- Music
- 21 Jan 13
Gorgeous and grandiose, this flawed but affective musical hits all the right emotional notes
Based on Victor Hugo’s novel about the desperate search for redemption, forgiveness, hope and love against the backdrop of the 1823 Paris Uprising, Les Misérables is an epic, sprawling story.
However, its enduring power lies in its characters’ intimate and reflective moments, where they reveal their fears and vulnerability. The best songs from Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel’s score are the sad, pensive monologues from these downtrodden Miserable Ones.
So while director Tom Hooper may use tight close-ups excessively in this gorgeous and grandiose adaptation, it’s an understandable choice, and one that occasionally results in magic. It opens with a pleading rendition of ‘Who Am I?’ from the gaunt and stricken thief Jean Valjean (a superb Hugh Jackman). Hooper’s intimate close-ups of Jackman’s filthy, tear-streaked face, sweeping crane shots and beautiful locations let the audience know that the emotions are going to be as big as the set pieces.
This is never more evident than when Anne Hathaway sings ‘I Dreamed A Dream’ in one unbroken, three-minute close-up. As the persecuted prostitute Fantine, Hathaway injects a hopeless, raw emotion into a song previously stripped of all meaning thanks to too many Britain’s Got Talent auditions.
The devastating, Oscar-worthy scene embodies Hooper’s admirable desire to allow the often white-washed squalor, destitution and hopelessness of Hugo’s tale to seep into every shot of the film. The extremes are evocative and emotionally affecting, so that when the French revolutionaries fight while stirringly “singing a song of angry men,” you understand the poverty-stricken world they’re trying to escape.
Les Misérables’ biggest problems originate from the source novel and musical. Russell Crowe’s policeman Javert remains an unengaging character, mercilessly bloating out the already overlong story. The film also suffers the tonal disjoint of the musical as Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter’s outrageous comic stylings feel clumsily sandwiched between scenes of tear-jerking tragedy.