When I wrote my review of Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables, I admitted that what pushed me to read it was the Hollywood adaptation of the musical based on the same book. Before the musical, I only knew the broad strokes about the novel. The musical interpretation, though a bit on the superficial side, turned out to be very engaging. I rewatch it from time to time, and many of the songs have made their way into my playlist.
At some point I got interested in the history of the musical itself. And it turned out not to be some little-known production. So I’ll try to give a brief overview.
The first staging of a musical based on the famous book was in France, in 1980—and of course in French. But that production ran on stage for only three months. And perhaps no one would have heard of it if, in 1983, a recording hadn’t been passed to Cameron Mackintosh, the producer of the Broadway version of the great musical Cats, with a proposal to create an English-language version. The text was rewritten for an English audience; a prologue and several new numbers were added; and most importantly, all the non-musical spoken dialogue was removed. This version premiered in London in 1985.
Originally, the production was received rather coolly by critics, but audiences took a completely different view. The show gained popularity and, as a result, made it across the ocean to Broadway. Since then it hasn’t stopped appearing in various iterations. As of today, it is the second-longest-running play on the West End (since 1985), and among West End musicals it holds first place.
Just think about it: this musical has been on stage for nearly forty years! Naturally, the production has undergone some changes over that time. Even in the West End the show has changed “residence” several times, and the sets have changed as well. Judging by recordings, there are sometimes minor differences in certain segments, and occasionally a few lines in a song may shift slightly (or it may simply be quirks of specific recordings).
Even so, the work’s themes haven’t aged in all these years, and the show still plays with real power. I won’t retell the plot—I covered it in detail in my review of the novel.
As I mentioned, I first encountered it in the Hollywood screen adaptation, where all the actors sang live on set, and the names were A-list—Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, and the brilliant duo of Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter. With Bonham Carter there was a mismatch with the character: in the novel she’s the very stout wife of the innkeeper Thénardier, with “big bones.” Helena Bonham Carter doesn’t fit those traits at all. Even so, she conveyed the rest of the character wonderfully.
The musical has several key roles—former convict Jean Valjean; the policeman Javert; the young woman Fantine, who leaves her daughter Cosette in the care of the swindling Thénardiers; their daughter Éponine; and the young aristocrat-revolutionary Marius Pontmercy. And of course Gavroche, another child of the Thénardiers, who lived mostly on the streets and died for the revolution.
Each of these characters deserved a magnificent performer in the musical, and over nearly forty years—and across different countries—many actors have taken on these roles. At several anniversary performances, multiple singers of the same role even appeared on stage together.
Some songs from the musical have become cultural phenomena. For example, “One Day More” was used in Bill Clinton’s presidential campaign, and “Bring Him Home” was officially included by the U.S. State Department in promotional materials during the Gulf War.
In short, it’s long since become more than just a musical. And I finally managed to see a theatrical production of it in its modern staging at the Sondheim Theatre in London. And it was worth it. At first I kept comparing the performances to the film I love, and it even seemed those folks had nothing on Hollywood stars. But that lasted only the first five to ten minutes, when I was paying more attention to the cinematic quality that’s not so easy to replicate on a stage. Then I realized it’s simply a different incarnation—and the sets and how they’re used are superb. After two and a half hours, I was completely thrilled.
At the start of the performance I was sure there was no way they could outdo Sacha Baron Cohen. How wrong I was! The thing is, the first number where Monsieur Thénardier appears, “Master of the House,” is a kind of calling card—a burlesque of emotions, indecency, and swindling. To play such a rascal takes real doing. But the creators of the musical clearly understood that. And in the current production this scoundrel is played by the British actor Gerald Carey. After his take on the role, I honestly don’t know who’s better.
For all the film version’s splendor, the stage production’s actors managed to put their own spin on it—and even got some very funny laughs out of certain lines (which I hadn’t seen in earlier productions).
After that I even set myself a goal and rewatched the same number as performed by other casts—everything I could find around the internet. Each one produced its own take, with its own nuances. What’s more, even musically the productions sound different thanks to phrasing and emphasis. You’d think it’s the same music and the same lyrics, and yet they manage to convey the characters and shades of meaning in their own way.
In short, I’ve become an even bigger fan of this musical, and I can recommend it as a must-see to anyone who loves musicals at all.
And to close, here are a few links to different recordings of the show:
Thanks for reading and listening!
