I Blogged a Blog of Flicks Gone By

I've kicked off 2013 with plenty of movie watching -- 26 films in January -- but not much blogging so far. Deservedly, I have been getting grief for lack of posts, in one case simply because the poster for Bad Taste keeps popping up as the flipboard image. So, for Greg, here's a picture of a kitteh:

http://filmmakeriq.com/2013/01/les-meowserables/

A good portion of my movie month was consumed with watching and discussing various adaptations of Victor Hugo's novel. It's unfortunate I don't have a streaming live audio feed of my numerous libation-fueled rants to plug directly into the blog. Maybe someone with more tech prowess than I can show me how to do that. Although, on second thought, the background yelling would probably render that unlistenable.

Full confession, although I played highlights from The Miserables: The Musical in high school band I have not seen the full stage show. For a while I was convinced the entire show was fabricated as elaborate faux-celebratory special for PBS to air during pledge drives and that a full show never really existed. Ok, I was wrong.

The novel itself is a daunting tome so if I was going to familiarize myself with the story I needed to do some research. Luckily, I tracked down a copy of one of the first filmed adaptations of the novel, a French version directed by Raymond Bernard in 1933-34 -- It was released under Criterion's Eclipse sub-label, before that it was hard to find. Until I have a year to sit down and read the novel I can't directly attest to Bernard's unwavering faithfulness to the source material, but I can asssure you that this is the version to see. For full disclosure, I recognize the possible cons in recommending this to others: (1) it's in French with subtitles which will (ironically) make some people turn up their noses like a snooty Frenchman; and (2) it runs just short of 5 hours. The length and pacing are crucial, though, and it is split into 3 distinct sections so it plays like miniseries.

Most importantly, Harry Baur is the Jean Valjean. He has the hulking size and look to be believable as criminal who could win a World's Strongest Man competition -- no offense to Wolverine -- and he has the acting chops to handle the delicate scenes with amazing tenderness.

He also plays Champmathieu with great hammy aplomb, showing range in a "twin" role that Haley Mills never managed. (As an aside into real life, Baur was arrested and tortured by the Gestapo during WWII. I suspect they never saw this scene. He was eventually released but, sadly, died a few days later.)

The Bernard version benefits from his subtle direction and visual style full of quaintly skewed angles. Baur is the main attraction, but he is aided by colorful performances by the entire cast, notably an extremely complex, dastardly but almost compassionate Javert (Charles Vanel), truly despicable Thénardiers (avec Charles Dulle et Marguerite Moreno) and the most impish Gavroche imaginable (Émile Genevois). Ultimately, I really felt moved by the breadth and depth of the film, the themes of redemption and forgiveness, the mixture of tragedy and triumph. It is nothing short of a masterpiece, a feeling that was reinforced by viewings of subsequent adaptations.

I quickly forged ahead, taking in two early Hollywood adaptations (see below) before tackling the recent "Glee"-ification of the story. My feeling of the Tom Hooper 2012 effort is generally positive, but there were some foibles. Much has already been said and written about the mixed response to its live-singing/acting experiment, and I agree that the results ranged from exceptional (Anne Hathaway and Samantha Barks) to adequate (Hugh Jackman) to excruciating (Russell Crowe and Eddie Redmayne). While I have been informed that "I Dreamed a Dream" was shifted from after Fantine's firing until later in her life's downward spiral, which upset some people, it has such raw emotional resonance that it is hands-down one of the most memorable scenes of the film year. I think the lady behind me was still crying about it 20 minutes later. (This is not hyperbole. I almost pulled one of these.)

Rowr.

Eponine's unrequited-love storyline is also a favorite of mine, and Samantha Barks is truly heartbreaking. (Also pretty smokin'.) The beauty and scope of the cinematography was breathtaking at times, but often hampered by some overused sweeps of CGI, headache-inducing handheld work, and small technical oddities and oversights, such as few stray out-of-focus close-ups. Adding to the distraction were accents that shift from French to British to Australian, probably not very common during the French Revolution. They squeeze all of the songs in and even wrote a new one for the movie, but as it runs overlong and the pacing drags they probably could have tightened things up by excising "Suddenly" and trimming a few others. (I know, I know...but it sounds as though purists are upset anyway.) All in all, a pretty solid experience, but not without its faults.

So, to recap and score the versions I've seen
#1 - dir. Raymond Bernard (1933/34) 98

...(look down)

...(look down)

#2 - dir. Tom Hooper (2012) 69

#3 - dir. Richard Boleslawski (1935) 65
Points for Charles Laughton as Javert, but I've never been much of a fan of Fredric March (Valjean) and they inserted some bad storylines, like sending Valjean to the be a galley slave while Javert cracks the whip. Depression-era themes fit with the story, but get sledgehammered home without subtlety.

#4 - dir. Lewis Milestone (1952) 50
Basically a remake of the 1935 script, with all of its inherent faults and even worse dialogue. Michael Rennie and Robert Newton make a fairly insufferable pair as Valjean and Javert, and things start to get muddy fast after the scene with the bishop (the always-great Edmund Gwenn): they turn Valjean into a potter, Thénardiers are excised altogether, and (spoiler!) Fantine gets to see Cosette before she dies! Ugh. No. Just...no.

There are about a half-dozen more versions that I eventually need to check out. I just found TIME's top 10 list of Les Miz adaptations and am happy to see they generally agree with my assessment, placing Bernard's work at the top of the heap. Vindication!

Oh, wait. I almost forgot about a version that easily takes over the #2 spot:



Excellent. "Bitten in Zee Butt" is now stuck in my head. And damn, Bernadette Peters is amazing on so many levels. That's all, folks!