Guess where I went last night? To see the film currently sweeping the board for Oscar nominations – Les Miserables.
Mrs B was ecstatic; she would have walked to the Odeon in Leicester Square to get those tickets.
Seemed like the entire town turned up at Cinemac. I was wondering at one point if the Heritage Centre might collapse from excitement.
If you have seen the film you are now excused and may skip to births, deaths and marriages. I shall trouble you no further. If, however, you are bereft at missing such a devastatingly beautiful cinematic masterpiece stick with me.
Basically Les Mis is about a guy named Jean Valjean (I think his mother wanted a girl) who steals a loaf of bread for which he’s sentenced to 15 years hard labour dragging ships the size of Titanic into dry dock with a rope.
At the end of his sentence all Jean has to do to remain free is report to his probation officer but he can’t be arsed. (Some people never learn.)
This irritates the hell out of Russell Crowe, who quits his gladiatorial duties to hunt him down.
Turned away from every door Jean (AKA Val) is about to expire from starvation and exposure when a kindly monk offers him sanctuary, which he repays by stealing everything of value in the monastery. (Obviously 15 years hard labour wasn’t long enough.) Now somewhere along the line our man loses his marbles and keeps asking: ‘Who am I?’
Saddled with such feminine names he was clearly suffering some form of identity crisis. Regardless of his mental state he becomes father to an orphaned child (the adoption process in France is seriously flawed.)
I did however notice, they were extracting teeth from young ladies and paying them for the privilege which is a far cry from the NHS who won’t lift a set of pliers for less than £30.
Our hero then takes part in a revolution for which no one (except the French Army) turns up and is lucky to escape with his wretched life.
A young street urchin sings a delightful little song about a puppy, which I quite enjoyed but the soldiers didn’t and shot him.
Jean Valjean dies on his daughter’s wedding day.
Russell Crowe throws himself off a bridge AND it never stops raining.
That’s about it. Enjoy!
(Can’t see it doing a lot for French tourism.)
