Skip to main content

Musical Month: Les Miserables

 

We arrive at the end of Musical Theatre Month with the one show I have seen before. Twice in fact; and I’ve listened to the original West End and Broadway recordings, and seen the tenth anniversary concert performance from 1995, and watched the bad movie adaptation. Les Miserables is probably my favourite musical, as it is for so many people who aren’t avid musical lovers. It’s one of the only musicals that has really transcended its’ form in a way and spoken to those outside of the interest sphere of musical theatre. I mean there’s a lot in there that resonates: the call to revolution and condemnation of cruel and incompetent government, the Dickensian sympathy towards the poor, the theme of redemption, religious piety vs. following the precepts of Jesus, star-crossed romance, the list goes on. And all of these are emphatically represented in the fervor of the songs and the passion behind every one -the only musical I’ve seen where just about every song is great. Victor Hugo’s story is of course a very compelling one and the cast is full of strong and interesting characters from different backgrounds and ideologies. It’s basically a perfect musical.
Schönberg and Boublil’s original show premiered in Paris in 1980, but the English language version didn’t hit London until 1985; and so the 25th Anniversary concert performance from 2010 was really the 30th anniversary performance, because of course the British are more than happy to co-opt French accomplishments for themselves. This one was filmed, considered a definitive version of the show by many, and yet I had never seen it. It boasted a really impressive cast (and a couple stunt-castings), and the grand arena of the O2 as its’ backdrop. These production values coupled with a show I already like a lot seemed to indicate I would love it.
And I did. There are a couple hiccups here and there when it comes to filming and the limitations of the concert style as opposed to a more conventionally staged enactment, but for the most part it really impressed to the degree it may well be the best version of the show to see if you can’t see it live -and in fact given the quality of some of these singers, it probably bests quite a few live performances too.
The filmed aspect of this translation is interesting, and I think I’ll discuss it first for a change. This is not a very naturally cinematic portrait of the show, and that’s owing primarily to the presentation style. It is a concert, which means there are no real sets beyond the backdrop and each of the actors delivers their part at a series of mics at the front of the stage, not moving around on stage a whole lot or interacting with co-stars unless particularly necessary -it’s a very socially distant method of performing the show. Jesus Christ Superstar was a concert as well, but without the latter component. As was the tenth anniversary of Les Mis -though this one incorporates the whole show rather than each major number in turn. The concert format of course only suits sung-through musicals, and the reason I imagine it’s the preference for both major recordings of Les Mis is because of the songs themselves. They’re big and bombastic, often requiring long holds on notes, designed for projection and large audiences. Singing them at a mic stand is more conducive to that end than traditional portable mics. There’s also a gravity to each song I find when the performer is just belting it out from their mark. And frankly Les Mis doesn’t necessarily need a lot of movement during songs or excessive set dressing to be just as good -I can’t really think of any advantages a more conventional format would pose for the acting, the singing, the action, or the production design.
However I can think of advantages it would pose for film. The concert format is sometimes at odds with the visual language of film and does limit the capabilities of it. Singers being rooted in place makes the show less dynamic, edits have to be more creative, and for the purposes of film the theatrical reality has to be dropped a tad. Singers are superimposed against each other when they’re not close enough physically, such as in the “Confrontation” number, to mixed effect, and once or twice during solos the editor struggles to find new angles to cut to. It’s not particularly conducive to the visual experience of film. Except when it is. When there’s less to distract the eye from a singers’ performance and we’re fully there with them in the moment, the emotion and intensity resonates all the more. Many of the best bits are just the actors, the spotlight, and a vacant background, and it forces you to engage directly with the performance. It’s one of the few things the Les Mis movie did right for “I Dreamed A Dream”, fixating on Fantine and removing a lot of the external elements to make the song more powerful.
      Here the song is just as much so, performed by a terrific Lea Salonga, who’d pr
eviously been a highlight as Eponine in the tenth anniversary concert fifteen years earlier. It’s one of the three cornerstone numbers of the show (the others being of course “Do You Hear the People Sing” and “One Day More”), and Salonga performs it with a beautiful plaintive despondence that meets in the middle of anger and sadness -honestly one of the best versions of the song. Her “Come to Me” is really good too and she overall is just a great fit. And that can be said for a lot of the cast.
Alfie Boe as Valjean has to follow in the footsteps of legendary takes on the character from the likes of Colm Wilkinson and John Owen-Jones; and especially compared to the former, who originated the part in the West End, on Broadway, and in the tenth anniversary concert, can’t come close to matching up. But Boe approaches it in his own way, and though he’s not quite the standout a couple of his co-stars are, he gives a worthy performance -if he may come across a tad young for the part. I especially liked his “Bring Him Home”, but “What Have I Done”, “Who Am I”, “Valjeans’ Death”, and his parts of “One Day More” are still exceptional.
