The brawny, bloodlust howl of “Gladiator II” isn’t your only opportunity for sweeping period spectacle this season, thanks to the renewed allure that OG adventure author Alexandre Dumas has exerted over the French film industry of late.

Last year’s hearty two-part “The Three Musketeers” (“D’Artagnan” and “Milady”) has now been followed up by an even grander and no less enjoyable import: a new adaptation of “The Count of Monte Cristo,” directed by “Musketeers” screenwriters and official Dumas-philes Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière. Moviegoers will want to augment their starchy, sinewy Roman vengeance diet with the herby Gallic mother sauce battering this “Monte Cristo” — after all, “Gladiator” tips its helmet to “Ben-Hur,” which was directly inspired by Dumas’ payback classic.

And like any multicourse French feast worth its indulgence, this one clocks in at three hours. But that time flies by, akin to a cozy night in with an episode binge. This zesty condensation of an 18-volume, 1300-page epic is a model of streamlining, even if the narrative’s many tantalizing threads, emotions and complications could stand to be fleshed out even more. That’s the irony, though, of rapt investment in a tale conveying the weight of decades: The nuance is earned, and whether it’s well-applied becomes the difference between a merely ripping yarn and a satisfyingly complete one.

But this absence of subtlety is barely a criticism, because what is on display here, whether on land or at sea, marked by bloom or doom, is a gorgeous, gripping pleasure. For starters, there’s the superb casting of brooding, almond-eyed Pierre Niney (“Frantz”), his man-of-few-words intensity suggesting the offspring of a swashbuckler and a troubled art-house romantic. That alchemy becomes a potent asset as his Edmond, a young ship’s captain framed for treason by his jealous friend Fernand (Bastien Bouillon) and resentful crewmate Danglars (Patrick Mille) and sent up for life by corrupt prosecutor Villefort (Laurent Lafitte), goes from whirlwind victim to masked-and-mysterious long-game plotter.

Help comes first with a wise, mentoring Italian cellmate (Pierfrancesco Favino) and a thrillingly depicted escape after 14 years (a mere blip to us) on an island prison. Appearing again in disguise as a wealthy, worldly, black-clad count (but harboring an elaborate plan of retribution), Edmond glides back into the prosperous lives of the men who betrayed him. He also discovers a son (Vassili Schneider) that Fernand, now a war hero, fathered after scooping up Edmond’s bereft fiancée Mercédès (Anaïs Demoustier) for himself. At the Count’s side are an embittered, orphaned young man (Julien de Saint Jean) and woman (Anamaria Vartolomei) with reasons of their own for becoming adoptees to their benefactor’s scheme.

Delaporte and De La Patellière understand that Dumas’ type of novelistic revenge, whether froid or chaud, is best served onscreen in the most picturesque European locations, with cinematographer Nicolas Bolduc’s cameras ready to swoop and soar as needed, and paced to gallop, never dawdle. Again, it might have been nice if the film had lingered more in certain intimate moments, especially when Niney gets his big declaration-of-intent scene, alone in a church, railing at God, ready to settle scores. That moment almost demands a fiery extended soliloquy, not the rushed version on offer.

But the filmmakers know when to elongate tension elsewhere, as in a deliciously mean-spirited dinner scene in which the Count, armed with his unwitting targets’ secret sins, toys with them, a performance that also betrays an inkling of his cruelty’s perilousness. Of course, as “Monte Cristo” plays out, we’re meant to question all that is wrought by a cold-justice mindset, and yes, those lessons become a bit of a moral buzzkill. But that’s only after so much to relish from the exploits of one of literature’s archetypal punishers, who welcomes nightmares, he explains, because “They keep my wounds fresh.” Joyeux noël, mes amis!