I might not know any French people and I've
never been to France but because I'm
British, I just know I can't stand them. I'm actually not into this
whole ‘national pride’ thing. I don't like our Royal Family and when I see the
Union Jack blowing in the wind, all I notice is the traditionally crappy
weather. However I do still live here and I suppose we've all got to do our
bit. If I have to display any British patriotism then an ignorant and arbitrary
disliking of the arrogant French is the one I'll go for! I was forced to learn
their language in school and so did my best to remain as dumb to it as
possible. As I'd walk towards those classrooms, I'd find myself suddenly
surrounded by their flags and photographs of Paris as though I'd accidentally
entered the French fucking Embassy. People say they have a beautiful language but they
don't- it just sounds gormless and as though they're constantly about to puke.
Every word they say starts with a 'blurgh' noise which isn't surprising thanks
to the shite they eat. I genuinely think horse racing is an abhorrent sport due
to the unnecessary injuries and deaths of the animals involved, however where I
see a tragedy, the French see a running buffet. Not only can they eat the horse
but they can keep its hooves as a frog-squishing tool for dessert. It might be
a cliché to joke about the weird shit that they eat but sod it, it's saving
time. I could start moaning about their
pathetic surrender of Paris back in 1940 but I'd hate to genuinely risk hurting
the feelings of a valued member of The Big Four'.
So with all that in mind, this week I ended
up seeing Tom Hooper's adaptation of Les Miserables. For anybody who
doesn't know, it's basically a musical about a bunch of 19th
century, dirty, depressed, fucking losers who didn't get the best start in
life. So it's about your average French person then. The film begins with Hugh
Jackman serving his last day in custody under the watchful guise of Russell
Crowe. It turns out that Jackman has been imprisoned for nineteen years after
stealing a loaf of bread and Crowe has become all fascist and started deep
throating the veiny shaft of the law. It turns out that the ex-Gladiator has no
tolerance for anyone caught doing anything
illegal whilst conveniently forgetting the time he twatted a hotel employee
with a telephone. In general, I find Russell Crowe to be a hard chap to judge
because on the one hand he's quite rough looking but on the other he writes
poetry. It's almost as though he'd be a great bloke to chat to down the pub if
he wasn't such a pretentious arsehole. Not that it matters as I'm yet to see a
film of his that I didn't enjoy and that includes 2010's Robin Hood: Where
The Fuck Am I From?
 |
| "Mother warned me about getting into cars with strange men" |
Anyway, so Jackman is released from prison
but fails to stick to the terms of his parole. Apparently nineteen years of
hard labour actually isn't enough to teach this thieving fucker right from
wrong. Instead he goes on the run and becomes a well liked businessman who owns
a factory that employs Anne Hathaway and a gang of pain in the arse bitches.
Sadly though, the mass of screeching tarts are in the majority and very jealous
of Batman's latest gimped-up squeeze. To teach her a lesson for being so good
looking, they have her fired on the grounds that she's a single Mum. As you can
tell, the French are a sympathetic people. Anyway, so the newly unemployed
Catwoman takes a step-down off the career ladder which naturally leads to the
inevitability of prostitution. I guess the morale is that you don't need
A-Levels to earn a wage so long as you've got a semi-workable minge. The last
bit of this paragraph is a spoiler, so if you've not seen the film, skip to the
next one now... Anyway so despite jobs being scarce Hathaway refuses to fucking
smile making her a very ungrateful slice of hump meat. Not that it matters I
guess seems as her career is cut embarrassingly short when she randomly decides
to die. I'm not sure what kills her because it just kind of happens so I'll
assume that she simply died of ‘whore’.
Because of Jackman's involvement in turning
Catwoman into a frowning clunge dispenser, he vows to take care of her child.
From what I hear, parenting isn't easy but I imagine it's made even harder when
you're a convict on the run from Crowe's obsessed Romper
Stomper. Also for the record I really think the way Jackman talks to the young
girl is hugely inappropriate. He meets the child whilst she's fetching water
alone in the woods and the first thing he asks her is if she needs any help with
her bucket. I guess he just presumes that it's a case of ‘like-mother, like-daughter’.
