Les misérables

"Les Miserables" (1933): This film on DVD comes in three parts, totaling 279 minutes. Audiences were appreciative of long, complex stories. They didn't need everything stated and resolved in 22 minutes. They had an attention span. This is THE definitive interpretation of Victor Hugo's novel. The photography is flawlessly inventive and artistic. The scoring is everything from subtle to emotional and sweeping. The story is, of course, HUGE. Like other authors of that time, the use of irony was a major, and wonderful, device (no, it is not an invention of 1990s films). DO expect IT to expect YOU to keep up. The acting is all over the map, from superb and aware, to stiff and overstated (from the only-then-dying silent film era). The set room sets and costumes are great, the landscapes & "cityscapes sometimes contrived as flat sets. This film, like All Quiet on the Western Front, are must-see examples of what powerful, early film making can be.

I got my first glimpse of the 1934 version while watching the 1995 adaptation with Jean-Paul Belmondo. The clips to which we are treated there intrigued me and after considerable rooting around the internet I managed to obtain a copy on video (to the best of my knowledge it has never been released in Britain). I was not disappointed. This is quite the fullest and most satisfying cinematic version of Hugo's extraordinary tale yet produced. Some may find the running time of around four and a half hours quite daunting, but I found that I hardly noticed the time pass. The reasons for its success are manifold. Firstly the detail and therefore the strength of the original are largely retained. Characters are properly fleshed out, and just as in the original we feel we share the characters' lives and get to know and care about them. The depth and number of characters are not sacrificed to considerations of time and commerce. Although some of the photography appears dated by modern standards, Raymond Bernard's literate script and direction are stimulating and advance the narrative at a steady pace (despite the impression created by the running time). He is masterful in the creation of atmosphere in both intimate and crowd scenes. For example the film is quite spectacular in its depiction of the 1832 uprising, yet it is deeply moving in the scenes involving Valjean and the Bishop. The music (by Arthur Honegger) has great dignity and is entirely apt to the tenor of the film and the themes it embraces. However, if the real strength of the piece is in the depth and conviction of its characters, their cinematic success is due in no short measure to the quality of the acting. Fantine (Josseline Gael) is perhaps a little melodramatic for modern tastes, and Javert (Charles Vanel) lacks a truly tragic quality, but all told the performances are faithful to the original and convincing, and none more so than Harry Baur as Valjean. His immense physical presence and slow, controlled delivery, combined with his ability to express his inner feelings with little more than a look or a moment's hesitation command our respect and sympathy, making him the perfect incarnation of the tormented but determined Valjean. It wreaks sincerity and a genuine desire to transfer not just the story, but the spirit of the original onto the big screen.

Generally considered the best, most complete version of Victor Hugo's novel ever produced, I think I'm finally convinced that I just don't like this story all that much. Oh, don't get me wrong, it has its share of remarkable moments, and, all in all, it's quite a good film. The thing I've noticed with the various adaptations I've seen of it is that I'm with it up until Cosette grows up, then I kind of check out. Almost all the best parts of the story happen in the first half. This version is divided into three feature length films. The first one is by far the best, covering up to the point Fantine dies and Jean Valjean escapes to go rescue Cosette. This hits all the most important themes, particularly the horrible way society treats the destitute. The second section, entitled "The Thenardiers," after the innkeepers who have enslaved Cosette, is great at the start. Charles Dullin is amazing as Thenardier, and Gaby Triquet is so damned adorable as the child Cosette. Cosette as a teenager is fairly uninteresting, and her love interest, Marius, is a completely dull character. The third part covers the revolution portion of the novel, and, frankly, outside of Gavroche (wonderfully played by Emile Genevois), I just don't care about any of it. Jean Valjean is almost superfluous until the final act (the finale here is definitely quite moving). Harry Baur is an amazing Jean Valjean (he also plays Champmathieu, the man wrongly accused of being Valjean in the first part). Charles Vanel is fine as Javert, but the character is kind of dull in this version. Bernard's direction is frequently outstanding and the cinematography is excellent.

I came across this by accident, broadcast over 3 nights on TV - I recorded it, and watched the whole thing without being able to leave the sofa. It is the best movie I've ever seen.

4½ hours long, subtitled black-and-white Victor Hugo epic doesn't sound appealing, or only to 'art house' fans, but not so ... if you ever get a chance to see it, do!

The acting is tremendous, as is the cinematography. Certain visual moments are forever imprinted on my mind, such as the moment when a helping hand comes out of nowhere to help the collapsed Cosette, or the moment when a nun, sworn to always tell the truth, lies to protect the protagonist, Jean Valjean.

It is a superb retelling, and remains the best version of this classic novel. What makes it even more poignant is how themes in the movie were reflected in the real lives of the actors. Harry Baur, who plays the lead - a man falsely imprisoned and whom is relentless pursued through the film - lost his life a few years later at the hand of the Gestapo for being suspected of aiding the resistance, and Gaby Triquet (the young Cosette) was shamed and blacklisted for having an affair with a German soldier and never worked again.

I've seen a few 1930s features, and while enjoying them, would not expect others to sit through them. Not this! It is everything a good movie is about - superbly crafted, mesmerising to watch, and leaves you seeing the world slightly differently afterwards. I've never seen better.

Hugo's novel is my bible. I remember, while I was reading the books in the course of over one year (in small portions mostly, but not rarely I had to sacrifice an entire night), one of the three volumes has been always in a striking distance to me: near my pillow, riding pillion, on my school desk or in my backpack on trips and sleep-overs. Simply put, the story was my home for that one year, Jean Valjean one of my closest friends and Cosette my own child. That's now about 10 years ago and I still return to it every once in a while, pick randomly chapters to read and still am drawn to Hugo's uniquely beautiful and powerful language (i.e. the chapter where he describes the battle of Waterloo is probably the single best piece of literature I've ever read). So, although, I love the book so much, I never dared to touch any screen adaptation, and there are plenty out there, because I did not want to ruin my imaginations of Les misérables I had in my mind for more than 10 years now. I finally did last week and what can I say? Actually, I don't want to spout too much, to run into danger to talk things to death, but it's an amazing, amazing experience when you see those pictures that were engraved in your head for a long time, now alive, in front of your eyes instead of behind. Of course, a book is, I guess, always more stimulating than its adaptation (are there actually any examples to disprove?), and Bernard's is no exception. In fact, this one is as close to the essence of literature as the medium can get. Everything that can be great about movies comes together here, and in the end, Les misérables is the first film I immediately felt home (which is mostly due to the previous history I have with the story), and when a filmmaker achieves exactly this with his very own methods, like a writer does with his/hers, the outcome is nothing less than, yes, cinematic perfection.