Spoiler alert: this recap is for people watching Les Misérables on the BBC. Please do not read on if you are not up to date.
“There is nothing regular about this villain.” Ah, Javert! The pain, the humiliation. When surely he must know deep inside that he is the one who is a bit irregular. An excellent outing, prolonging the to-ing and fro-ing between Jean Valjean (Dominic West) and Javert (David Oyelowo) as the action moved to Paris and the stakes were raised. Cosette is saved. But how long can she remain safe while Javert is on the warpath?
The net, inevitably, tightened around Valjean this week as Javert showed himself to be the most assiduous copper in the history of policing. Luckily, the fugitive papa and his blonder-by-the-second sidekick were able to hide with a convent of nuns imported from The Sound of Music, Nazi-evading narrative and all. (“Don’t rush to open the door, Reverend Mother!”) Phew.
Before all the drama in the final third, there was a lot of narrative to get through. This is a quality adaptation, but without the acting talent to carry it, I think it would feel heavy. West as Valjean is pretty much perfect. He’s menacing when he needs to be, pitiful at other points and bravely majestic at others. His face during the court scene at Arras when he faced his destiny … this was the bit where a man pretending not to be Valjean rode to the rescue of the man who was not Valjean, but everyone thought was Valjean. The noises of the crowd in the court were priceless, giving their “oohs” and “aahs” as the prisoners showed the marks that meant they knew the real Prisoner 24,601.
Of course, Fantine was great in her death throes. But this was another scene stolen by West’s heartbreaking portrayal of humility. It would be hard to find a more pathetic death scene, and there were tears in our household. I had to suppress a snort, though, at this hilariously insensitive line: “She’s dead and you’re my prisoner.” Javert misjudges the mood yet again. Read the room, Javert! She’s just died.
Two years passed in the blink of a specially designed miserable font, and a great moment was bestowed upon us: the return of the hair and teeth dealer (Ron Cook) with his handmade creepy dolls! As far as I’m aware, this was an entertaining bit of poetic licence from writer Andrew Davies, conjuring up the idea that the doll may even have had Fantine’s hair. (Pretty sure this connection is not explicit in the original.) There was more misery to come – the title of this piece is never wasted – as not even Olivia Colman could wring an ounce of comedy out of Cosette’s horrible fate.
Thankfully, though, once Valjean had had some bread and cheese, he was able to give all the money in the entire world to this ’orrible pair and go to Paris so that he could, completely coincidentally, cross paths with Javert again. Remarkable coincidences are the hallmark of 19th-century literature, so it is only natural that they should start to stack up by this stage. Of all the children Valjean should pass fetching water in the woods … it’s Cosette! Of all the police inspectors the nosy neighbour could report to … it’s Javert! Of all the nuns in the whole of Paris, it’s a nun he already knows! There’s no plot without these coincidences, so we have to forgive them. But they can feel harder to overlook in adaptations than in a novel, and require the poor actors to have to work even harder to style it out and make it look like this was meant to happen.
Some beautiful moments this week, though, and you can’t fault them for a) keeping it real and b) being faithful to the original. However, I can’t help but feel it would be even better to watch The Tale of the Hair and Teeth Dealer. More hair and teeth dealer! More!
Least convincing romantic encounter
How believable is the relationship between Monsieur and Madame Thénardier? In the first two episodes, I was hesitant. Why wouldn’t she run away from him? Why should we believe that she would stay? Neither character is an easy part to play straight and they’re far more easily portrayed as ghouls or clowns (as in the Hollywood version). But somehow the portrayal here feels real and menacing, with Adeel Akhtar and Colman able to wring the occasional ounce of comedy out of a tricky situation. Not easy when what they are depicting is so nasty. This was the most awkward bit: “Would you like the girl in here with you for a small consideration? No need for the wife to know.” This exchange encapsulated the difference between Les Misérables the musical and this version. Unflinchingly horrible and realistic, with a real awareness of just how sadistic these characters were in Victor Hugo’s universe.
The Gwyneth Paltrow onion for tears on demand
The onion is awarded alongside a large hunk of bread and cheese to Dominic West for having the ability to wring tears out of a stone. His relationship with Cosette could have seemed cheesy or creepy, and yet was deeply touching. She represents his redemption as a human being. She is his one chance to prove to himself that he is the man he says he is. Every wrinkle of West’s brow and every tiny gesture transmits this. Bravo!
“Ecoutez et répétez!” Classic miserable lines
• “Gavroche, my darling child, to think you nearly got left behind.” Beautifully sneered by Colman.
• “Are you the felon Jean Valjean?” “I’ve never heard of Jean Valjean.” Sometimes it felt like a competition to say “Jean Valjean” as often as possible. And why not? If you get to win Jean Valjean as a prize, I’m in.
• “This is a holy house of women. No man can enter.” Translation: “Normally we wouldn’t let any men in. But I have noticed that you are Dominic West. Please come in.”
