from France TV, €850,000 from the Centre National de la Cinématographie, €550,000 from the Île-de-France, Occitanie, and Provence regions, and €500,000 from European funds via Eurimages, for a total budget of €10 million.
In her press kit, the director acknowledges that she is being militant. On the Left, since Jdanov, the Soviet Union’s ‘propagandist-in-chief,’ cultural activism has been seen as a high-value achievement. “Through an adventure film, I wanted to question gender identity. Maybe that’s what it means to be relevant to our time,” she explains, with (a very relative) audacity.
Let’s be straightforward to avoid any accusations of intellectual dishonesty: We haven’t seen the film, and we have no desire to see it. What’s available about it on the web is more than enough to give you an idea. It’s ugly and vulgar. The plot is shaky and furiously lacking in imagination, and the direction is vague and imprecise. In short, this film is what we in French call un navet (a turnip).
The film, which aims to honour female heroines, doesn’t escape the main scam of self-righteous feminism: asking women to ape the worst traits of men, i.e., obscenity, fat laughs, jokes below the belt, and sexual obsession. Apparently, that’s what being a man is all about.
Audiences were clear in their response: during its theatrical release week, the film achieved a record low attendance. With just 1271 admissions for 564 screenings, the film maintained a very respectable average of 2 spectators per screening. This is good news: common sense has not totally deserted Dumas’ country. And, as journalist Bérengère Viennot wittily points out on X, the statistics are distorted by the presence in the cinema of journalists paid to inflict this burden on themselves, and who made the effort to attend simply because they had no other choice.
How can we fail to compare this pitiful spectacle with the dazzling success a few months ago of the flamboyant Count of Monte Cristo, brought to the screen by Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière, which sold over 9 million tickets and went on to conquer international audiences, becoming the most-watched French film in the world in 2024? The brilliantly classic, yet skilfully updated direction took just the right amount of liberties with the original work to give it the spirit it needed to bring a sprawling plot within the confines of a big-screen film.
But the scandal of Toutes pour une, financed by French taxpayers who didn’t ask for it and don’t want it, doesn’t stop there. The Allociné platform, which gathers reviews from cinema-goers and the press for each new cinema release, was alarmed by the desperately low score achieved by Toutes pour une the week it arrived in cinemas and cried scandal. A score of 5% from satisfied viewers could not be honest. To dismiss such a masterpiece with such contempt could only be the result of a concerted effort by Elon Musk’s henchmen, directed from the underbelly of X. Allociné has therefore simply decided, exceptionally, to remove the spectators’ rating from the film’s online entry. There’s something Soviet about this reaction—as if it were neither possible nor morally acceptable for this film to be considered genuinely bad.
Let’s rejoice: society tiring of the over-saturation of wokeism is not a phenomenon confined to Trump’s America. An irresistible opposing wave is rising just about everywhere. Our hope is that it will sweep away all the mediocre dross in its path, and that artists will finally choose to celebrate the beautiful, the good, and the true.
Toutes pour une: Using Tax Money To Turn a Beloved Classic Into a Woke Flop
® Antonin Amy-Menichett / ®2025 – EASY TIGER – STUDIOCANAL – VERSUS PRODUCTION – FRANCE 2 CINEMA – RTBF (TELEVISION BELGE) – SPIRIT BIRD
Progressive culture is woefully lacking in imagination. When it comes to making people dream and telling stories, nothing beats recycling the great classics. This is the spirit in which Toutes pour une (All for one, in the feminine), a remake of Alexandre Dumas’ masterpiece The Three Musketeers, was shot. Dumas may recently have been transformed into a precursor of wokeism, but he remains a little too patriarchal: his works contain men, far too many men.
The original story has, therefore, been extensively remodelled by screenwriter Houda Benyamina. The heroine is no longer d’Artagnan, but Sara, a young girl who is shocked to discover that the three musketeers charged with looking after the Queen of France are in fact… women. From then on, she dreams of fighting alongside them. Their destiny? “To transform in order to be free, to transform in order to be oneself.” What a programme: it almost looks like a Planned Parenthood poster advocating gender transition.
