Raymond Bernard (director)
Eureka! (studio)
PG (certificate)
300min (length)
08 December 2014 (released)
23 December 2014
This is a real treat indeed! A four-and-a-half hour film version of the great French novelist Victor Hugo’s immortal classic Les Misérables (The Wretched), probably best known these days as a long-running stage musical.
I think it would be true to say that the director of this epic from 1934, Raymond Bernard, is perhaps somewhat underrated – compared with other directors from that period. Bernard and co-script writer André Lang to France’s answer to Charles Dickens is something quite special, and Eureka! has done a splendid job in restoring the prints. The film was actually made as three separate consecutive instalments but works best if seen together. The acid test being, can you sit through four-and-a-half hours without losing your concentration? Well, I found it comparatively easy and I may be as bold as to say so will you!
Hugo’s theme is of course, as was Dickens, social injustice. The plot focuses around Jean Valjean (Harry Baur), an ex-convict and possessor of Herculian strength, and his gradual transformation from bad-to-the-bone thief to a man capable of sitting at the right hand of God. Sentenced for five years for stealing a measly loaf of bread, and given another fourteen for various escape attempts, the story begins with his release – but his ignominy is not at an end. He is forced to carry around the brand of a convict – a yellow passport – for the rest of his days. However, old habits die hard – after Valjean is put up by a saintly priest, he thanks him for his generosity by making off with his silver. Apprehended the next day, Valjean is brought back to the priest in possession of the stolen goods. This priest so impresses our long-suffering initial anti-hero that Valjean virtually becomes him.
Seven years later, Valjean is now the mayor of a nearby town, and is now going by the name of Champmathieu. Was there ever a more benevolent mayor – you bet your life there wasn’t… well, Boris Johnson wasn’t around then.
However, things can never run smoothly and an act of heroic kindness puts Champmathieu under suspicion of Javert (Charles Vanel), the chief of the local constabulary, who seemingly recognises him as a former convict. Javert is a familiar figure in the works of Hugo, we have a similar character in ‘Notre Dame du Paris’ and ‘The Laughing Man’. The character of Valjean is in truth far too good to be true, and continues to put his neck in the noose to save all and sundry throughout. These include Fantine, a young woman fallen on hard times and forced sell herself as well as her front-teeth, as well as having to put up with the revolting Thénardiers, scoundrelous innkeepers who ‘look after’ little Cosette (Gaby Triquet) – the daughter of Fantine. Later still, Valjean/Champmathieu (going under yet another pseudonym) gets involved with revolutionaries, one of who is Marius (Jean Servais), an idealistic young man in love with the now grown-up Cosette (Josseline Gael).
The film features some outstanding performances! The huge bull-like Harry Baur does a fine job as Valjean (Baur was a ‘star’ at the time and was actually not the first choice for the role). The Thénardiers are lovingly created by the hunched Charles Dullin, a real-life problem for this actor and his malicious crone of a wife (played by Marguerite Moreno). Charles Vanel as Javert hits the right note, whilst Fantine is tenderly played by the actress Florelle. Hugo’s ‘Artful Dodger’ – here called Gavroche - is also a bravura piece of acting, delivered by Èmile Genevois. This is a shrewd, wise and worldly boy – unfortunately young Èmile disappeared into oblivion after this film and died at a young age. I can hardly fail to mention the spectacular barricade scenes for which Les Misérables is famous for – they are on a truly grand scale and are impressively staged! That said, I’m not altogether sure if the angled photography (a la German Expressionism) is entirely appropriate, but director Bernard may have argued that Hugo’s story represented a distorted time in social history – a moot point. Sometimes the film could have benefitted with perhaps a little more incidental music.
For £19.99 what is here on offer is something pretty special indeed. Suffice to say, the Dual Format edition contains an array of Special Features, including rare archive material and a 40-page booklet.