It is no secret, I was already a Les Miserables fan before our pastor assigned the movie as a homework assignment for his next sermon. I had seen it three times on the stage and then 7-8 more times on PBS when they aired the 10th and 25th anniversary productions. The first time I was in the 12th row dead center at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in Vancouver, where we were so close that we could see the spit coming out of the performers' mouths and smell the sweat of the students and soldiers after the revolt ended (okay maybe that was my imagination).
I had heard the best of Jean Valjean, Javert, Fantine, Eponine, Cosette, Marius (who can forget Nick Jonas) and the Thernardier's, and knew most of the songs by heart after listening to the soundtrack for more than 25 years. I had also seen two of the many movie productions of the book, had read the abridged version as a teen, and was in the process of reading Hugo's immense unabridged novel.
Yes, I was a fan and was nonetheless hesitant to pay $10 to see a bunch of Hollywood actors try to sing and act at the same time. It seemed like it would be the worst of both worlds; sub-par vocals and passable acting - hardly worth my time when I had seen the best of the best. Boy, was I wrong . . .
Tom Hooper's movie brought the story to life in a way that I had not anticipated. The movie was gritty and dark and rough; the emotions raw and believable. True, the vocals were not performed at the caliber of Broadway actors, and at times the close-ups and frantic movement seemed to be too much. But, never has the musical been performed with such emotion and realism. I was moved in a way that I had never experienced in my 25 years of being a Les Mis fan.
For me the Hooper interpretation brought out the darkness and desperation of the story in a way that perfect operatic voices in brightly colored costumes on a well-lit stage have never conveyed in the past. The music was always moving, but there was always such a distance from the performers and it all felt so . . . . well, staged.
While some might disagree, Hugh Jackman was the standout performer of the film as he made the redemption and transformation of Jean Valjean come to life. As he sang Valjean's Soliloquy, for the first time I really felt the amazement Jean Valjean experienced when he was treated as a human, not an animal; his shame when he realized how far he had fallen; his gratitude when he did not receive the penalty for his crime against Bishop Bienvenue. My heart broke as he barely croaked out:
"One word from him and I'd be back,
beneath the lash upon the rack,
and yet he offers me my freedom,
I feel my shame inside me like a knife.
He told me that I have a soul,
how does he know?
What spirit comes to move my life?
Is there another way to go?"
I can still picture the look in his eyes and hear the desperation of his cry. And while his vocal renditions of "Who Am I" and "Bring Him Home" don't quite compare to the careful control of Colm Wilkinson or Alfie Boe, they did convey the depth of emotion and wonder that Hugo artfully described.
It could be that the impact was heightened because of what we've been studying in our Discipleship Group - the basics of the Christian Faith - what it means to be a disciple and how to practically apply the truths of theology. We had just gotten through the chapters on sin, grace, and redemption. I had been reminded - as every Christian needs to be reminded - that "we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," and "it is by grace you have been saved," and "while we were yet sinners, Christ died." As these themes were fresh on my mind, it was easier to identify how Hugo's masterpiece communicated those truths - whether or not that was his intention - and how they clearly applied to me.
It is easy to believe that my sin is not as great as Valjean's, that my choices are not as devastating as Fantine's, and my desire to "do the right thing" is more purely motivated than Javert's. The truth is that I am no different than any of these characters. If my life story were made into a musical, it wouldn't be a pretty picture filled with lilting harmonies. I am broken, my relationship with God and others is broken, and my motivations are not always pure. I deserve punishment and yet God reaches down to show me grace in ways that go beyond Valjean's experience with the Christ-like Bishop.
Unlike Valjean, I don't need to look behind me at every step, wondering if my bad choices of the past will catch up with me. As a Christian I am not pursued by the arm of justice, I am pursued by the God of love. I am forgiven, redeemed, brought into right relationship by the blood of Christ that covers me. But often I forget that and try to make my way on my own.
Like Valjean, who could have admitted his need by asking for a piece of bread or silver rather than stealing them, I have to stop relying on myself and my own efforts. I am in daily need of God's grace to keep me from self-righteous independence. The transformation that comes from relying on the Holy Spirit is deeper and more permanent than anything my own efforts can accomplish, and certainly more life-changing than the "good works" of Jean Valjean.
Back to Les Miserables - I could go on and on about the performance of Ann Hathaway, Russell Crowe, Samantha Barks, and others. Some of them were great, some just good, and some not so good. But the bottom line for me is that this version of Les Miserables actually made a profound impact on me - despite its imperfections. Sometimes perfection gets in the way when trying to communicate the incredible truth of God's grace.
