Les Miserables (2012)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

By now you've made up your mind on this film, and let's face it, without a single spoken word or utterance, it's a hard sell to anyone but the most diehard fans of musicals or the stage version proper.  But not watching this film would be an absolute mistake, even for the most casual of film fans.

The much mentioned live singing (sometimes with anachronistic errors to boot) is phenomenal, and lends a raw sense to the acting, even if that means the audience has to get used to less than stellar singing, but that's the point.  This musical is closer to Hair (1979) and Cabaret (1972) in logic and aesthetic than to Moulin Rouge (2001) which covers approximately the same geographic space, even if 30 years later.  It's supposed to feel like a dramatic film that happens to be put to music.

That same raw aesthetic though, tricks the camera work into the tightest of corners.  Requesting that it work in an ever more quickened pace, sometimes forcing it to assimilate to the selfsame mistakes that culminate on some of the flaws of the film, regardless of whether you liked them or not.  Case in point, the focus seems to be a problem during some of the closeups, to the point of being a nuisance, and it doesn't appear to be a stylistic choice, which is a shame for a film that uses the close-up so much, ridiculously so.  But in the raw unnerving nature of the scenes you don't really care to question it, and maybe that apropos act is the point.

The singing is good, and some of it, specially Anne Hathaway, is phenomenal.  Full of coarse, gut clenching emotions that heighten the narrative and tugs at heart strings that were not there before.  Particularly with Ms Hathaway and the very humanized Hugh Jackman, the acting/singing has a quality that rips you past their celebrity clad status to the point of sympathetic projectionism, and that's the most vulnerable of all those plucked strings.

Artwork for Theatrical Release

Apart from the over-use of the close-up the cinematography is spotless, and let's face it, with a musical staged in such a grandiose place as revolutionized Paris, one would expect alot more of an epic feel, but the film here feels more like a introspective experience, and less so an overt musical.  But again, I think that's the point, regardless of whether you like it or not.

The color palette, the least resigned of the cinematography, is beautiful, and appropriately gloomy, taking the gloom and doom of a Burton film, and adding the muted colors of the French Revolution.  The pale blues and yellows of the iconic forget-me-nots and the red of the blood to be spilled are ever present and automatically place the film in its proper context, even if the audience can't exactly ascertain the motives.

If you're a fan of Hugh Jackman, Anne Hathaway, musicals, or Oscar bait, than buy this film on Blu-ray, it's worth the extensive analysis. 

If you're just a casual fan, or don't want to miss out on future cultural references, than rent this out if you can manage to get your hands on a copy in a timely fashion. 

Either way, whatever you do, try to avoid any online streaming method, it's really not worth the compression issues and the digitized packets of the dark aspects.

Singin' in the Rain (1952)

Artwork for Blu-ray Release

It might seem overhyped and overblown, but this film is a fit classic of American cinema, and based on my daughter's intrinsic and immediate adoration of it on first viewing, there's also something of a primordial siren call that attracts even the most precocious of four year-olds.

To anyone who hasn't seen this film yet, the comparisons against The Artist (2011) are inevitable.  But although they share in similar gags and story arcs, this film is ever so perfect and beautiful and enticing to watch over and over again.  The same can't really be said of The Artist (2011), which although, a good and enjoyable film, its gimmicks quickly become tedious and forgetful.

Part of the charm of Singin' in the Rain (1952) might be the striking use of Technicolor, or the way significant bits of Gene Kelly's joi-de-vivre are left stamped throughout this film; and as the writer, director and choreographer, it's amazing how much of this man might just be in this film.  Leaving one to wonder just how much of it is Gene Kelly trying to make art out of an early musical (some would argue just entertainment, I would argue a mix of both), drawing a parallel between Lockwood's (Gene Kelly's character) struggle and Kelly's own.
 
In our minds, there are these films that are so full of chunks of our emotions, films that hold a special place in our cannon that we perceive as perfect, but they are, alas, not immune to the slight shake on a zoom or track or pan.  But this doesn't bother me which makes me a bit of a hypocrite for chastising modern films for their flaws.  But this film is just sheer joy, and much like an oft faulted paramour, one can forgive a hiccup or two.

