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Saturday, December 29, 2012

Les Miserables review: Nothing but a Dream

WordMaster


                “There was a time when men were kind…”

                So begins the most celebrated song from Les Miserables, the blockbuster musical adaptation of Victor Hugo’s 1862 novel of the same name. Originally written and produced by songwriter Alain Boublil and composer Claude-Michel Schönberg in France, it has since inspired numerous productions both in the U.S. and around the world, blossoming into one of the most popular musicals of all time. It’s hard to believe that, although the story of Les Mis has been translated into film many times, including, most recently, a version starring Liam Neeson as Jean Valjean and Geoffrey Rush as Inspector Javert, no one has managed to bring the stage musical to the silver screen – until now, that is. After twenty years of failed attempts, Oscar-winning director Tom Hooper has finally turned the international sensation into a work of cinema.

                Lovers of the musical should not be disappointed. Hooper’s adaptation keeps the sung-through style of the stage version intact; if I’d bothered keeping track, I could probably have counted the number of lines of spoken dialogue on two hands. And the grand scope certainly befits the inherent theatricality of a stage musical. The movie opens with a sweeping overhead shot of the harbor, where an army of convicts bound in chain gangs struggles to right a capsized ship, their faces drenched in water and mud. It’s a jaw-dropping sight, plunging viewers straight into the grit and grime of 19th century France, and for the most part, the movie works best in scenes like this: epic, grandiose and bursting with Big Emotions. As with many plays (musicals in particular), subtlety is not in the vocabulary of Les Mis. The symbolism is blatant (when Jean Valjean is forced to carry the fallen French flag, he’s a personification of the working class that supports the country through its typically unrewarded hard work); the characters openly state their thoughts and feelings, more often than not through song; and the themes of class, redemption and spirituality are broad. None of this is necessarily bad. In fact, at times, Les Miserables is quite moving.
 
                Which brings us back to “I Dreamed a Dream,” that famous show-stopper of a song. Here, it’s performed live (no lip-synching, no recording) by Anne Hathaway, who, after her scene-stealing turn as Selina Kyle/Catwoman in The Dark Knight Rises, once again proves that she’s much more than a pretty face. For an actress that rose to fame with innocent, good-girl roles like Mia Thermopolis in The Princess Diaries and Andy Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada, Hathaway has shown herself to be among the most magnetic stars of her generation, lending charisma and soul to troubled, even unlikable characters (her performance in the otherwise-mediocre Rachel Getting Married is a stunner) and displaying an admirable willingness to take risks and challenge herself. As Fantine, perhaps the most demanding role of her career so far, she shines, standing out in a starry ensemble cast despite limited screen-time with a mixture of emotional vulnerability and sheer bravura – not to mention her voice. The scene in which she belts out “I Dreamed a Dream,” alternately wistful, anguished, defiant and forlorn, the camera trained closely on her gaunt, tear-stained face, is not only the best scene of the movie but also one of the most powerful and harrowing moments in cinema this year. Hathaway deserves an Oscar nomination, if not a win, for that scene alone.

                The rest of the cast ranges from good (Hugh Jackman, the underused Samantha Barks) to subpar (Amanda Seyfried, who uses an irritating amount of vibrato and struggles to hit the high notes). Other than Hathaway, the most talked-about performance is probably that of Russell Crowe, whose casting as the stern, tenacious Inspector Javert has drawn mixed reactions. Personally, although it was a tad jarring at first to hear Crowe – who’s most well-known for tough-guy roles in films like L.A. Confidential and Gladiator – warbling Broadway numbers, I didn’t have a problem with him. His voice is rather unpolished compared to that of his more experienced colleagues (though it should be noted that he did some musical theatre in Australia before breaking out in film), but what he lacks in singing ability, he, for the most part, makes up for in acting ability and screen presence. It’s nice to know that even after a few years of substandard gigs, Crowe still has that spark of intensity that made him so mesmerizing to watch in his late-‘90s heyday.

                No, what really brings Les Mis down, what prevents it from being a truly successful movie, is the romance. Having admittedly not read the book or seen the stage version, I have no idea how faithful Hooper’s rendition of the Marius/Cosette/Eponine love triangle is to the source material, but the simple fact of the matter is that not a single aspect of the relationship between these characters was exciting or convincing. First of all, in Seyfried and Eddie Redmayne, Hooper could not have chosen two more lackluster actors to portray the young lovers. As individuals, they fail to give their characters any nuance, never transcending the fearless hero and pure maiden archetypes, and as a couple, they have no chemistry to speak of. We’re expected to believe that Marius and Cosette are destined to be together, yet when they only share one conversation throughout the entire movie (a conversation that isn’t even particularly revealing), it’s hard to care about what happens between them. As Eponine, Barks fares slightly better since it seems as though she has an actual personality, and she does a nice job with “On My Own,” the musical’s other signature number, but she still can’t convey why her character is so in love with Marius, who never appears to give her a second thought. Because the second half of the film is largely depended on the flimsy relationship between Marius and Cosette, it drags, picking up only at the very end when the focus returns to Jackman’s Jean Valjean. By then, though, the movie has reached the 160-minute mark and long since run out of steam.

                The movie is also let down by Hooper himself. While the visuals – the costumes, the set design – are mostly solid, the overall direction leaves much to be desired. As with The King’s Speech, for which he inexplicably won an Oscar, beating out more deserving contenders such as David Fincher (The Social Network) and Darren Aronofsky (Black Swan), Hooper gives Les Mis a vaguely Masterpiece Theatre feel, perhaps a remnant of his background in television. The lighting is frequently murky, and he has an annoying tendency to either use extreme close-ups, showing us numerous very scenic views of the pores on the actors’ faces, or rapid zoom-outs, which are conspicuous enough to be distracting and serve no apparent purpose. Hooper also has no idea how to film action scenes, as the battle sequences all exploit the overworked shaky-camera approach, making them bewildering at best and incoherent at worst.

                As a whole, Les Mis feels chaotic, meandering toward a vague endpoint without any solid thread to tie the various fragments together. It’s all surface and no depth. Several of the characters lack well-defined motivations, making their actions befuddling; subplots come and go with little consequence; the uprising ignited by a group of lower-class students never achieves the sense of urgency it should (The Dark Knight Rises did a much better job of conveying the rage, violence and fervor of revolution); and as good as the visuals look, there’s something vaguely inauthentic about them. You’re always aware that you’re looking at a set, at costumes, at well-placed dirt; only Hugh Jackman’s aging make-up ever seems completely real. At the very least, though, there’s “I Dreamed a Dream,” a soaring, heartrending glimpse of the movie this could have been. 










Links:
http://www.digitalspy.com/movies/news/a395280/les-miserables-wont-be-camp-says-director-tom-hooper.html

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