Les Misérables: REVIEW

It takes a minute before you realise they are going to be singing the whole way through and you consider faking a heart attack so you’ll be spirited away from the auditorium by a kindly paramedic. By the time you’ve reached for your chest you’ve been sucked in by Jackman’s prowess and when Hathaway sings ‘I have a dream’; which is easily one of the most majestic performances in living memory. Your spine is tingling and you’re sucking on your Coca Cola sobbing like a peasant girl on her plague riddled mothers teat. Sure Russell Crowe looks like a human teddy bear and he’s about as evil as a pocketful of rainbows but still you’re lapping it up and begging for more. 

Then it all goes horribly wrong. There’s a love story between a bunch of people you don’t care about who like shooting soldiers behind cardboard. You cry “ More Jean Valjean, more Jean Valjean!” but your pleas fall on deaf ears. You try and plough through it but the constant assault of tedious songs forces your body to slip into a self-induced coma in order to protect itself. By the time the usher arouses you with smelling salts it’s all got so preposterous you just wish Jackman would strip of his shirt and run towards the army slashing them to pieces with his adamantium claws. 

It all looks great. It’s well directed, well shot, well acted and Jackman and Hathaway are colossal but if a turd is covered in chocolate, It’s still a turd and unfortunately halfway through the story disintegrates into mush. 

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