From today's TIMES and NEWS-STAR
It
is not every day I recommend you spend your hard-earned money to see a movie three
hours long in which nearly every word is sung by the cast, including the men,
even when they are “talking” to other men.
Man
1, singing: “Your face looks famillliar.”
Man
2, singing: “You must be wrong, sir.”
Man
1 again: “Kiss my fooooot.”
Man
2 again: “I’ll whip your butt-ocks.”
Man
1: “In your dreams, sirrrr!”
Man
2: “Word to your moth-errrr!”
And
on like that.
It
takes some getting used to.
But
once you do – and it won’t take long as the opening scene, despite the men
singing to and at one another, is a jaw-dropper – “Les Miserables” is a
spectacle, an undertaking of color and sound and emotion and history born of –
and no other word fits here -- genius.
The
Victor Hugo novel of the mid-1800s which became a history-rewriting classic
musical more than 100 years later is now a movie, complete with a guy from
X-Men, a woman from Batman and a gladiator. Hollywood pulled out all the stops
for this baby.
Les
Sweet!
I
am no theater critic, but I did see “Cats” this year, on stage and everything.
And “Annie Get Your Gun.” Finally saw “Shrek” on late-night TV. I am eating
this culture stuff up with a spoon.
So
I must report that, sure, “Les Mis” is not without flaws. There is no doubt of
that. John Wayne isn’t in it, for instance. Neither is Clint Eastwood or Morgan
Freeman. Still, it has horses, gunplay, a big boat (right at the first, too!),
old timey clothes, an innkeeper with an attitude and, for you guys still paying
attention, a girl with unblemished caramel skin singing in the rain.
Les
Bingo!
Please
know going in that this is not a terribly happy movie. It’s no “Dirty Harry.”
This is more like Ol’ Yeller dying every other scene. The title alone should be
a hint. A few years ago when I saw “There Will Be Blood,” I suspected someone would
be injured. Same deal with “The Departed.” It’s musicals like “The Lion King” --
where an innocent wildebeest dying catches you by surprise -- that you have to
be careful about. In “Les Mis,” Vic Hugo spells it out for you on the title
page.
What
you’ve got is Prisoner 24601/Jean Valjean, plus the guy who for years chases
him, plus the adopted daughter of Valjean and her fore and aft hijinks, as well
as urchins, the Master of the House, and a well-intentioned post-revolutionary
French uprising that gains about as much traction as Notre Dame’s offense did against
Alabama in Monday night’s BCS Championship Beatdown.
A
quick word about the French Army. Its confetti moments, let’s be honest, have
been few and far between. And in a musical, they have it twice as bad. For one,
all the altos are immediately handed a saber and a biscuit and sent to the
front. The tenors are relegated to ammo lifting, since they’re straining
anyway. Everyone else of any rank is handed a funny hat. That’s a half-hour’s worth
of les miserables right there.
But
there is love too. Redeeming love. Love is the reason my wife kept asking for
napkins, even though she wasn’t eating popcorn. If the music alone doesn’t get
you, this tale should, this ever-human story of redemption, of injustice, of
childhood lost, of misery verses hope and of “nothingness to God.”
Go
see it. Take a chance. Strap in. Les pretty good.
-30-
