Os Implacáveis

To begin with, I doubt that most people realize that Victor Hugo's Les Miserables is not a two hundred to four hundred page novel. It is a thirteen hundred page novel (in English translation as well as the original French). This actually puts it into the same category as those other classic that most people never read: "The Bible" (both testaments together), "Don Quixote", "War and Peace", "Clarissa Harlowe", "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire", "The Count of Monte Cristo". Everyone knows stories or chunks of most of these books (except for Richardson's "Clarissa", which is not popular these days due to it's epistolary style). Few read them to get an idea of their full impact. It is sobering to realize that humongous novels by Dickens and Thackeray and George Eliott, like "Bleak House, "Pendennis", or "Middlemarch", are shorter (roughly 800 pages each) than these seven earlier titles that I mention. That means one is more likely to be willing to read "Middlemarch" (a thoughtful but difficult study of provincial life in 1832 England), than "The Count of Monte Cristo" (with it's fast paced and exciting tale of power, greed, and revenge in post-Napoleonic France.

In it's full range, "Les Miserables" was a probing attack on the greed and social evil rampant in France from 1815 to 1832 (the beginning of the so-called "July " or Orleans Monarchy. However I warn you that if you read it you will find it annoying after awhile. You will remain sympathetic towards Valjean, protecting little Cosette who he raises as his daughter, and saving Marius (although he would as soon Cosette never saw Marius again). And you will also dislike Javert, his adversary - the perfect police official. But you will find Hugo expounding questionable views on criminals. Not all the poor are criminals, but after reading Hugo one gets the impression that if they aren't they are fools. For all the defects of Louis Phillippe's July Monarchy, it gave France prosperity and peace for nearly two decades. But to Hugo it was a criminal throwback to the barbarism of the Bourbons - France did not need monarchs, it was a republic and a democracy. For most of his life Hugo attacked "royalism" in all its guises in France, culminating in his years in exile in opposition to the Second Empire of Napoleon III (1851 - 1870 - the period that Hugo wrote "Les Misearbles" in). Oddly enough he never really attacks the first Napoleon. Read the chapters on the Battle of Waterloo in "Les Miserables" and it is almost a regrettable valentine to the little Corsican. Interestingly enough, when the Paris Commune burned much private property in 1871 (before being put down by French troops assisted by German troops), Hugo suddenly ceased being so admiring about the lowest level of the poor - after all they burned some of his property too.

Trimmed of much of it's literary weight it makes a dandy little over-the-years thriller, and it has been filmed many times. The best one I remember was a French version from 1956 with Jean Gabin as Valjean (and actually he was physically closer to the poor ex convict than March was). But it was three and a half hours long, so I suspect that this one will have to do. It keeps the main threads of the story together, and performances by March, Laughton, Florence Eldritch (as Fantine), and others are excellent. Even Leonid Kinski as one of March's former convict friends gives a chilling little moment just by saying "Hello Jean" in a courtroom. So watch it, the best normal length movie version. And then put aside a month for reading the original novel (and then plan similar time schemes for those other unread classics I just listed - It will occupy you for about a year and a half or so).

Jean Valjean (Frederick March) steals a loaf of bread to feed his sister's children and is sent to prison for ten years. Prison degrades him and he completes his term a broken and, possibly insane, man. While in prison, one of the guards, Javert (Charles Laughton), takes note of Val jean's remarkable strength. Javert is more obviously unstable - he is obsessed with the rigid enforcement of the law, in denial of his past (his parents were criminals. Confused, depressed, and very fearful, Valjean ventures into his parole with questionable intentions. But he is soon taken in by a very kindly Bishop who bends the truth in order to protect Jean from himself and the police. Explaining himself, the priest tells Jean that 'Life is to give, not to take'. This single act, and the priest's words, set Valjean upon a path of service and honor which requires him to reinvent himself. In Act 2, we meet him in the person of Mssr. Madeline, a successful and well-loved businessman who is being asked to run for mayor in the small town he has done so much for. Complicating matters, Javert has been appointed to head the local constabulary.

Through all three parts of this epic story, Valjean is pursued by his former captor, whether by circumstance or obsessive intent. This is the central conflict of the story, but the depth and elements of the conflict truly hinge upon a non-participant third-party. Valjean/Madeline meets Cosette, a good-hearted but more-or-less orphan child whose plight reminds him of his sister's children and deeply touches his heart. He reunites Cosette and her mother, giving them both a good home for the mother's final weeks. After she passes, he essentially adopts Cosette. The love that develops between Cosette and Jean, that of a father and daughter, saves them both. Perhaps this love will eventually save the incorrigible and obsessed Javert.

Les Miserables is written with extremely powerful characterization, from a deeply Catholic/Christian perspective, though it is not an evangelical work. Although none of the characters are stereotypes, archetypes, or caricatures, the central conflict is not one of men, but rather one of faith. Javert perfectly represents faith in the laws of men, the Bishop reflects the laws of his god, and Valjean must resolve the inevitable conflicts between the two both internally and externally. The ethics of Les Miserables is, in contrast to the opinion of one popular review, far from 'situational.' It would be much better described as 'subtle', complex, and very carefully considered. The simple message is that law is no substitute for justice.

Victor Hugo's Les Miserables is probably my favorite novel of all time. While leaving whole episodes of this massive tome out, the unfortunately short-lived Richard Boleslawski's 1935 film captures more than just the essence and spirit of the book and is not a Reader's Digest condensation or a "Cliff Notes" version. The W.P. Lipscomb script is perfectly economical and Boleslawski wisely relied on Gregg Tolland's spectacular camera work to tell more of the story than the dialog. Despite the difficulty of distilling a 1000+ page, relatively dense French novel into a film of slightly over 1.5 hours, the director made the camera responsible for conveying a great deal of information about the story and the characters . The casting is also quite perfect. March and Laughton are tremendous in what may be the apex of their collaborative efforts. I was also impressed by the performances in a few of the minor roles - Cedric Hardwicke (the Bishop) and Frances Drake (Eponine) especially.