Some of those hiccups are infamous, like the fact the the original negative was lost in a fire, and the only remaining version of the film has a very noticeable couple of frames missing from an otherwise pristine and beautiful long take.

An upcut and a serendipitous event aside, the film is beautiful and maintains an ecstatic pace throughout, even if during the abstract NYC ballet scene at the end of the film, you start to wonder how long it has been.  But ultimately, it just won't matter, you'll be encased in the narrative and metaphors to even care.

One of the most striking and revelatory things about this film is that it manages to be fun and full of energy, through the near exclusive use of long takes, which is hard to understand with today's fast cut, shaky cam cinema style.

Production Still for Film

For the cinema buff, there are also alot of palpable homages to early film including a chase sequence of sorts where Gene Kelly, running away from adoring fans, jumps from moving car to trolley to car and so on with no safety harness or equipment. Thanks to OSHA and safety regulations and sheer safety concerns, they would not let anyone, not even a certified loony stuntman, do these stunts now-a-days, least of all the main actor and director, which tinges the film with hints of silent film auteurs like Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton.

The script is really funny and complements the acting, and apparent personalities of the actors, beautifully, whether situational, dialogue based, or even physical, the script comes across and not only natural, but perfectly fit for it's purpose.

The camera work that supplements all that is phenomenal, almost like another dancer stretching its gams for the audience.  Swooping around choreographed dancers, supplanting the fourth wall, and knocking it down when needed.

The voices from all the players, whether actual or dubbed by others, are pitch-perfect and so pleasant to listen to. The namesake song, an otherwise generic song about soggy exaltation's of amorous underpinnings and its male permutation is still great and fresh, even after all these decades of cultural references and parodies, and the same can be said about "Good Morning" which my daughter already sings without realizing it.

Gene Kelly's sidekick, Donald O'Connor, is great and oh so funny, showcasing his great comedic timing, specially in "Make Them Laugh."

Artwork for Film

Even the ending is great, even if a week later, and after having watched the movie a dozen times in two years, I can't remember it clearly enough to describe it in more than one line.  All I'm left with is just an image of some of the characters in front of a billboard, which at the time of the viewing, led me to write "very 'meta' ending...a movie within a movie, that ends with the creation of said real movie, same title and all."

I wonder what I meant.

Either way, either catch a theater showing or buy this film on Blu-ray the Technicolor treatment alone is worth it.  You might have fooled yourself, but this movie is going nowhere specially having survived a fire that would have made an optimist out of any negative.  The Technicolor looks phenomenal on Blu-ray

Cabaret (1972)

Artwork for the 2000 DVD release

Cabaret is by no means a light musical, but it is so enjoyable, that it can be easily mistaken as so.

The cinematography is (insert superlative here, I suggest phenomenal).  It is dark and gritty and jaunty, and disturbing, and oh so delicious.

The camerawork is spot on, special in the dance numbers where the camera works to accent and supplement the choreography.

The lighting is the best I have seen in any film from that era, off the top of my head, safe for maybe the Godfather films.

The acting is spot on as well, and it comes to no surprise that Joel Grey and Liza, both won may awards for their performances.  Liza manages what Madonna, decades later could not (see Evita [1996]), she passes for a 16 year old, managing the mannerisms, impulsively, awkwardness with her body, and brashness that one would expect.

Joel Grey manages to be both enjoyable and disturbing at the same time, in a fashion that makes me think that he would have played a great Joker in the Christopher Nolan Batman films, even more anarchistic and unnerving than Heath Ledger.

The editing plays off of this disturbing force, and coupled with the audio design and art-direction, they manage to create this cacophany of characters and sets and sounds and tastes, that leave you both thouroughly enjoyed and a bit uncomfortable.

If you are looking for a good example of the latter, pay close attention during the third act, and observe how the stories and nuances, and revelations are exposed through the eyes of the characters.

Cabaret (1972) functions as an excellent introduction into the musical genre, apart from the fact that it is light on traditional musical fare, it manages to do what Evita (1996) and later on Chicago (2002) did that made them great, they treated the film as a drama first and a musical second.

