Les Miserables I'll say right up front that I'm not much of a fan of musicals, and, though I've long been familiar with some of its songs and its story of love and redemption amidst a 19th century French uprising, I've never seen the stage production of "Les Miserables." So, I wasn't expecting to be real crazy about the movie version. But surprisingly for me, I was entranced.
There are two things I hate about musicals: one is characters that burst into song. The other is characters that spontaneously break into perfectly choreographed dancing. But "Les Miserables" is technically a rock opera that is sung throughout. That may seem like a small difference, but for me, it actually makes the work more accessible. The actors can't ever technically burst into song since they're already singing. So, the abrupt changes that normally take me out of the movie never happen. And there's absolutely no dancing.
The other deviation from the norm that helped the movie work for me, is director Tom Hooper's bold decision to have his actors sing live on the set. Often in movies like this, no matter how convincing the sets and costumes are, the illusion is ruined when the character's voices sound like they were recorded in a warm, comfortable studio somewhere else (because they were). That problem doesn't exist here. The cast is not lip-syncing to songs that were previously recorded. Not only does the live element make it all sound more "real," but you also don't get the sense that they're belting it out as if singing to the last row of a theater (as they might have if they pre-recorded the songs). Instead, they're only playing to a camera that's a few feet away. Because the cast sings the scenes live, they set their own tempo, pausing where they need to for dramatic effect. The music was recorded later, so the music follows the actors, not the other way around. The change makes a huge difference and its effect is very powerful. Essentially, what we are treated to is a very loose, intimate live performance captured on film.
Anne Hathaway delivers the most powerful of these performances. She plays the tragic prostitute, Fantine. (Her mother performed the part in a national touring version of the stage show, so you could say this a role Hathaway was literally born to play.) Hathaway performs the signature song, "I Dreamed a Dream," in one, single, close-up take – and it is devastating.
Hugh Jackman is also particularly good. As Jean Valjean, the ex-convict-turned-factory-owner, he carries the movie. Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter also pop up to provide some much-needed comic relief. (I did find it ironic that all of the Australians and Americans in the cast sing with British accents, while Baron Cohen -- the best-known Brit in the cast -- sings with a French accent.) Not all of the performances are flawless, however, and not all members of the cast have the strongest singing voice (Russell Crowe, I'm talking about you). But this movie is an example of the beauty of imperfection. The flaws enhance the realism. You don't get the sense that Crowe's Javert is an opera singer in a police uniform. You get the sense he's a policeman who's expressing himself with the voice he has.
Though the movie is based on a novel that's more then 150 years old, the story has a timely feel. When we see the depictions of barricades in the streets and a populist uprising, one can't help but think of Occupy Wall Street and current debates about social and economic injustice. Maybe the human race still hasn't come that far since the middle of the 1800s, but "Les Miserable" does represent a huge leap forward for movie musicals.
There are two things I hate about musicals: one is characters that burst into song. The other is characters that spontaneously break into perfectly choreographed dancing. But "Les Miserables" is technically a rock opera that is sung throughout. That may seem like a small difference, but for me, it actually makes the work more accessible. The actors can't ever technically burst into song since they're already singing. So, the abrupt changes that normally take me out of the movie never happen. And there's absolutely no dancing.
The other deviation from the norm that helped the movie work for me, is director Tom Hooper's bold decision to have his actors sing live on the set. Often in movies like this, no matter how convincing the sets and costumes are, the illusion is ruined when the character's voices sound like they were recorded in a warm, comfortable studio somewhere else (because they were). That problem doesn't exist here. The cast is not lip-syncing to songs that were previously recorded. Not only does the live element make it all sound more "real," but you also don't get the sense that they're belting it out as if singing to the last row of a theater (as they might have if they pre-recorded the songs). Instead, they're only playing to a camera that's a few feet away. Because the cast sings the scenes live, they set their own tempo, pausing where they need to for dramatic effect. The music was recorded later, so the music follows the actors, not the other way around. The change makes a huge difference and its effect is very powerful. Essentially, what we are treated to is a very loose, intimate live performance captured on film.
Anne Hathaway delivers the most powerful of these performances. She plays the tragic prostitute, Fantine. (Her mother performed the part in a national touring version of the stage show, so you could say this a role Hathaway was literally born to play.) Hathaway performs the signature song, "I Dreamed a Dream," in one, single, close-up take – and it is devastating.
Hugh Jackman is also particularly good. As Jean Valjean, the ex-convict-turned-factory-owner, he carries the movie. Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter also pop up to provide some much-needed comic relief. (I did find it ironic that all of the Australians and Americans in the cast sing with British accents, while Baron Cohen -- the best-known Brit in the cast -- sings with a French accent.) Not all of the performances are flawless, however, and not all members of the cast have the strongest singing voice (Russell Crowe, I'm talking about you). But this movie is an example of the beauty of imperfection. The flaws enhance the realism. You don't get the sense that Crowe's Javert is an opera singer in a police uniform. You get the sense he's a policeman who's expressing himself with the voice he has.
Though the movie is based on a novel that's more then 150 years old, the story has a timely feel. When we see the depictions of barricades in the streets and a populist uprising, one can't help but think of Occupy Wall Street and current debates about social and economic injustice. Maybe the human race still hasn't come that far since the middle of the 1800s, but "Les Miserable" does represent a huge leap forward for movie musicals.