All considered, this film should appeal to those who appreciate mature, intelligent, morality plays spiced up with a bit of adventure, and those who are looking for a good film version of the classic novel.

Directed by Richard Boleslawski. Starring Fredric March, Charles Laughton, Rochelle Hudson, John Beal, Marilyn Knowlden, Cedric Hardwicke, Florence Eldridge, Frances Drake.

Notable adaptation of Victor Hugo's novel scrupulously creates the world and story of Jean Valjean (March), making numerous successful and fitting changes to the source material for a far less cluttered journey. Still suffers from stuffy sectionalization, reducing Fantine's (Eldridge) purpose to little more than an extended cameo, but in excising much of the fat and combining interests for the sake of clear storytelling, the filmmakers keep it all moving at a mostly steady clip. Only the middling love story in the final act stumbles, primarily because Hudson (as grown-up Cosette) is such a bore. March is rock solid as Valjean; Laughton superb as obsessed inspector Javert (even if the disparity in appearance can be distracting). That's John Carradine in a bit part as student protester Enjorlas.

78/100

So stealing a loaf of bread gets you years in a squalid prison, rowing a galley with a thousand other poor souls that never goes anywhere. Some justice. And if you miss a parole appearance, you get a monomaniacal cop named Javert who has no life other than chasing you down. So, if you're like Val Jean, wouldn't you get mean and anti-social too. And when invited out of a storm by a priest, no less, it's only natural that Val Jean looks to steal what he can. But then, a funny thing happens. When the cops bring him back with the stolen goods, the priest gets him off the hook by saying the stolen candlesticks were a gift. It's an act of mercy, something the law has never shown him. Now Val Jean sees that life might be lived in a kinder, gentler way. And when he leaves and comes to the literal and figurative fork-in-the-road, he remembers the words of humane wisdom given him by the priest. Traveling in a new direction, he becomes the good man he has always been, waiting to be brought out. Now, if only he could get that merciless cop off his trail, life would be good.

Fine dramatization of Hugo's great plea for social reform in 19th century France. I wonder what our own Depression era audiences saw in the story, given the oppressive conditions of the 1930's. March is compelling as the reborn Val Jean, while Laughton makes for an unforgettably quirky Javert. But I wonder too, what would change if the aristocratically handsome March played Javert, with the very unphotogenic Laughton as Val Jean. That would challenge our comfortable stereotypes and make for a more interesting and humane message. Then too it's unfortunate that someone in production felt the audience wouldn't get the spiritual message without being hit over the head with heavenly choirs and light beams from above. I guess that was done for box-office returns. But too often Hollywood has reduced the profound to the hokey, thereby corrupting the message and turning spirituality into a mere matter of stage craft. Nonetheless, the moral remains a telling one, as relevant now as it was 70 or even 170 years ago. Law exists only on paper, while justice—as they say—dwells in the human heart. It is not a truth Javert, the slavish servant of the state, can live with. Hugo was not only a great writer, but a very good man, as well.

Although you would not think so from reading some of the reviews here, the 1935 film version of "Les Miserables" is excellent and one of the best film versions of the novel, especially considering its 108 minute length. It is too much to ask a film that lasts a little less than two hours to pack in all the important incidents in a book that consists of more than 1,000 pages. No film has ever been able to do that, and three-hour American films, except for a couple of D.W. Griffith features, were virtually unheard of before 1936 (the year that "The Great Ziegfeld" was released).

Fredric March gives one of his finest performances as Jean Valjean---far better than Michael Rennie's pallid one in the 1952 remake-- and his voice reminds one not of Jimmy Stewart, but of John Barrymore, an actor to whom March was often compared to in his early days. Although he seems to be on the verge of overemoting once or twice, he can also be quite subtle and sardonic (just watch him in the scenes in which he implies that Javert has no idea of how to temper justice with mercy, or his performance in the scene in which he first meets Cosette at the inn). March, now virtually forgotten by today's younger generation, was easily one of the best actors of the twentieth century, whether on stage or screen, It is a pity that he never felt inclined to act in a Shakespeare play or film, a decision he himself came to regret.

Charles Laughton is equally as good as the vicious, single-minded, and in this version at least, neurotic Inspector Javert. Laughton's small touches, far from making his performance seem hammy, vividly illustrate the personality of a man so ashamed of his own parentage that he cannot bear to talk about it without seeming to be about to break into tears. If it had not been for his brilliant Captain Bligh in "Mutiny on the Bounty", released the same year as "Les Miserables", Laughton would almost certainly have been nominated for his performance as Javert.

John Beal and Rochelle Hudson are adequate as the lovers, although Beal is hardly anyone's idea of a sexy, dashing young man. Hudson's performance is infinitely preferable to the awful one given by the beautiful Debra Paget (best remembered as Joshua's love interest in "The Ten Commandments") in the 1952 remake of "Les Miserables". Eponine in this version is not portrayed as a prostitute, probably because of the censorship restrictions of that time, and Gavroche is completely eliminated from this version. Cedric Hardwicke, in a very small role, is fine if a little too syrupy, as the bishop who aids Valjean after he is released from prison.

The legendary Gregg Toland's photography is excellent, and the scenes in which Valjean serves in the galleys are frighteningly realistic for a major Hollywood film of this era (the scene in which March is beaten and begins screaming in pain is profoundly disturbing, and it recurrs later on in a nightmare).

The 1935 "Les Miserables" easily eclipses all later versions in English, and still stands as one of the best Hollywood versions of a literary masterpiece.