REVIEW: Les Misérables

Les Misérables (2012): Dir. Tom Hooper. Written by: William Nicholson, Alain Boubil, Claude-Michel Schönberg, Herbert Kretzmer. Based on the musical by: Alain Boubil and Claude-Michel Schönberg. Starring: Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried, Eddie Redmayne, Helena Bonham Carter, Sacha Baron Cohen, Samantha Banks, Isabelle Allen, Aaron Tveit and Daniel Huttlestone. Rated PG-13 (Hopes torn apart, dreams turned to shame). Running time: 158 minutes.

2 ½ stars (out of four)

For a big-budget, end-of-the-year musical spectacle, director Tom Hooper’s Les Misérables is surprisingly light on spectacle. The film indulges in its share of sweeping cityscape views and crowds of costumed extras but spends far more time on close-ups, especially during its performers’ solos.

It’s a technique used to particularly devastating effect in Anne Hathaway’s show-stopping first act number, “I Dreamed a Dream.” As she laments a dream long gone and faces the cruel reality of her life, tears stream down her face. We can hear the pain in her voice and see it too. It is the sort of jaw-dropping moment that freezes time and is the reason musical fans flock to movies like this one and their stage counterparts. Nothing else in the film matches its emotion.

Ms. Hathaway’s Fantine, a prostitute who sends money regularly to a daughter she never sees named Cosette (the sweet and very talented newcomer Isabelle Allen), is but a minor player in a large cast of miserable men and women in nineteenth century France. There is the story’s hero, Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman, commanding the screen as always), a former slave who has spent half his life in bondage as punishment for stealing a loaf of bread. Valjean is given a new lease on life from a gracious and forgiving bishop (Colm Wilkinson) who catches Valjean taking silver from the church in the middle of the night.

Then there is the emotionally tortured Inspector Javert (Russell Crowe), a man wed to the law and desperately (even bizarrely) committed to catching Valjean, who has broken his parole, and seeing justice served. Mr. Crowe lends the role a certain sense of dignity and authority but, regrettably, is the weak link vocally in the cast. He doesn’t embarrass himself or anything but the disparity in talent is clear whenever he shares the screen with Broadway darling Hugh Jackman.

The themes in the film’s first half – justice, honor, duty, forgiveness – are well-suited to the grandeur and beauty of the songs, taken from the 1980s musical which was, in turn, based on the 1862 novel by Victor Hugo. But rather than painting on an huge canvas, where the pain and heartbreak of these characters might have gotten lost, Tom Hooper focuses closely on his actors.

There is a raw quality to the performances, which were recorded live on set. The actors’ expressions match their intonations, and the songs become intimate in a way they could never be on stage.

Despite his best efforts, however, Mr. Hooper cannot overcome the weaknesses of his source material. In the final act, the film leaps forward in time and is hijacked by a new generation of miserable people. Two young men, Marius (Eddie Redmayne) and Enjolras (Aaron Tveit), lead a revolution to overthrow the government, but Marius becomes distracted by a beautiful girl he sees in the marketplace – Cosette all grown up (a lovely Amanda Seyfried). Marius is so overcome with puppy love that he barely notices the girl next door, Éponine (Samantha Banks), who longs for his love and affection.

But the sting of unrequited love pales in comparison with what Valjean and Fantine had to endure. (OK, so he likes you but he doesn’t like you like you… Try being a slave! Or a prostitute! Kids these days have no perspective…) And speaking of Valjean, where is he in the last act? Why is he sidelined and not a major player in the revolution?

Even when the story falters, however, the movie looks great. Cinematographer Danny Cohen beautifully films production designer Eve Stewart’s sets, and though Tom Hooper resists overplaying the epic qualities of the movie, there is no mistaking the hugeness of the production. This is prime Oscar bait and no expense is spared.

Les Misérables is also bolstered by a strong ensemble cast, including a wonderful Sacha Baron Cohen as a pickpocketing innkeeper and Helena Bonham Carter as his wife and partner in crime. Watch too for that little scene-stealer Daniel Huttlestone as a young boy scampering through the gutters who assists the revolutionaries.

Now is probably a fair time to acknowledge that I’m not big on musicals like this. I’d be surprised if a fan of the stage show was disappointed but then, having never seen the original production myself, I have nothing to compare the film to. And at 158 minutes, boy, is this movie long. I’ll never say I didn’t get enough Les Mis for my money.

- Steve Avigliano, 1/5/13

REVIEW: The Dictator

The Dictator (2012): Dir. Larry Charles. Written by: Sacha Baron Cohen, Alec Berg, David Mandel and Jeff Schaffer. Starring: Sacha Baron Cohen, Anna Faris, Ben Kingsley and Jason Mantzoukas. Rated R (Cursing, racial slurs, masturbation, nudity, decapitation. All in good fun.) Running time: 83 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

General Admiral Hafez Aladeen, the autocrat at the center of Sacha Baron Cohen’s new satire The Dictator, is a type of ruler in increasingly short supply of late. His idols, and perhaps former poker buddies, include Saddam Hussein, Muammar Gaddafi and, of course, Kim Jong-il, to whom this film is lovingly dedicated. These are men who led grand lives of opulence, occasionally stepping out onto the balconies of their shimmering gold palaces to address the famished, oppressed people of their nation and reassure them that the country is in good hands. When Aladeen delivers one such speech to announce that development of weapons-grade uranium is almost complete (to be used for medical purposes, naturally), he can barely keep a straight face.

