Heads up, there are some serious spoilers peppered throughout this entire article, but if you don't already know roughly how Les Misérables goes then you should be fired upon with a revolver from 1830 while you sing a sad, introspective song about being poor and misérable.
I'm going to begin at the beginning, but first I need you to do me a favor: I need you to admit to yourself that if you are a "theatre person", you wanted so hard to hate this movie. You wanted to nitpick and complain about famous actors playing the parts over obscure Broadway people, you wanted to hate the (absolutely necessary for filmmaking, and for artistic integrity in general) re-ordering of the scenes and re-orchestration of some music and re-writing of some lyrics, and you wanted to seethe over the weird new song. And that is just what you did: you came into the theatre wanting nothing less than a stage version of Les Mis that someone happened to catch with phenomenal film and sound equipment, and you congratulated yourself the whole time on loving theater so much that you noticed every replaced word and missing line in "Red and Black". To you, I say shut up. First of all, if I hear one more damn person complaining about movies that are made out of books/musicals/literally any kind of source material whatsoever that aren't precisely the same work portrayed in a different venue, I am going to storm your Bastille, cut your head off, and nail your babies to church doors. Then I am going to subsequently lose my power over you, starve in abject poverty for a few decades, and then fuck your shit up once more, with a little more gusto and longevity this time. So I'm asking you, especially you, theater-lovers, to hear me out for a freaking second before you continue your oral thesis on auto-tune.
First off, and let's get this out of the way: there is a lot of God metaphors, and... they're not exactly subtle. But here's the thing: when was the last time you met a person who had never heard of the Lord Jesus Christ, and was consequently unfamiliar with some of his imagery? Never. You have never met that person. So, when you have a character like Jean Valjean... so steeped in religious iconic imagery in every aspect, you would be remiss to neglect throwing a crucifix-looking thing at him every once in a while. So in the first scene, Jean Valjean carries a crucifix in the form of the French flag, serving as both a Christ image and a symbol of the crushing weight of being French in 1815. Also, oppression. French oppression. And--so, maybe there's no reason for him to pick the flag up and carry it two feet before he drops it right back in the mud, exactly where it was to begin with... but, friends, this is a movie, and sometimes the flashing images are more vital than the absolutely logical reason behind them. Or lack thereof. Perhaps we didn't need Dr. T.J. Eckleberg peeping over Valjean's shoulder during "God on High"-- but I will venture to suggest that maybe that's exactly what we needed. Because it was pretty, and it was obvious, and Jean Valjean is Jesus, and also Nick Carraway? Yes. Why not.
Overall, the Chain Gang scene is just, infinitely better on film, but really that's just a matter of logistics. You're not going to haul a nineteenth century boat hull onto a revolving stage for one scene that can easily be done other ways, Broadway or not. But if your heart doesn't thrill at that enormous, storm-battered ship being dragged into harbor by some hobo guys with ropes, you are dead inside. You are Inspector Javert condemning his own mother as scum for birthing him in a jail cell, is who you are. Meanwhile, the aforementioned Javert looks like a piss-ant in this scene, in his stupid little bright blue newspaper hat, and that is satisfying.
PRO TIP for non theater-people: DO NOT let Russell Crowe ruin this movie for you. He wants to ruin this movie for you, with his meted, "I-am-sing-ing-now", choppy singing, but you do not let him. You just say to yourself "Fuck you, Javert. You just want to ruin this movie because you kind of come off as a dick in it, even though the story and characterization is rich enough that you are also somewhat justified. Just fuck off, Inspector. You think you're something, but it's me who runs this town."
I'll say this: Russell Crowe is fine. He sort of plays Javert the way a high-school-hopeful-theatre-arts-major would if he was way too excited to be playing a bad guy. His singing is, fine. His acting is, fine. Could he have added layers of depth to the rigid, doggedly persistent hunter? Yes. Did he? He did not. He plays the character by-the-book, which... maybe is just really meta? I don't know, I don't even like Russell Crowe. You people are the ones who like him, you explain it. But I also think that part of his sorry performance is that it lives in the shadow of some truly magnificent performances and he just comes off looking even worse as a result. I will be the first to agree that there is so much more potential to the character than Crowe reaps, but as for the direction? A more seamless cover-up has never been implicated: for every moment that Crowe should be expressing something other than stony disapproval of desperately poor people but clearly isn't going to deliver, the camera will swoop across a broad panorama of old timey Paris in the rain, using a device that should be an obvious smokescreen (from a director whose main focus is historically on intimate characterization) in order to foreshadow Javert's ultimate suicide. When Javert should be displaying conflict instead of a calculated decision to jump into the Seine, we're treated to a breathtaking view of the violent, crashing river. If Tom Hooper had directed The Matrix, we might have just believed that Keanu Reeves was a human male instead of the alien cyborg we know him to be, so we all very well dodged a bullet there. A French bullet. From a musket. Revolution!
He even added a satisfying <crunch> as he hits the graded embankment so we could all enjoy Javert's death a little more than we probably should. Thank you, Tom Hooper!
Also, they cut Eponine's part... and... I'm glad of it. As much as I enjoyed playing Eponine when I was fourteen and then again, in my head, every time I listened to the soundtrack anywhere and at any time for years, she actually kind of sucks as a character. Because while Cosette is definitely two-dimensional (although in the movie, she is at least shown giving money to the poor as an indication of her Christian service, and therefore gains major clout as a respectable, fully-formed character) Eponine is really the only character that is just, some whiny little teenage girl, who is also hugely stupid. In the musical, she's infuriating while she continues to be an errand boy for Marius and Cosette, and then she's a big fat idiot for coming back to the barricade just so she can continue to look longingly at Marius and sigh. Guys, I know we love Eponine because she looks adorable in boy-clothes... but honestly, it just makes more sense for Gavroche to deliver the letter and Eponine to die earlier--and to die trying to save Marius! After he threatened to blow up the barricade! Nods to the epic book! Yay, Marius is less of a whiny baby in the movie!
The following barricade scene was simply a matter of choice: it was either going to be a sweeping panorama, or a study of characters within a battle. Seeing as the musical itself is already a sweeping panorama and we're dealing with Tom Hooper, we got a razor's edge portrayal of the heroic death of these young men, with a clarity and intimacy that was probably much closer to the actual reality of the early days in the revolution. In my opinion. I wasn't actually there. I will admit that I was waiting for the delicate pizzicato and the subsequent swell of violins as we made a sweep of the dead rebels over the barricade... but again, it was either/or. You can't combine the two storytelling techniques, or it gets messy. And again, nods to the book and the relationship between Enjolras and Grantaire.... when they die together. Tears! Tears! Weeping! Baby Gavroche with a medal of honor!
Meanwhile, the "Do You Hear the People Sing" scene, with the slow build and rebels storming the funeral procession of General LaMarque instead of randomly riding a cart around Paris? It had my French husband weeping for France... for liberté!
I'll stop now. But Anne Hathaway was transcendent. "I Dreamed a Dream" should always be after "Lovely Ladies", forever and ever. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment