I love musicals, always have — but my feelings about Tom Hooper’s bombastic version of the long-running stage hit “Les Misérables’’ had me thinking about the opening lines of another epic set in Paris, albeit a century earlier.
The best of times here include a perfectly cast Hugh Jackman, a veteran song-and-dance man onstage, in his greatest screen performance as the persecuted Jean Valjean.
Anne Hathaway is even better as the doomed Fantine, who will tear your heart out with her film-stopping rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream,’’ which is enough to make anyone forget Susan Boyle (if they haven’t already).
It’s worth seeing the movie for Hathaway alone.
It’s the worst of times, though, when Hooper repeatedly traps his stars in tight close-ups during the musical numbers — practically shoving the camera down the singers’ tonsils.
This is particularly scary in the case of Russell Crowe, whose husky, rock-style baritone is far more frightening than his character, the relentless Inspector Javert, is supposed to be.
Hooper did a fine, disciplined job directing the Oscar-winning “The King’s Speech.’’
But for some reason he decided he needed to turn the volume up to 12 — and leave it there — for William Nicholson’s subtlety-free adaptation of the musical by Claude-Michel Schönberg, Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel.
This works, sometimes astoundingly well, for much of the movie’s first hour, as prisoner Valjean (an emaciated Jackman) escapes, in 1815, after 14 years of hard labor for stealing a crust of bread.
After singing his heart out on a mountaintop for some reason — hey, it’s a musical! — Valjean, with the help of a sympathetic priest, begins a new life under the first of several assumed identities.
Years later, former prison guard Javert shows up and recognizes Valjean, who’s become mayor of a small town.
Just as Javert is about to collar him, another man the authorities mistakenly believe is Valjean is arrested. The conscience-stricken Valjean admits his ruse to avoid sending an innocent man to the gallows.
Because of his confession, Valjean is tragically powerless to save former employee Fantine, who’s been forced into a life of prostitution and worse. She dies of tuberculosis, leaving her little girl Cosette (Isabelle Allen) an orphan.
Valjean flees from Javert, and after a decade in hiding, is forced to emerge again to save the now-grown Cosette (Amanda Seyfried), who’s been adopted by a pair of small-time Parisian swindlers, the Thénadiers. They’re played by Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter, who provide much-needed comic relief in what amounts to a variation on their roles in “Sweeney Todd.’’
By this point, “Les Misérables’’ has become far less compelling.
It’s hard to get terribly excited about Cosette’s romance with student rebel Marius (Eddie Redmayne, an unexpectedly wonderful singer), who’s fancied by the Thénadiers’ coddled daughter Eponine (Samantha Barks, who sings rings around Seyfried).
The movie climaxes with the anti-monarchist Paris uprising of 1832 — but there’s no political context whatsoever to explain exactly what’s at stake.
It all comes off as a picturesque 19th-century version of Occupy Wall Street — except with the authorities using real bullets.
By this point (unlike in Victor Hugo’s novel), the ubiquitous Javert’s unending pursuit of Valjean has become almost as monotonous as Crowe’s singing.
When the fighting begins, Cooper finally pulls the camera back for some of the big crowd shots and shows off the impressive period detail — but far too much of the movie is shot in stultifying close-ups.
And exactly what is the point of filming the numbers live — instead of the usual practice of having actors sing to playback — if you’re going to Cuisinart many of the songs in MTV-style editing?
The utter lack of modulation — and the near-complete absence of spoken dialogue, just like onstage — makes for pretty wearying viewing as the movie works its way into its third hour.
“Les Misérables’’ finally rallies for a really wow finish — I won’t spoil it, but many around me at the screening, including my wife, were weeping.