The same would not be said of Sacha Baron Cohen, the prankster who gave us Brüno, Borat and Da Ali G Show, and master of keeping a straight face. His Aladeen is a ravenous egomaniac whose hatred of the West is matched only by his antisemitism, yet – and this is one of the great pleasures of Mr. Baron Cohen’s comedies – no matter how despicable the character, we can’t help but wind up rooting for him. When Aladeen’s dictatorship faces the threat of becoming a democracy, I’ll be damned if I didn’t find myself hoping he makes it to the UN building in time to declare continued tyranny over his country.

That country is the fictional Wadiya, which we briefly see on a map, its borders cleverly drawn in along the North African coast. The threat of democracy comes from his top political advisor and uncle Tamir (Ben Kingsley, believe it or not, in a fine straight man performance). Aladeen unwittingly finds himself in that capitalist hellhole, the United States, forced to wander the streets of New York as an average American.

How and why this happens I will not say – the other great pleasure of this movie is the breakneck speed at which it races through a dozen or more crazy ideas and twists – except that he meets a young woman from Brooklyn, Zoey (a very funny Anna Faris), who agrees to take him in. Zoey is a Vegan and a feminist who runs an organic grocery store and is on hand to politely correct Aladeen’s political incorrectness.

You might say Sacha Baron Cohen walks a fine line with his movies but the more accurate description would be that he stomps all over that line until it is no longer visible or relevant. He blends smart commentary with crude shock gags and the style works for him. His satire rarely digs deeper than a few barbed one-liners, which may be a wise move. The hypocrisy of dictators is an easy target and he knows it, so he uses his tougher, political jabs sparingly. The remainder of The Dictator is spent on broader, mostly raunchy comedy.

In this area, Mr. Baron Cohen and his creative team are old hands. Director Larry Charles, who helmed Brüno and Borat, is a Seinfeld alum, and co-writers Alec Berg, David Mandel and Jeff Schaffer are all writers or producers for Curb Your Enthusiasm, among other TV shows. They ensure that The Dictator has a satisfying laugh quotient: there are a few belly laughs, at least two outrageous gross-out gags, and plenty of chuckles and grins scattered throughout. It helps too to have cameos from John C. Reilly, Chris Parnell, Fred Armisen and many other comedians. Jason Mantzoukas, as Aladeen's weapons developer, has some funny scenes too opposite Sacha Baron Cohen.

The movie is nice and short, leaving little room to stall or get dull. One gets the impression Mr. Baron Cohen and Mr. Charles made a three-hour movie and cut it down to the best possible 83 minutes (credit should also be given here to editors Greg Hayden and Eric Kissack). No doubt there will be some good deleted scenes on the DVD.

For his next movie, I might like to see Sacha Baron Cohen try something new. If The Dictator does break away from the mockumentary format of Brüno and Borat, it is still made from the same DNA as those films. For now, however, this movie allows him to continue to do what he does so well: dig his teeth into a hot button topic with reckless abandon and let loose a lovably horrible (or is horribly lovable?) character to wreak havoc on our collective sense of decency. And that is a very good thing.

- Steve Avigliano, 5/21/12

REVIEW: Hugo

Hugo (2011): Dir. Martin Scorsese. Written by: John Logan. Based on The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick. Starring: Asa Butterfield, Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen, Chloë Grace Moretz, Ray Winstone, Jude Law, Emily Mortimer, Christopher Lee, Richard Griffiths and Frances de la Tour. Rated PG. Running time: 127 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

Director Martin Scorsese’s first foray into 3D, Hugo, appears on first glance to be a Spielbergian piece of family entertainment about an orphaned boy’s adventures in a 1930s Paris train station. The film, adapted from Brain Selznick’s award-winning book, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, is curiously both more than that first impression suggests and somehow a little less.

We first see Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) as he peers out at the station’s busy lobby from behind the face of a large clock. Through flashbacks we learn he is the son of a watchmaker (Jude Law in a brief cameo) who taught his son all about the inner workings of timepieces. Prior to his father’s death, the two were repairing an automaton, a small robotic man of extraordinarily intricate design Hugo’s father picked up at a museum. The machine is missing a crucial piece – a heart-shaped key – that Hugo’s father has drawn for reference in a small notebook Hugo later inherits.

Hugo then comes under the dubious care of his uncle (Ray Winstone in an even briefer cameo), a drunk who repairs the train station’s clocks and disappears almost as soon as he adopts the poor boy. This leaves Hugo to roam the station alone, dodging the watchful eyes of Inspector Gustav (Sacha Baron Cohen), who has made it his purpose in life to catch stray orphans in the station and ship them off to some nondescript Dickensian nightmare or another.

