Despite the fact that he's been dead for a hundred years, Victor
Hugo is hotter than ever. Ever since his career-reviving upturn
in Disney's musical version of Hunchback of Notre Dame,
Victor Hugo's name has been tossed around Hollywood cocktail parties
as the hottest screen property since that William Shakespeare
guy. Now comes a feature film version of Hugo's greatest work,
Les Misérables. Danish director Bille August (Pelle
the Conqueror) and prolific American novelist Rafael Yglesias
(who adapted his own novel for the Jeff Bridges/Rosie Perez film
Fearless) have sculpted a concise and immensely satisfying
version of Hugo's epic tale.
Liam Neeson is Hugo's protagonist, Jean Valjean. The backdrop
is early 19th-century France. The story picks up as Valjean has
just been released from prison after 20 years for the unpardonable
crime of stealing a loaf of bread. A fateful encounter with a
kindly country bishop and a surprising act of forgiveness sends
the hard-bitten Valjean off on a new course. The story then jumps
to 1822 when a reinvented (and rechristened) Valjean finds himself
the humble and hardworking mayor of a booming French town called
Vigau. Following the bishop's example from years earlier, Valjean
shows compassion and wisdom to all around him. Fate steps back
into Valjean's life, however, in the form of two portentous events.
Fantine (Uma Thurman), a worker with "loose morals"
(she has had a child out of wedlock), is fired from Valjean's
brick factory. At the same time, Javert (Geoffrey Rush), a new
police inspector, is posted to the growing metropolis.
Javert, as fate would have it, was one of Valjean's jailers in
the harsh labor camp he inhabited for two decades. The inscrutable
inspector recognizes Valjean but cannot prove he is actually the
long-lost parole jumper. Meanwhile, having lost her job at the
factory, Fantine turns to prostitution. One night, she receives
a beating at the hands of the cruel Javert and is discovered by
Valjean. Now fully apprised of, and appropriately mortified by,
his casual firing of the girl, Valjean takes the sickly Fantine
under his wing. Despite Valjean's love and attention, Fantine's
health deteriorates rapidly, and she makes Valjean promise to
raise her estranged young daughter Cosette as his own.
Forced out of his shell of lies when another convict is captured
and branded as Valjean the breadthief, the respected mayor of
Vigau admits his true identity. Javert now has the ammunition
he needs to arrest Valjean, but the wily ex-con is one step ahead.
Valjean locates Cosette and absconds to Paris to raise the girl.
Again, Valjean reinvents himself--and, again, he finds himself
hunted by the unstoppable Javert.
Whereas an American director would have filled the screen with
glossy vistas and pretty costumes, the European-bred August creates
a gritty, believable view of early 19th-century life. Among the
eye-for-detail elements, savvy set dressers have covered the picturesque
streets of Paris with heaps of horse dung. August's Revolutionary-era
Paris looks, feels and even smells accurate. The script, meanwhile,
manages to shed some of the subplots and a few minor characters.
Politics have been sidelined in favor of human drama. Hardcore
fans of the musical or literary versions may find themselves upset.
Most others, though, will probably be quite impressed with the
tight adaptation and still shining impact of Hugo's work. Les
Misérables is one of the greatest epic novels of all
time, and Yglesias' script remains reverent to the tone of Hugo's
redemptive tale.
Neeson and Rush are a well-matched pair, going toe-to-toe with
each other from start to finish. Neeson gives a brilliant, multi-layered
performance, and Rush keeps his character from falling too deeply
into cartoonish villainy. His Javert is simply a man who adheres
far too rigidly to his beloved system of rules and laws. In the
end, when he becomes obsessed with finding Valjean after a lifetime
of failure, his descent into lawlessness is quite believably executed.
Thurman is well-cast (I daresay typecast) as the pretty and sickly
looking love interest. Claire Danes (as the teenaged Cosette)
is the weakest link in the acting chain here. Though effective,
her role seems to demonstrate the limits of Danes' acting talents
(of which crying on cue seems to be the primary talent). As in
Romeo + Juliet, you can pass the time by counting the number
of times Danes gets her jaw to quiver spasticly before bursting
into tears.
This newest adaptation (the third) of Les Misérables
is far from perfect. It's not a passionate soul-shaker, and a
late-arriving love story between Cosette and a hunky revolutionary
seems too squarely aimed at Danes' Romeo + Juliet fanbase.
Still, the filmmakers have created a moving historical drama with
an unmistakable literary pedigree behind it and none of Hollywood's
splashy, phony glamour in front of it. Somebody better sign this
Victor Hugo guy to a three-picture deal--and quick!