Beyond the Barricade: Observations and Thoughts on the Opening Night Performance of Les Miserables – March 23, 2014

Les Miserables is my all time favorite musical that I’ve seen live on stage – the score boasts a multitude of sweeping soliloquies, soaring anthems and heartbreaking duets, all of which help emote a story of the indomitability of the human spirit. A newly re-imagined production has returned home to the Imperial Theatre (though technically speaking, its original home was at the Broadway Theatre, but the bulk of its initial run at the Imperial, where there is a commemorative plaque outside its threshold), the second (and hopefully final) revival of this timeless classic, which opened last night to thunderous applause. By sheer luck and determination, I was able to attend the opening night performance, and marked the first time I was able to do so.

Les Miserables 2014

There had been a Facebook contest for opening night tickets (which I did not win), and a few tickets available at the box office on the day of – by the time I had reached the Imperial Theatre a considerable line had formed, and only the first few were able to obtain tickets, at which point one of the box office personnel announced that the performance was sold out. There was even a sign posted stating that fact.

Opening night sold out  sign

Despite the announcement and the sign, I was determined to wait it out with the hopes of obtaining a ticket. Over the years, I’ve learned that “sold out” doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s truly sold out, especially when it’s announced verbally or visually – there’s always the possibility of last-minute cancellations, patrons showing up with a spare ticket (their theatergoing companion unable to attend for a variety of reasons) or more times than not, there’s sometimes an empty single seat, as most tickets are bought in pairs (or multiples thereof). It was the latter option I was hoping was the case for the Opening night performance, which often is “released” (i.e. available to purchase albeit at full price) at a half hour before show time. So I stuck around the Imperial (only taking an hour or so break to meet with a friend for lunch) watching as the opening night barricades and banners were being set up (also spotting a lone local news cameraman film exterior shots of the theatre). There were also barricades set up across the street where fans who didn’t have tickets could stand to witness and take photos of the Opening night red carpet (though technically speaking there was no actual red carpet rolled out), while the press were positioned closer to the theater. As show time drew closer, and a small crowd began to gather, I headed back into the box office area inquiring if there were any cancellation tickets available – for a while, the answer was negative, but I remained by the cancellation line area. About fifteen minutes before show time, one of the box office personnel mentioned that there might be a single ticket available, and they were going to confirm (with whomever they needed to) whether that single ticket could be sold. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but with this sliver of hope I remained where I was, missing out on viewing the various notable theatre actors walking the (invisible) red carpet.


The red carpet backdrop

The red carpet backdrop

Literally five minutes before show time (or at least the announced show time, as shows typically start about ten minutes after the stated time on the ticket), the green light was lit and I was able to obtain that single seat, albeit at full price. I was overwhelmed by the notion that I would actually be at a first (!) opening night performance of a show, and this event would be for my all time favorite musical was the icing on the (metaphorical) cake. Of course, that was only beginning of my lucky night, as patrons were heading into the theater I spotted Colm Wilkinson, who originated the role of Jean Valjean in London and in the original Broadway production in the lobby, also making his way inside. Emboldened by my luck at obtaining a ticket and flush with sheer euphoria, as well as knowing I’d probably never get another opportunity to meet him, I approached him and asked for a photo with him, to which he kindly agreed and for which I thanked him profusely. As I entered the theater and after an usher directed me where to find my seat, I made my way to the aisle down which my seat was located, only to spot producer Sir Cameron Mackintosh standing beside the soundboard. Already infused with the aforementioned (natural) euphoric high, and again aware that I’d probably never get another opportunity, I approached Sir Cameron, exchanged a few pleasantries and (again emboldened) asked for a photo with him, to which he happily complied, and for which I (again) thanked him.


