Friday, February 8, 2013

A Review of Les Miserables (alternate title: Does the Sun Never Shine In France?)

Last night my movie girl friend and I went to see the much acclaimed Les Miserables. Let me start by saying it was very good and I am glad I saw it. I love musicals in a big big way. Bonus points to any movie and I can sing along to. However, I have a little beef with this one (shocker). If you want to preserve the sanctity of this great story, do not read ahead. You will probably become enraged and throw your computer. Beware, there are spoiler alerts. 

My take aways:

Never wear tights with a too-tight waist to a two and a half hour movie. Just don't. For that kind of length you need yoga pants. Lesson Learned.

France is the most depressing, dark, and rainy place on earth. The whole movie, I was like, "turn a light on." Too-dark movies are a serious pet-peeve of mine. I don't pay $10 to watch people stumble around in the shadows.

It is possible to make the dashing Hugh Jackman (love you hot stuff) unattractive. Give him curly hair that is poufy on the top and sides and flat on top. Job well done there. 
Left Hugh-Yurmy. Right Hugh-Not so much.

Somehow Oliver Twist found his way into Les Mis and then got himself killed. 

That Eponine had the most extreme boob-to-waist ratio that has been seen since the first Barbie came out. I am not sure how she could sing in such a tight belt.
My rib cage is at home in a jar.

Anytime a group of guys is singing a rousing song, it is hawt (Newsies, what?). I loved all those young rebels getting all pumped to take over France. Too bad they sing better than they fight.

Ann Hathaway, you did a lovely job as the impossibly thin, hairless prostitute. You do not, however deserve an Oscar. Once again, the academy loves a lady who makes herself ugly. I am sorry, but she just works my nerves.

Russell Crow has amazing balance.
Look what I can do, Look what I can do.

I am fairly certain that if one receives serious wounds in battle and then is dragged through a sewer of poo water (that was gag inducing) for what seemed like days, they would most surely contract some sort of infection and die. 

Borat can make even the most serious movie funny. 
Just looking at him makes me giggle.

If you skipped parole and changed your name, would you then run for mayor? Not the wisest move Jean Valjean. It's like he wanted to get caught, really.


All in all, very good movie. Even if I did feel like I was in there for 7 hours in tights that were cutting off the blood flow to my upper body. Also, I didn't even cry once, which is causing me to question whether I am dead inside, considering there was a girl to my right who was outright sobbing. It is the type of movie that should be seen in the theater to appreciate its magnitude. So glad I didn't make my husband watch it with me, or there would have been one more causality because he would have killed himself. If you want to preserve your visions of Gladiator, Wolverine, Cat Woman, Borat, and Bellatrix Lestrange, go ahead and skip it. Cause you may never look at them the same. If you enjoy a nice long depressing musical that makes you want to turn a light on, take a warm bath, and give Russel Crowe a glass of herbal tea for his sore throat, check it out.


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