I admit to nothing.
I will not confess to sobbing – twice – during director Tom Hooper's adaptation of the hit musical Les Misérables. That never happened.
I certainly did not gasp when Anne Hathaway, broken and degraded as Fantine, forced to sell her teeth and her body to feed her child, utterly crushed her solo, "I Dreamed a Dream," by beckoning the audience in instead of belting.
There is no evidence that I said that Hugh Jackman and his glorious tenor could rival Daniel Day-Lewis for an Oscar.
And I emphatically do not support the notion that musical Les Misérables is one of the year’s most satisfying films. That giddiness is reserved for Les Mis nerds, devotees of Jean Valjean (Jackman), the ex-con who finds God, saves Fantine's child Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) and becomes a hero of the Paris uprising of 1832.
No, what a clear-eyed observer like me must note is that, at 160 minutes, the film is too long, with music that doesn't always live up to the story's grandeur. (For a musical that's almost entirely sung through, it's quite talky.)
A cynic such as myself might also neglect to mention that My Week with Marilyn's Eddie Redmayne, playing rebel Marius, has a startlingly fine voice, and that while we’re talking Oscars, Hathaway damned well better lead that conversation.
But I would never, ever gush.
Les Misérables opens Christmas Day.
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