This show was also a break-out for a few of its’ younger cast members. You might recall I discussed Ramin Karimloo earlier this month in Phantom of the Opera -well the year before that performance he appeared as Enjolras here. And while I understand Karimloo was a rising star in the theatre world before this show (and had in fact even played the Phantom before now), I can’t imagine his stirring vocal aptitude and scene-stealing presence in “Look Down”, “Red and Black”, and especially “Do You Hear the People Sing” didn’t account for greater opportunities for him in the years following. The fact it was filmed certainly brought some additional publicity to him. The other strong new voice of the show was of course Samantha Barks, at the time a relative novice of professional musical theatre, knocking it out of the park as Eponine, Les Mis’ fan favourite character if ever there was one. And honestly she may well be the best Eponine I’ve seen, with a glorious “On My Own” and such a heartbreaking “Little Fall of Rain” as well as her bits of “In My Life”, “A Heart Full of Love”, and “One Day More”. Barks looks and sounds so great in the part that even Tom Hooper couldn’t replace her with an A-list celebrity, and she went on to be probably the best part of the Les Mis movie, after which I’m still surprised she hasn’t become a bigger movie star. Then again, she’s well on her way to becoming a mainstay of the musical theatre world.
Musical theatre however, is not above stunt casting, which is why you get Nick Jonas as Marius among all these trained theatre performers. To be fair, it’s not like Jonas is a complete stranger to musical theatre and he’s a capable singer, but he’s clearly not on a level with the rest of the cast, which is particularly notable in his introduction alongside Karimloo. But he works well enough for Marius’ individual pieces with Cosette or “Empty Chairs and Empty Tables”, and is exactly the kind of young romantic pretty boy the part requires. But fitting in better is Matt Lucas as Thernadier, a comic part suiting a comic actor sure, but one that Lucas really went the extra mile for. I had no idea he could sing like he does in this show, and next to Jenny Galloway, reprising her role from fifteen years earlier, he seems right at home all through “Master of the House” and into the characters’ most malicious moments.
      But my favourite performer of the show was easily Norm Lewis as Javert. In what’s another probable best performance in the part, Lewis both captures the stern obsessive determination of the inspector and the internal struggle to remain true to his firm principles in light of evidence to the contrary in the values and actions of Valjean. This powerful stony exterior masking a subtle ethical turmoil beneath the surface is palpable in every number, and Lewis’ Javert is the first I’ve seen to truly outshine his Valjean. There’s even added layers to him being black and the compelling nature of his backstory. Lewis is also a really good singer, as most Broadway fans will tell you, but he has the perfect baritone for this part: his rendition of “Stars” is extraordinary.
As is the finale, gradually growing from intimate to immense, with the cast of hundreds all on stage, the chorus as is in the previous anniversary special all decked out in Les Mis merch, everyone encapsulating the spectacle of this musical epic. As with Phantom, the show itself was followed by a series of speeches and encores. It’s very curious of course that Cameron Mackintosh is the first to take centre stage and with a longer speech than that of the actual composers, Boublil and Schönberg -who follow him. But the real treat is a performance of “One Day More” by the original London cast -minus David Burt, the original Enjolras (allowing Karimloo one more chance in the spotlight), and Patti LuPone, who was the original (and superb) Fantine. I loved the song in the production itself, but this reprisal was better; the legacy cast, and especially Colm Wilkinson, Michael Ball, Frances Ruffelle, and Alun Armstrong, proving themselves as in sync with their parts as ever. This was followed by Wilkinson and Boe, along with other popular Valjeans John Owen-Jones and Simon Bowman singing “Bring Him Home” together, and I realize that the Phantom tribute the following year mostly just recycled the same structure for its encore. And of course both Karimloo and Wilkinson were involved in that one as well.
But so too were Hadley Fraser and Earl Carpenter. Because Fraser, who played Raoul in that show, turns up here as Grantaire, sharing all of his scenes with his future Phantom Karimloo (Fraser was actually known for playing Marius on stage, leading me to wonder if he was originally going to play the part here, but was snubbed for the star power of Nick Jonas). And Carpenter is in both shows as an early-appearing character of significance: the Auctioneer in Phantom and the Bishop in Les Mis. And these aren’t the only connections between this show and the other filmed musical productions I’ve watched this month. One of the other members of the Friends of the ABC is played by Alistair Brammer -Chris in Miss Saigon four years later; and another is Killian Donnelly, who would be Charlie in Kinky Boots some seven years later. No cast members from Jesus Christ Superstar show up, but of course Les Mis is performed in the same venue, the O2. I swear I didn’t intend it that way, but it’s rather fitting that all of the shows I watched this month would come together in this production, the earliest of them all, and probably my favourite (though I will concede Phantom is still the best filmed). 


