A girlfriend of mine was checking in to see if I wanted to go see the movie version of Les Miserables with her. Of course I wanted to see the movie, but more than that, I wanted to go somewhere and sit in comfortable chairs in the dark for 2 1/2 hours and not have to fetch anything, or cut up anyone’s meat, or find anything, or give direction. I mentioned the prospect to Fiddledaddy who seemed a bit downcast at the prospect of my seeing the movie without him.
I asked him if he could remember the last movie we saw together IN AN ACTUAL THEATRE without our entourage. He could not. It was TITANIC, my friends.
Then he began to see the advantage of having a wife (trapped with 3 children ad nauseum over the last several months) get away for a girls night out. Perhaps some semblance of sanity might return to that particular wife if she could get away for a bit. Perhaps.
So off I went with two girlfriends (thank you Stacey and Annette), in the middle of the week, to sit in a darkened theater with, maybe, 3 other people. Tops.
Before the previews began rolling I received a text from Fiddledaddy asking me where the flame thrower was. So much for not having to find anything. Flame thrower in our house is code for that long Bic thing-a-ma-jig that I keep for lighting candles and Coleman stoves so that I don’t lose any fingerprints. I called him back to see why in the world he needed to set something ablaze. “What’s going on?” I asked as he answered. “Oh, I’m just dealing with Jensen’s behavioral issues.” I gasped, “AND THAT’S WHY YOU NEED THE FLAME THROWER?”
“No, no. I was going to light a candle on the back porch so we could have dinner outside.”
He’s a good dad.
Satisfied that everything was under control at home and no one was on fire, I settled back into my seat with my hydrogenated buttered popcorn. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never seen a theatrical production of Les Mis. But I’ve always loved the music. Which is a darn good thing because the ENTIRE THING IS SUNG.
People. I was floored. It was breathtaking. This movie has ruined me for any other movie theatre experience. Hugh Jackman deserves every acting award known to mankind. Anne Hathaway blew me away with her vulnerability. I was especially impressed with the actress who portrayed Eponine, Samantha Barks. Now I just want to sing my entire day. Maybe I wouldn’t yell as much…
And yes, I had a nice long ugly cry at the end, passing kleenexes down to my com padres.
I highly recommend this movie. Especially on the big screen. I can’t say that I would call it a chick flick, because I am going to find a way to see it with my husband, who I’ve no doubt will also love it. Prior to seeing Les Mis, I had an opportunity to read a review from a disgruntled husband, entitled “Les Miserables Taught Me How to Hate Again.” Hysterical.
So. Have you seen Les Miserables?