Les Misérables: 10th Anniversary Concert at London's Royal Albert Hall, filmed in 1995 but newly released on a two-disc collector's edition, is quite simply the best double translation I know of—“double” meaning from stage to concert hall and thence to television. To see the concert onscreen is in some ways the equal of the stage show, and in others perhaps even better.
I don't know the evidence for proclaiming Les Miz (its affectionate nickname) “the world's most popular musical,” but popular it certainly has been and may be again, in part thanks to this DVD. At 148 minutes, it is 12 minutes shorter than its previous issue on tape, whose “original direction and concert supervision” credit goes to John Caird and Trevor Nunn. Now, the same credit goes to John Caird and Gavin Taylor, the latter also billed as director of the television presentation, which would make him responsible for whatever cuts there may be.
Well, cuts or no cuts, this is a fine thing to own because that anniversary concert gathered from all over what may be the ideal cast. Thus from the original London cast, Colm Wilkinson (Valjean), Michael Ball (Marius) and Alun Armstrong (Thenardier); from the London replacements, Ruthie Henshall (Fantine) and Jenny Galloway (Mrs. T.); from the original Broadway cast, Judy Kuhn (Cosette) and Michael Maguire (Enjolras), plus a replacement, Lea Salonga (Eponine); and from Australia, Philip Quast (Javert).
[IMG:R]Both Thenardiers, Armstrong and Galloway, click individually and make a perfect couple: she fat, he gaunt. I admired Maguire's heroic Enjolras on Broadway, and do so again here. Ball, despite a slight chubbiness, or perhaps even because of it, is a lovable Marius, and Salonga a sweetly innocent Eponine. Too bad that Judy Kuhn, an otherwise praiseworthy actress-singer, is better not seen in close-up.
What first of all distinguishes this semi-staged concert version is the acting, better than usual even when, as is frequently the case, performers recreate their stage roles. The stage costumes worn by the principals help; but even the 150-member chorus, jauntily sporting Les Misérables T-shirts, adds raffish fun.
The camera work is remarkable. Often you get a double exposure of a singer in both close-up and in toto; sometimes a terrific shot from on high embracing the entire concert stage. There are views of the beautiful auditorium and the evening's enthusiastic audience, often also of the elegant conductor, and sometimes, during an orchestral passage, of an impressive instrumentalist. Noteworthy too is the versatile lighting by Patrick Woodroffe and David Hersey, which dramatically changes color, and even more dramatically encases individual actors in columns of light that can mournfully isolate or statuesquely glorify them.
Cannily, moments from the stage production, superbly designed by John Napier, are intercut to set a scene. There is sufficient actor and camera movement (generally viewing a performer from several angles) to obviate a sense of stasis. And there are 250 persons involved, counting the excellent Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. But a slightly fuller synopsis than provided by the booklet would not be amiss.
A splendid concluding touch is lining up downstage the Valjeans from 17 international productions singing in their native languages. Their differing looks embody the universality of Victor Hugo's novel and of this musical by Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alain Boublil, with the original French lyrics aptly Englished by Herbert Kretzmer and James Fenton.
Be it said, though, that a second included disc, ostensibly about the creation of the show, does not offer the desiderated rehearsal and backstage shots—mostly just talking-head musings by the various creators or directors.
There remains the ultimate question: Just how good a show is this in the first place?
Les Misérables tends to be perilously poised—both musically and verbally—on the razor's edge between grandeur and grandiosity, pomp and pomposity, heroic gesture and mere ambitious gesticulation. Sometimes it even teeters between pathos and bathos, less so, to be sure, on DVD.
I find it, however, a show that grows on you with repeated viewing. I have gone from moderate liking to genuine fondness, in no small measure thanks to this DVD reissue.