So, basically the film from here just follows Jackman and the little girl over
the years as they spend it on the run. Meanwhile even the French are getting
sick of themselves and so attempt to start a revolution. If I have to watch a
film set in France then I guess the only way I'll enjoy it is if they all sound
like cockneys and conclude the story by shooting the living shit out of each
other. As a result, I did thoroughly enjoy Les Miserables.
 |
| "I dreamed a dream in time gone by..." |
Speaking of the songs, I did really
quite enjoy them although I think it'll be more fun on second viewing now that
they're a little more familiar. Since watching the film I actually can't get
their version of 'One day more' out of my head. I don't know if constantly
humming musicals is the first sign of turning gay but if a mate invites me to
go camping on a mountain I might turn it down just to be on the safe side. It
goes without saying that the cast are all pretty good at hitting the right
notes with only one or two exceptions. Eddie Redmayne, who is the toff that
looks like a lesbian, sounded a bit odd- as though he was literally singing out
of his nose. But even if he was like a Whale trying to attract a mate, that
didn't quite compare to whatever Russell Crowe was doing. It's not that Crowe
was bad, it's just that he's clearly not in the same ball park as anybody else
here. From what I know, someone like Hugh Jackman is very experienced in
musical theatre whereas Crowe is in a band called '30 Odd Foot Of Grunts' which
kind of tells you all you need to know. So it's not that he can't sing it's
just that when he does, it sounds a bit like somebodies just kicked Bono up the
arse and then killed an African in front of him.
 |
| FAB Javert |
Story wise, this was clearly quite
the epic with it spreading over several decades however the only real constant
to it was Crowe chasing Jackman. As such, the whole world was made to seem
rather small with the same two people bumping into one another over and over
again. Not just those two, but Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter had a
bizarre habit of just turning up too. Either this film relied a lot on
coincidence, that country is a lot smaller than I thought it'd be or Hugh Jackman
is really lazy with how far he'll go to hide. Although, speaking of SBC and HBC
I'm not saying that they weren't brilliant but they were clearly out of place
and from a different film. For the most part, Les Miserables looked like
it was from the director of The Kings Speech but then every so often we
were randomly treated to deleted scenes from Sweeney Todd. Even the set
those two lived in was suitably gothic and Burton-esque with so many holes in
the walls that it was like a pervert’s paradise.
 |
| "You complete me!" |
So like I say, I did genuinely
enjoy this film but if there's one thing that really bugged me, it was just how
quickly the characters of Marius and Cosette fell in love. All they did was
glance at each other and suddenly they were head-over-heels. I know those deluded
types who believe in it won't pay any attention, but the concept of love at
first sight is clearly complete bullshit. The only way people can fall in love
that quickly is if one of them is tied up with their ear cut off and Stockholm
syndrome quickly starts to kick in. Also the film was really, really long. I
didn't get bored or anything but there were a few false ends where I thought it
was about to start winding down. The most obvious one was probably when the
projector fucked up and everything just cut to black for like five minutes. It
was worth it though just for the moment when a man returned from the toilet to
discover the film had restarted. Because he briefly blocked the screen, an
oldish sounding woman behind proper hissed at him to “Ssssssit down!” I know
that's nothing to do with the film but knowing the evil gypsy from Drag Me
to Hell was in the same audience really added to the experience.
Speaking of the screening that I
was at, there was a box of tissues available to the audience on the way in. I
was told that this film was going to be a weepy but I can honestly say it
didn't upset me once. I'm not trying to sound like one of those knob-heads who
laddishly claims to be devoid of emotion and I'm happy to admit crying during
films in the past. I was balling my eyes out during Transformers 3 but
only because I was ashamed of myself for paying to see it. In the end though
the free tissues were certainly useful if not for the heartache then definitely
the few scenes in which Anne Hathaway became a prostitute. Just because her
character wasn't having a good time doesn't mean I can't. In fact I would say
her performance was so good that I could continue masturbating even while I was
being reminded of the existence of Susan Boyle.
 |
| "Five hours of photoshopping and puss holes are barely visible" |
After both this and The Kings
Speech, director Tom Hooper is really doing well to keep me as a fan. I
hate the Royal Family and as you've by now probably gathered, I don't have much
love for our snotty, froggy cousins. If he continues this trend of using things
I can't stand as the primary subject then I look forward to his next film which
will presumably be a biopic of Piers Morgan. I don't know what it might be
called- not because I can't think of anything, but because I think somebody
already owns the rights to The Creature From The Black Lagoon.
Follow this blog or I'll fucking cut you.
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