Inspector Gustav is unaware, however, of the many ventilator ducts and behind-the-wall passageways Hugo calls home. From these hidden vantage points, Hugo safely observes the station’s population below him. (Richard Griffiths, Christopher Lee, Emily Mortimer and Frances de la Tour each have a few scenes apiece as various proprietors in the station.) But it is Ben Kingsley as the owner of a toy shop who Hugo is most interested in and vice versa.

Hugo has been stealing toys from the shop not to play with but to disassemble for parts. When Papa Georgie, as his goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz) calls him, catches Hugo red-handed, a mysterious and pensive look crosses the old man’s face at the sight of Hugo’s notebook. Does this look signify some mystery for Hugo and new friend Isabelle to solve? Some past secret from Hugo’s or Papa George’s life? A hint at the cause of Hugo’s father’s untimely death?

The mystery, without giving away too much, turns out to be a lesson in film history, which, I must say, I wasn’t expecting. That is not to say the film loses any of its charm as Martin Scorsese pays tribute to the silent era of cinema – these scenes are as visually inventive and whimsical as anything else in the film – but I wonder: To what degree will the film’s younger audience appreciate this sudden turn? Hugo is a bit overlong, especially considering that it is being marketed as a family adventure, and by its second half its gradual pacing begins to feel like the film is dragging its heels.

This is no fault of Hugo’s young stars though, who carry the film nicely. Asa Butterfield is a strong and amiable lead and Chloë Grace Moretz shows her range as the plucky bookworm. The adults stand by to support them and Sacha Baron Cohen’s comic timing looks to have cross-generational appeal (to both older and younger audiences than his typically raunchy, scatological characters attract).

The film’s 3D gives a number of shots an added layer of wonder but Hugo’s most visually appealing qualities – its muted colors, its meticulous set design – do not need the effect; they are enchanting enough on their own. So while Martin Scorsese’s first use of 3D is well executed, I cannot say it was worth adding $5 to the ticket price. This continues to be 3D’s biggest drawback. I’m willing to remain open to each filmmaker’s take on the technology but not at these prices.

Mr. Scorsese looks to be on-board with it though. By evoking the dazzling imagination and visuals of cinema’s earliest works, he argues that the movies have always been about the spectacle of technological innovation. I wonder if the film might have been more effective had it gone even bigger – more magic! more mystery! – and if it had more of its director’s characteristic vigor and energy. In its quiet way though, the film ever so gently reminds us of the movies’ ability to inspire wonder and to invent.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/1/11

REVIEW: Brüno

Brüno (2009): Dir. Larry Charles. Written by: Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Dan Mazer, Jeff Schaffer. Starring: Sacha Baron Cohen, Gustaf Hammarsten. Rated R (pervasive strong and crude sexual content, graphic nudity and language). Running time: 82 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

If the nude wrestling scene was Borat’s most outrageous moment, then Brüno out-does it once… twice… too many times to count. Brüno takes the absurd gags from Borat or Da Ali G Show and escalates them as far as an R rating will allow.

Most importantly though, Brüno is consistently hilarious, aided tremendously by economical editing, which brings the film to a scant 83 minutes (Judd Apatow, take note!) Considering the many hours that must have been filmed for Brüno’s pranks, Sacha Baron Cohen and director Larry Charles (Borat, Seinfeld) have wisely whittled the film down to its best moments. As a result, virtually no joke in the film falls flat, and each moment scores at least a chuckle, with plenty of laugh-out-loud moments to spare. Highlights include a failed television pilot featuring a talking penis (arguably the film’s biggest laugh) and an attempt to heal conflict in the Middle East over hummus.

Comparisons to Borat are inevitable, but entirely warranted considering the two films’ similarities in content and style. Brüno follows the same general outline of Borat, taking its title character (a gay fashionista and former host of Austria’s Funkyzeit mit Brüno) on a road-trip across America with a companion (this time, the straight-faced Gustaf Hammarsten) to punk average citizens and celebrities alike with increasingly absurd and inspired pranks. There’s another appearance on daytime television and Brüno even borrows Borat’s faux-dramatic storyline, with the breakup of Brüno and Hammarsten resembling the fight between Borat and Azamat.

Brüno’s ultimate goal however, differs slightly from Borat’s. The easy analogy to make is that if Borat skewered America’s racial intolerance, then Brüno does the same for homophobia. The film never quite delivers its message as strongly as Borat did though, muddling its intent in earlier scenes that lampoon the fashion industry (although there are some fine moments here as well). By the time we reach the final cameo-laden “charity song” over the end credits, Cohen & Co. drive home their moral a little too hard – Elton John singing “Let’s stop our fighting” feels too obvious even if he’s not specifically singing about homophobia.

Brüno is also a more divisive character than Cohen’s other incarnations. Where our Kazakh friend gleefully disguised himself as a racist for satire, Brüno pokes and prods to incite a reaction. Even in his least politically motivated pranks, his goal is to shock more than anything else. His least shocking moments are his finest, such as his quest to convert to heterosexuality by taking an unconventional karate lesson and attempting masculine conversation during a hunting trip.

Cohen’s strategies might not be as fresh as they were three years ago, but they’re still effective, and his talents as a comedian are kind of fantastiche.

- Steve Avigliano, 7/10/09