Me and Colm Wilkinson (left) and Sir Cameron Mackintosh, taken just before the start of the show

Me and Colm Wilkinson (left) and Sir Cameron Mackintosh, taken just before the start of the show

I made my way to my seat (L104 in the orchestra), surprised and elated that my seat was right in the middle of the orchestra center section, though my view was a tiny bit obstructed by a taller gentleman sitting in front of me. As the reminder chimes sounded to signal the start of the show and as patrons began to head to their seats, I found out the quasi-cryptic reason why the box office personnel needed to confirm whether or not my single ticket could be sold: turns out that Colm Wilkinson was to be sitting two seats away from the seat I obtained, which left me flummoxed (with my inner fangirl was screaming with joy). Also, to add to the fangirl glee, turns out that Neil Patrick Harris and his husband were seated in the row in front of mine, diagonally to the left from where I was seated (I tentatively asked for a photo with him during intermission).


Me and fellow theatergoer Neil Patrick Harris, who was sitting in the row in front of me, taken during intermission

Me and fellow theatergoer Neil Patrick Harris, who was sitting in the row in front of me, taken during intermission

Onwards to the show itself – this revival production was revamped from the original staging, with the most notable change of not having the turntable on which the barricade had previously rotated; also this production incorporated elements from the film adaptation, including the opening sequence of the convicts dragging in a sunken ship (instead of the chain gang breaking boulders). The backdrop featured a 3D screen where tunnels and background buildings were projected, which gave the production a more realistic look. The set design was dark and dank, adding more to the realism, spilling into the sides of the stage – the barricade itself was a two-part set piece, brought on and off stage smoothly from opposite sides of the stage. The revised staging of the pivotal scene for which the rotating barricade was necessary was poignant incorporating elements of the corresponding scene in the film adaptation.

The cast was astounding in their respective roles, and each major character entrance was greeted with a smattering of applause. Ramin Karimloo was a formidable Jean Valjean, with notable flickers of controlled anger throughout, most likely as a result of being (unjustly) imprisoned for a minor offence, balanced with an inner calm planted by a single (random) act of kindness which gradually replaces the anger. His rendition of “Bring Him Home” left me (and many others around me) in tears, and at the very end of the song and just before the (thunderous) applause, I distinctly heard Colm Wilkinson express his approval of Karmiloo’s performance. Will Swenson was equally an amazing Javert, with just the right amount of (seemingly) righteous contempt for those who oppose his unwavering reverence to the Law, mixed with a healthy dose of rage, especially during his confrontations with Valjean. Cassie Levy gave a poignant performance as the doomed Fantine, Samantha Hill was lovely as Cosette, and matched well with the endearing Andy Mientus; Nikki M. James gave a heartfelt performance as Eponine, and Kyle Scatliffe was a commanding Enjorlas. Per usual, Cliff Saunders and Keala Settle nearly stole the show as the Thenardiers, easily oscillating from being the comic relief to treacherous villains.

After the curtain call, which was greeted by a rousing standing ovation, there were no post-show speeches or anything (as this is my first time attending an opening night performance, I don’t know if there ever is any kind of special thing done after the show). The stage door experience was brief, as it was unseasonably cold, and most of the cast were busy with press event things inside, but several of the ensemble members came out to greet the few who braved the biting wind to have their playbills and posters signed, and to pose for photos. I didn’t stay too long at the stage door this time (as I figured it would take the principal cast members time to get out of costumes and finish the press duties) and I’d have other opportunities to meet the cast (preferably when the weather was more agreeable).

Nevertheless, attending an opening night performance is now one more thing I can check off my theatrical “to do” list, and once again experiencing the sheer awesomeness that is Les Miserables was magical, as it always has been. I truly hope this production remains on Broadway for many years to come – so that more and more theatergoers in America (and in places other than in London where it remains the longest running musical in West End history) can experience this phenomenal show. I am so glad Les Miserables is back where it belongs.

