For the first time in a long time, I feel like a kid at
Christmas. I hope it’s good, I hope it’s
good, I hope it’s good….
Yes, I’m talking about the Les Misérables movie, opening Christmas Day. You all have NO idea
how much I want it to be good!
I started reading Les
Mis when I was in junior high. After that, I read it once a year. Yes,
sometimes I skipped the minute descriptions of the Battle of Waterloo, but I read
the book every year. I adore Jean Valjean. If my son hadn’t been destined to
have John as part of his name anyway—well, he would have. Let’s just say that.
Like all my heroes—James T. Kirk, Patrick Pennington (look
him up, it’s worth it), Sarah Connor (T2), Nathan Algren, and more recently,
Katniss Everdeen—Jean Valjean never says die. Give him two bad choices and he
will create a third, better choice. He’ll do it by sheer force of will, if
necessary.
Now, if only I can
will the movie to be perfect….
I also read Lord of
the Rings just about every year. (In case you’re wondering, I read lighter
fare in junior high, too—like Mary Stewart. I got used to answering the
question, “Are you really going to read that WHOLE book?”) But I had such mixed
reactions to the LOTR movies (loved
the visuals, felt some part of the soul was missing), that I’m afraid to get my
hopes up about Les Mis. But, of
course, the musical is a BRILLIANT adaptation of the book in every single way.
I’m a theater person; I know this for a fact. So one good adaptation on record
bodes well, right?
I’ll never forget when I first heard the music. My English
teacher took a tape home and taped her CD for me. (Thank you, Mrs. Hayne!) I was beyond ecstatic! I remember trying
to explain to my busy, completely un-dramatic, pragmatic mother how amazing the
musical was. “And then, the most important decision of his life and they rhymed
‘Jean Valjean’ with ‘24601’! It’s brilliant! It’s pure poetry!” She wasn’t
impressed.
But it is—think about it. He embraces both his true identity
and his mark of shame (his prison number) in two brief lyrics set to soaring
music—the turning point of his life conveyed perfectly.
Then I got to see the show in 1988. Holy wow. I can still
make myself shake and ugly cry just thinking about it. I loved the
performances, I loved the feeling of being inside the music. I loved the
turntable. I loved the barricade and the fake marching and I couldn’t wait to
see how they staged Javert’s suicide and, wow! It was the pinnacle of theater
magic.
The final scene of the show is my favorite (and the cause of
most of the ugly crying), so when the ovations ended and the lights came up, I
was a wreck. I could not walk—literally. After everyone on the field trip
waited a very kind, considerate, patient interval, two friends helped me up the
aisle. (To everyone on that field
trip—I’m really sorry about that. At least we could laugh about it later!)
That’s my history with Les
Mis. It’s passionate. So, you know, Anne, Russell, Amanda, Eddie, Samantha,
and, most of all, Hugh and Tom, I’m counting on you. No pressure, but…
However the movie
turns out, “remember the truth that once was spoken: to love another person is
to see the face of God.”
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