In the vast playfield of musical adaptations, Tom Hooper’s “Les Misérables” version from 2012 differentiates itself with unparalleled ambition, carrying with it much controversy, evoking and igniting a wide range of reactions, from sheer adulation to cries of outrage. This divergence in audience and critical reception shows the film’s attempt to solve the problems in Victor Hugo’s narrative with an unusual new take on the musical’s storytelling method. The review by Philip French in The Observer is the most significant, as he commended the film for “that rare thing, of taking a musical not just to heart but also to the body,” alluding to the revolutionary on-set singing technique that indeed sets the film apart from conventional strategies of musical adaptation in cinema. Nonetheless, even as meritorious as it is, that is the point where this commendation also falls short. While Philip French—in his review for The Observer—expresses this by approving the film for “unusual power and colour,” crediting much of its success to the innovative on-set singing, my viewpoint both agrees and diverges from his views. I argue that while on-set singing does add a layer of authenticity and emotional depth, the execution of certain characters and scenes within the movie lacks the nuance and complexity that make the original musical profoundly impactful.
The performance technique of on-set singing, hailed by the critic Philip French in the adaptation of “Les Misérables” by Tom Hooper, had power and colour, but only after having made an unusual gamble to allow performances in films that, in turn, adds a rare power and colour. French observes that Tom Hooper’s filming with on-set singing resulted in a work of “unusual power and color” (French), a sentiment that underlines the benefits of the method in realizing the novelty and emotional power that it brings to the musical genre. However, the innovation, in all its merits, occasionally puts a damper on the film’s narrative coherence and character development. One of the best examples to illustrate this is in the opening scene, where the songs of the convicts are sung in time with the rhythmic pulling of the rope, followed by the lyrics of “Look Down Don’t look them in the eye” (Hooper), thus effectively illustrating the potential of on-set singing to represent the despair and exhaustion of the convicts with unparalleled immediacy. Yet, occasionally, this performance intensity comes at the expense of depth in the story and complexity in character. Scenes, where more subtle character-driven moments or nuanced dialogue could have more room to breathe, are often drowned out by the sheer spectacle of the live singing and not given their due importance for the narrative richness that is essential. While French rightly praises the visceral impact of on-set singing, his analysis doesn’t fully account for the trade-offs this approach entails, significantly how it could overshadow storytelling and character development so that the spectacle, though impressive, occasionally misses the depth and subtlety that define the original musical’s enduring appeal.
Philip French’s commendation of “Les Misérables” as sticking to the original and giving a grand cinematic execution seems undeniable; the movie shows a visual and auditory feast which perfectly puts into practice the highest majesty that Victor Hugo wanted his world to be represented with. French notes that it is “the best musical I’ve seen in many years,” overwhelmed from the start (French), a mark of the film’s power to make you sit through its length and then decide what you think about it. However, the rather impressive cinematic grandeur occasionally eclipses the nuanced character dilemmas and evolution, as portrayed by the screenplay. For example, there is a poignant moment in the movie depicting Jean Valjean’s turmoil with “If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned!” (Hooper) in an exquisite fashion and how such utterances flow over his inner conflict. This line strikes a chord in the heart of the film and plays poignantly on screen. But the screenplay digs deeper into Valjean’s psychological landscape, opening up greater exploration into the moral quandaries that torment him—a depth the film, in its grandiose presentation, sometimes tends to gloss over. French acknowledges the film’s many triumphs but seems to overlook how these cinematic choices can sometimes result in a surface-level portrayal of characters whose internal struggles and growth are central to the narrative’s impact. The visual and auditory splendour that encompass the grandeur of the film adds to its allure but cuts against the intricate character studies that structure the musical’s script. That may suggest that the film is too focused on its dazzling stage production, while it could still benefit from a more literal adaptation, which would realize a more realistic depiction of characterizations and develop character development in more of a sustained manner.
The portrayal of Paris and its underclass, praised by the French for its realism and adherence to historical paintings, will undoubtedly lend the film’s image authenticity. The film, however, glosses over the social injustices that were the sole aim of these visuals and criticisms of the film. French applauded the “wonderful period look that’s both stylized and realistic,” (French) concentrating on the utmost painstaking work that had gone into recreating that particular time. This then serves not only as a setting but becomes a character in its own right, retelling the silent stories of those who lived through a time of tumultuous change and palpable despair. The realism brought forth by the visual effects of the film is intended to place the audience in an era and make the historical context tangible. However, what is meant for more is the profound commentary on social inequality and the plight of the underprivileged—a theme that requires more than mere visual accuracy to convey its full impact. This is where the film’s aesthetic reliance seems to dilute the underlying narrative messages. The BEGGARS’ CHORUS: “At the end of the day you’re another day colder” (Hooper), for example, is a sense of gloom and despair that echoes the message of the cycle of poverty and despair of the lower strata through it. This is a deafening dissonance against the stunning opulence depicted in the series of flashy visuals that romanticize the film. Indeed, French has grounds for appreciating the film’s aesthetics, but it’s an easy potential distraction from the narrative’s critical engagement with themes of social injustice and poverty. Where Hugo’s vivid depiction of the underclass captures the visuality of its material condition, it often lacks the depth needed to offer a compelling exploration of the interrelated systemic issues critiqued in the novel, thus diminishing the power of the socio-political critique depicted in the film adaptation.
Overall, the discourse about Tom Hooper’s “Les Misérables” serves to underline that this musical, deeply intricate, will form the cinematic complexities to come along with the translated movie; hence, it is an essential factor that must be kept in mind when one wishes to arrive at the essence of an adaptation. I, as someone who has for long delved into both the discourse of Philip French’s review and the film, support that people, such as the viewers and critics, who come to this adaptation, should always come along with a nuanced lens. One has to be discerning when comparing where the film departs from or closely follows the screenplay. Through these comparisons, the narrative decisions and thematic priorities could be drawn from and given a broader meaning to understand the intent and effect of the adaptation. Critically engaging with the review and the film opens up an alternative to us about a more refined comprehension of “Les Misérables,” which focuses on celebrating the cinematic achievements of the movie while still identifying moments where this grand opus does not fully seize the profound complexity of its source material. This balanced perspective not only enriches our views regarding this film but also deepens our association with the broader narrative and thematic landscape that it wishes to inhabit.
Works Cited
French, Philip. “Les Misérables – Review.” The Observer, 13 Jan. 2013, www.theguardian.com/film/2013/jan/13/les-miserables-review-tom-hooper. Accessed 6 Apr. 2024.
Hooper, Tom. Les Misérables. 2012.
write