It’s a nice bow to tie Musical Month up with, an experiment that I really enjoyed. It was great to finally see these musicals, some of which I’ve heard about and wanted to see for years. And there are still plenty left for me to get through -I know that musical theatre fans will find the absence of any Sondheim quite noticeable. I wish that more would be available in filmed form that the average person could see -especially again, during a pandemic. In continuation of a theme I seem to have found myself stuck in these past few days, musicals are really effective escapism, and they must be democratized to survive. High quality filmed recordings is a way to do that. And with musical theatre in dire straits right now with no guarantee when it’ll be able to bounce back, it may be for a time the only way to hear the people sing.

Support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/JordanBosch
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jordan_D_Bosch

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Disney's Mulan, Cultural Appropriation, and Exploitation

I’m late on this one I know. I wasn’t willing to spend thirty bucks back in September for a movie experience I knew was going to be far poorer than if I had paid half that at a theatre. So I waited for it to hit streaming for free to give it a shot. In the meantime I heard that it wasn’t very good, but I remained determined not to skip it entirely, partly out of sympathy for director Niki Caro and partly out of morbid curiosity. Disney’s live-action Mulan  I was actually mildly looking forward to early in the year in spite of my well-documented distaste for this series of creative dead zones by the most powerful media conglomerate on earth. Mulan  was never one of Disney’s classics, a movie extremely of its time in its “girl power” gender politics and with a decidedly American take on ancient Chinese mythology. It got by on a couple good songs and a strong lead, but it was a movie that could be improved upon, and this new version looked like it had the potential to do that, emphasizing

The Hays Code was Bad, Sex in Movies is Good

Don't Look Now (1973) Will Hays, Who Knows About Sex In 1930, former Republican politician and chair of the Motion Picture Association of America Will Hayes introduced a series of self-censorship guidelines for the movie industry in response to a mixture of celebrity scandals and lobbying from the Catholic Church against various ‘immoralities’ creating a perception of Hollywood as corrupt and indecent. The Hays Code, or the Motion Picture Production Code, was formally adopted in 1930, though not stringently enforced until 1934 under the auspices of Joseph Breen. It laid out a careful list of what was and wasn’t acceptable for a film expecting major distribution. It stipulated rules against profanity, the depiction of miscegenation, and offensive portrayals of the clergy, but a lot of it was based around sexual content: “sexual perversion” of any kind was disallowed, as were any opaquely textual or visual allusions to reproduction, and right near the top “No licentious or suggestiv

Pixar Sundays: The Incredibles (2004)

          Brad Bird was already a master by the time he came to Pixar. Not only did he hone his craft as an early director on The Simpsons , but he directed a little animated film for Warner Bros. in 1999, that though not a box office success was loved by critics and quickly grew a cult following. The Iron Giant is now among many people’s favourite animated movies. Likewise, Bird’s feature debut at Pixar, The Incredibles , his own variation of a superhero movie, is often considered one of the studio’s best. And for very good reason, as the most talented director at Pixar shows.            Superheroes were once the world’s greatest crime-fighting force until several lawsuits for collateral damage (and in the case of Mr. Incredible, a hilarious suicide prevention), outlawed their vigilantism. Fifteen years later Mr. Incredible, now living as Bob Parr, has a family with his wife Helen, the former Elastigirl. But Bob, in a combination of mid-life crisis and nostalgia for the old day