Outstretched hands and lingering embraces reveal that loving another person really is to see the face of God.
The “Les Misérables” national tour, directed by Laurence Connor and James Powell, will bring its tragic story to the Hollywood Pantages Theatre through June 2. Based on Victor Hugo’s novel of the same name, the musical follows Jean Valjean (Nick Cartell), a convict released on parole whose life transforms after a kind bishop shows him mercy. Valjean casts his name aside, vowing to be the man the bishop thought he could be. The musical follows Valjean throughout his life, culminating in the historically disastrous June rebellion of 1832.
Following a Tony award-winning revival in 2014, it would’ve been easy for Connor and Powell’s production to emulate every other version of the iconic musical. But by accentuating character’s emotional weight through intelligent staging and physical contact, the production adds a layer of tenderness to the poignant, familiar story.
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But the production’s solos, though typically responsible for carrying the characters’ emotional weight, fall flat in comparison to complex duets and exuberant ensemble numbers. The factory worker-turned-prostitute Fantine’s (Mary Kate Moore) rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream,” in particular, lacked much of the nuance necessary to convey her heartache. Moore was perfectly capable of belting out the song’s notes and did look quite somber doing so. But her voice sounded flat and blase, which was only emphasized by her stillness. Considering that the song is Fantine’s defining moment, Moore’s lackluster performance robs the character of depth.
“Stars” experienced a similar issue, with the dutiful cop Javert’s (Josh Davis) voice remaining deep and low throughout the number. Davis delivered strong but unaffected vocals, emitting almost no emotions. What saved the performance was Davis’ calculated actions – briskly putting his top hat back on and tapping his fingers against his baton – as well as his character unraveling later on during Javert’s “Soliloquy,” which elevated his solo from run-of-the-mill to masterful.
Valjean’s “Soliloquy” during the prologue also has its issues. He hits a few notes beautifully – most notably, drawing out the final line “another story must begin” – but his performance is consistently plagued by breathiness. Cartell hits notes beautifully, and his range is truly astounding, but during the in-between moments of each note, he seethes with rage. It was clearly a specific character choice, as it lessens over the course of the musical. But Cartell relies on it far too heavily in the first act, leaving his early performances feeling slightly stifled.
Throughout the course of the musical, however, Cartell’s performance grows beautifully. At one point during his breathtaking rendition of “Bring Him Home,” Valjean points to the sky, begging God to save Marius (Joshua Grosso), his daughter’s love interest, then sweeps his hand toward the sleeping boy. The moment is understated, but feels desperate and pleading, as if he is trying to sweep God’s mercy onto Marius in the same way the bishop did to him. As the song comes to a close, Cartell slowly clasps his hands, bending forward as if finalizing his prayer. It is a beautiful moment of stillness, and Valjean’s despair is palpable.
And it is such small moments between characters that provide the show’s emotional foundation. Love is often revealed through lingering glances and extended physical contact – a conceit initiated when the bishop kneels with a beaten down Valjean. As he places his hand on the convict’s shoulder and then mirrors the actions of baptism, God’s mercy and forgiveness feel tangible on the stage.
Drawn-out physical contact appears several times throughout the production, such as when Marius and Cosette (Jillian Butler) sing “A Heart Full of Love.” Marius – bumbling and awkward as Grosso’s voice purposefully broke with nerves – stares at Cosette, and the two slowly approach each other, masterfully drawing out the scene’s emotional tension.
All the while, the impoverished, lovelorn Éponine (Paige Smallwood) stands separated, clutching the bars of the gate and staring as the two eventually grasp hands and embrace. As Éponine slowly walks away, the three of them harmonize – Grosso and Butler convey an intense love while Smallwood’s forlorn expression exposes her heartbreak. The staging is purposeful and intelligent, emphasizing Marius and Cosette’s budding relationship through their slow touches and Éponine’s solitude.
Later on, after Valjean forgives Javert and releases him, he grasps the other man’s shoulder. Javert pauses, rolling the shoulder Valjean touched before walking away. Such small movements reveals the former’s emotional turmoil, which will culminate in Javert’s “Soliloquy.” Davis’ performance, though subtle, draws attention to his character’s inability to accept the mercy that transformed Valjean’s life, excellently juxtaposing the two characters.
And in the final scenes, as Valjean joins hands with Fantine and Éponine, “The People’s Song” softly begins to play and the dead emerge in the background, and the former convict lines up directly behind his daughter. Donning the same shade of orange he wore as a convict, Valjean proclaims that tomorrow will come while gazing at his daughter and son-in-law, who embrace on the ground.
By highlighting such physical connections, “Les Misérables” transforms a thoroughly dismal story into one of optimism. While the world is riddled with pain and sorrow, faith and hope can be reformed not through grand revolution and obedience, but through sharing love and forgiveness. And as the curtain drops over Marius and Cosette holding onto each other, the universe feels just a little bit less miserable.