I succumbed. I gave in. I buckled. I went to see "Les Miserables", the musical/movie version of Victor Hugo's novel.
There is realism (or lack thereof) in movies, and there is reality (or lack thereof). This movie has neither. To see two of my Hollywood favourites singing their lines is bad enough. I kept saying to myself, "Why are they doing this?" To see anybody, anywhere, anytime, singing their dialogue to each other is unnatural. I just could not get over it.
I have read the novel and it is great. This movie detracted from the premise, the themes, the characters, the lessons, and just about everything else I got out of the book. In a word, it was a 2 1/2 hour endurance test for me. I don't ever recall being so restless during a movie and wondering when it would finally end.
It was a little like having a tooth pulled while watching paint dry, and I have had experience doing both.
I mean, really. When does an aging man haul his foster daughter's wounded boyfriend through raw filth in the sewers of Paris, singing in an operatic voice. Maybe that is why the pure unadulterated E-coli did not infect the open gunshot wounds on the boyfriend. They fled in shear terror of the incongruity of the situation.
I should have done the same.
For Victor Hugo's sake, I will consent to a minimum 1 star.