I saw Les
Miserables on Broadway as part of a class trip in sixth grade. There are
three observations I’d like to make after seeing Tom Hooper’s new film
adaptation, with a screenplay by William Nicholson, of the stage musical. The first is that I’m surprised a public
school took eleven-year olds to a play that features prostitution, suicide as a
means of atoning for lack of mercy, and the innuendo-laced number “Master of
the House.” The second is that the show must have made quite an impression on
me because, although I only saw it that once, I have several vivid memories of
the staging of certain scenes. The final observation, and the most noteworthy,
is that it is a damn fine musical. It’s got some riveting numbers, many of them
as emotionally moving as anything in the history of great musicals. Yes, it
occasionally suffers from one of my biggest pet peeves about some musicals:
lyrics that narrate action. But as in the great tradition of opera, Les Miserables is a sung-through show
with hardly any spoken dialogue. When it’s on point, however, as in the songs
that focus on the expression of deep emotion, it is thrilling and moving.