Les Miserables Opening night signed playbill


Singing the Song of Angry Men: Initial Reactions and Impressions of the Les Miserables film – December 28, 2012

As stated in my previous blog, Les Miserables is my all time favorite musical that I have seen live on stage, and one of my favorite novels – being as such, I have very high expectations for any adaptation I come across, be it in print or on-screen. So, hearing that there was to be a film adaptation of the musical filled me with much elation and trepidation – a musical as epic and in scope and with such a universal theme as Les Miserables has all the potential to be conveyed without the limits of a theatre stage, and yearns to be told on the epic scale a major motion film can deliver.

[Disclaimer: Much of this blog will inevitably be comprised of my quasi-ranting about how it seems that style over substance (outward appearance and box office draw over innate talent and experience) is the overriding rule (and rarely the exception) in the casting of recent movie adaptations of musicals. While I do understand that big name Hollywood movie stars can generate more box office revenue than say, theatre-experienced actors, it still annoys me that a less-than-stellar (in my opinion) performance is preserved for all time on film, whereas a brilliant stage performance is not captured, at least not legally. Yes, I know that a film adaptation of a musical cannot be exactly identical as the stage production and certain aspects that work well on stage would not work the same way on-screen, and that much more can be done on a movie location/set than on a theater stage. And yes, I know that there have been recent film adaptations of musicals with much of the original Broadway cast intact (namely Rent and The Producers). So this is advanced warning that much of what I will write may come across as childish complaining and nitpicking. Also, please be aware that these musing are just based on my initial viewing of the film – my thoughts and opinions may (or may not) change upon repeated viewing. Of course, for those who know me, the fact that I am planning to see this film again can be taken as a sign that the film wasn’t as bad as I first presumed it would be.]

Unfortunately, movie adaptations of musicals lately have been lackluster and disappointing, often cast with big name (i.e. box office draw) movie stars with little to no musical training to be able to adequately and convincingly sing the musical score (regardless if it’s in the same key as was sung in the stage production) and are (in my opinion) just pretty people to look at. There are times I wish movie musicals were cast as they used to be, with some of the show’s original cast (or at least the main leads), so that what had been seen on stage could also be seen and preserved on film; alas, that’s not how the film industry works anymore – now it’s all about the box office revenue.

But I digress.

When the main cast for the film had been announced I was a bit assuaged – most of the main cast had musical theatre experience (or at least theatre experience), and were age appropriate to their respective roles; also, the fact that the singing would be recorded live on set, instead of the usual method of the actors pre-recording the songs and lip-synching upon filming was a plus. Moreover, several West End actors were cast among the ensemble, and most excitingly (for me, at least) was the fact that Colm Wilkinson, the first actor to play Jean Valjean in the West End and on Broadway was cast as the Bishop of Digne, a pivotal character that proves to be the catalyst in Jean Valjean’s life. My only real worry with regards to the singing portion of the film (of which, of course, there is a lot) was the casting of Russell Crowe as Inspector Javert, and the fact that the order of some of the songs would be different from the stage production. With a running time of about two and a half hours (the stage production is roughly three hours), there was bound to be cuts here and there, and I was curious as to what these changes and cuts were, and how it would affect the overall telling of the story.

My initial and gut reaction to this film was that it was pretty good – though not spectacular, and not totally awful either, though there were spectacular moments that moved me to tears (this happened at four instances during the film) and cringe-worthy moments that made me shudder and groan (this happened more times than it should have). Again, I know that there were bound to be differences from the stage production and the film adaptation, but I had not expected that there would be changed lyrics (some changes made sense, others did not), added lyrics (most of which were lyrical moments taken from the novel, which was fine) and chunks of verses and even entire songs omitted from the score (“Turning” was far too short, I’m not sure why this song constantly gets shortened with succeeding recordings I’ve heard, and “Dog Eats Dog” was omitted entirely, though the non-inclusion of this song does not impact the storytelling as much as the abridged inclusion of “Turning”). If the lyrics worked well for twenty-five years, why change them now? The changed order of some of the songs worked well and made sense within the context of the storytelling, and there were added moments not from the stage musical, but rather from the original novel, which was a lovely and fitting homage to that classic. The visual look of the film was fantastic, showing sweeping vistas of France as well as well filmed close-ups during solo songs; hearing the score in a THX-equipped, surround sound theater was a thrilling experience as well. The ensemble singing in “At The End of the Day”, “Look Down” and most especially ” Do You Hear The People Sing?” was nothing short of spectacular (and the placement of “Do You Hear the People Sing? within the film was inspired and poignant – a placement that could not be done on stage due to the limitations of a theatre space).

