Dickens and Arthur Conan Doyle both qualify as cheap trashy reading, more or less, in their day. I love that about them.

I have a vivid memory of slow-motion swordplay in the Lester movie--the opening moments, as I recall, D'Artagnan practiced in a sunbeam-filled barn with something more like a broadsword than an epée. It was beautiful and startling and new at the time. I can see where it would inspire.