Like its contemporaries in the American New Wave, Cabaret (1972) manages to be an utterly disturbing film that is beautiful to its core.

The Master of Ceremonies, Joel Grey, sums it best, when he ends the movie by exclaiming, "where are your troubles, forgotten?  I told you so.  Here, everything is beautiful!" exaunt all.

Buy it on Blu-ray for posterity, just avoid the 2000 DVD release which was really dirty and shaky.

Click play below for a sample from the incomparable Liza Minelli; her rendition of "Maybe This Time" from the seminal musical Cabaret (1972).  It is by far one of my favorite songs/renditions ever.

The Phantom of the Opera (2004)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

Joel Schumacher...Joel Schumacher.  This much I can say, Andrew Lloyd Webber was correct in the fact that Joel Schumacher knows film music, the rest no one can account for.

The film is inexplicably enjoyable, and watching a very young Emmy Rossum (16 years old at time of shooting) is an incredible surprise, voice and all.

The camerawork is oft uninspired.  The lighting is lacking a bit of depth.  The color-timing is sometimes ill-fit.  And the CGI is bad, often in shots that did not necessarily warrant it.

I feel like Schumacher reached for something similar to Josef von Sternberg's The Scarlet Empress (1934), but comes across as simply garish and horribly campy.

Having said that, the music is phenomenal and some of the scenes are just spectacular.  Two of these in particular, the masquerade ball and the first cemetery scene make the whole film worth it.

I sadly expect anything with this pedigree to be a classic, but this film falls short of that, but is no less enjoyable.  Rent it, or watch it On Demand like I did, unless you have a particular interest in Emmy Rossum and her phenomenal pipes (read: nothing dirty).

Evita (1996)



Artwork for Theatrical Release

As usual, I shall preface by giving context.  I am Argentine, please hold applause until the end (read:  detrimental humor).  Also, Argentina was playing Brazil in a soccer (futbol) match at MetLife Stadium, and I would be attending with my wife. 

Apparently I was in a musical mood, and when I reached into my musical allegorical pile, out came Evita (1996), that should therefore, not be a huge surprise.

What might be a surprise, to some, is that the film itself, has not aged a bit.  It is 16 years old, and yet, maybe because of it's cinematography, or maybe because of Antonio Banderas's Dorian Grey-esque pact, it looks as crisp and clean as anything shot recently. 

Either way, it is thoroughly enjoyable, even with my ingrained hatred of Madonna's acting, and her inevitable attempts to continue doing so.

The music, all bow to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, is impeccable.  Perfectly orchestrated, and beautifully sung, and this last point does include Madonna. 

But what grates me though, is the fact that, while Jonathan Price and Antonio Banderas and undoubtedly the rest of the cast, choir and all, stand as proof that you can sing and act at the same time, Madonna seems to fail at both of them when done together and singularly.  Her movements seem too robotic, stoic, contrived, and unnatural, and against all visual cues, she cannot pass for 16 years old.

I am sorry.

No I'm not.

The rest of the film is unbelievably beautiful and moving, and the filmmakers' untiring devotion to capturing all of the truly Argentine nuances are well worth it.  Including the fact that the whole play makes a lot more sense when you realize that El Che is not Ernesto 'Che' Guevara like most directors assume, but the omnipotent che.  The generic term for an Argentine person, domestically and abroad.

I can safely tell you that when people in the US or in France or in Mexico, call me el che, they by no means reference my now growing beard and unkempt coif, but more intently the fact that Argentines use the word che the same way that the French use the word chez and the Americans use the term hey, after all that's how Guevara got his nickname (duh) and above all, 'Che' never met Evita, and Evita would have had no mindset regarding him, since she died 7 years before the war in Cuba.

The movie is a classic, in spite of Madonna.  The cinematography is phenomenal.  The music is impeccable.  Most of the acting is spot on and the thoroughness of the director comes cleanly across.

Buy it on Blu-ray for prosperity, if you can find it.  The director, Alan Parker, treats the film more like a drama than a musical, and that makes all the difference.