Among the standout performances were Anne Hathaway as Fantine – her direct and highly emotional rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream” was astounding – her pathos enveloping her performance and radiated in every scene she was in; Eddie Redmayne as Marius – his vocal were surprisingly strong, as was the emotions conveyed during “A Little Fall of Rain” and “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” (two of the instances wherein I was moved to tears); Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche, a character whose role has been pared down of late in the stage production, but fully fleshed out in the film, he comes to symbolize the students’ revolution and embodies the ideals for which the students are fighting, which makes his fate all the more tragic. It goes without say that Aaron Tveit and Samantha Barks, Enjolras and Eponine, respectively, (both actors with a wealth of stage experience) were fantastic in their respective roles – Barks’ rendition of “On My Own” was heartbreaking; Amanda Seyfried was a splendid Cosette, albeit with far too much vibrato in her singing (but then most actresses I’ve seen as Cosette often have tinges of vibrato in their voice, so I was accustomed to it).As the scheming Thenardiers, Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter provided comic relief with subtle undertones of their treacherous nature, though much of the levity imparted during “Master of the House” was a bit too lewd for my taste, and second comic turn during “Beggar at the Feast” was well done albeit a bit too short. The inclusion of Colm Wilkinson as the Bishop of Digne was far too short, yet still impactful and a truly inspired bit of casting, and provided a wonderful circle-of-life moment as a former (original) Valjean guide the present Valjean to the path of righteousness.

As for the two leads, Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe as Valjean and Javert, respectively, I was mildly disappointed by the former and truly disappointed by the latter. While Hugh Jackman has a wealth of acting and singing experience, his vocal choices were fine, though a bit nasal at times (and several keys lower than I am used to). The acting component of his vocal delivery was top-notch, yet his rendition of “Bring Him Home” did not move to tears, which was a first for me, as upon hearing any and every other rendition of the song always does, without fail; nevertheless, his voice during the “Epilogue” made up for the lack of tears on my part (the Epilogue being another moment where tears flowed freely). At first glance, it would seem that Russell Crowe would be a fitting antithesis to Valjean as the dogged Inspector Javert, stern and forbidding; Crowe’s acting ability is stellar – he excels at playing angry, angst-ridden characters. However his singing, about which I was correct to be worried, and sounded more like rhythmic speaking, was lackluster – there was hardly any emotion in his renditions of “Stars” and “Javert’s Suicide”, his voice even and unfeeling, as if he were reciting the lyrics mechanically; he almost looked uncomfortable when rhythmically speaking… I mean singing. I am aware that there are worse actors that could have been cast in this role, but surely there could have been better casting?  I will give him props for the kind of singing that seems to be out of his comfort zone. (Yes, I’m aware he has a history of singing in a rock band, but singing rock songs and singing musical theatre songs are two different things, I presume the technique is different for each genre).

All in all, I did enjoy the film as a whole, and compared to most of the recent film adaptations of musicals, Les Miserables was done well. I suppose I’m far too accustomed to the structure (and key) of stage production and perhaps much of my initial reaction will change after seeing the film again, now that all the changes and such are not so much of a surprise. The critical reviews of the film are positive, and with the box office success thus far, it has been confirmed, (according to that another stage revival will return to Broadway in 2014, so I guess there is some value in big name movie stars generating much box office revenue.