The three musketeers have not only given up testosterone for oestrogen—they’ve also been great-replaced. They are no longer the dark Athos, a nobleman from Béarn; Aramis, elegant Chevalier d’Herblay; or the truculent Porthos inspired by the Protestant lord Isaac de Portau, but three shrews of unlikely origins. What are a wild Moroccan (Oulaya Amamra), a daughter of Algerians (Sabrina Ouazani), and a pudgy Congolese immigrant doing in the France of the good King Louis XIII? Concerns about consistency are clearly not stifling the director, who is herself of Moroccan origin (and sister of Oulaya Amamra: at least she didn’t have much trouble getting one of them on board!)
In today’s France, where culture is almost exclusively in the hands of the progressive Left, such a film project could only be brought to fruition with a great deal of public funding. Toutes pour une received, the Destination Ciné X account explains, €2.6 million from France TV, €850,000 from the Centre National de la Cinématographie, €550,000 from the Île-de-France, Occitanie, and Provence regions, and €500,000 from European funds via Eurimages, for a total budget of €10 million.
In her press kit, the director acknowledges that she is being militant. On the Left, since Jdanov, the Soviet Union’s ‘propagandist-in-chief,’ cultural activism has been seen as a high-value achievement. “Through an adventure film, I wanted to question gender identity. Maybe that’s what it means to be relevant to our time,” she explains, with (a very relative) audacity.
Let’s be straightforward to avoid any accusations of intellectual dishonesty: We haven’t seen the film, and we have no desire to see it. What’s available about it on the web is more than enough to give you an idea. It’s ugly and vulgar. The plot is shaky and furiously lacking in imagination, and the direction is vague and imprecise. In short, this film is what we in French call un navet (a turnip).
The film, which aims to honour female heroines, doesn’t escape the main scam of self-righteous feminism: asking women to ape the worst traits of men, i.e., obscenity, fat laughs, jokes below the belt, and sexual obsession. Apparently, that’s what being a man is all about.
Audiences were clear in their response: during its theatrical release week, the film achieved a record low attendance. With just 1271 admissions for 564 screenings, the film maintained a very respectable average of 2 spectators per screening. This is good news: common sense has not totally deserted Dumas’ country. And, as journalist Bérengère Viennot wittily points out on X, the statistics are distorted by the presence in the cinema of journalists paid to inflict this burden on themselves, and who made the effort to attend simply because they had no other choice.
How can we fail to compare this pitiful spectacle with the dazzling success a few months ago of the flamboyant Count of Monte Cristo, brought to the screen by Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière, which sold over 9 million tickets and went on to conquer international audiences, becoming the most-watched French film in the world in 2024? The brilliantly classic, yet skilfully updated direction took just the right amount of liberties with the original work to give it the spirit it needed to bring a sprawling plot within the confines of a big-screen film.
But the scandal of Toutes pour une, financed by French taxpayers who didn’t ask for it and don’t want it, doesn’t stop there. The Allociné platform, which gathers reviews from cinema-goers and the press for each new cinema release, was alarmed by the desperately low score achieved by Toutes pour une the week it arrived in cinemas and cried scandal. A score of 5% from satisfied viewers could not be honest. To dismiss such a masterpiece with such contempt could only be the result of a concerted effort by Elon Musk’s henchmen, directed from the underbelly of X. Allociné has therefore simply decided, exceptionally, to remove the spectators’ rating from the film’s online entry. There’s something Soviet about this reaction—as if it were neither possible nor morally acceptable for this film to be considered genuinely bad.
Let’s rejoice: society tiring of the over-saturation of wokeism is not a phenomenon confined to Trump’s America. An irresistible opposing wave is rising just about everywhere. Our hope is that it will sweep away all the mediocre dross in its path, and that artists will finally choose to celebrate the beautiful, the good, and the true.
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