Passengers Should Have Been Brave Enough To Explore Its Dark Premise

Imagine the scenario: your high-tech hibernation pod on the spaceship you're travelling in to colonize a far flung planet has popped open 90 years too early because of a technical malfunction. Faced with the knowledge that you will be long dead when everyone else wakes up, what do you do? According to Passengers, the answer is "doom a beautiful woman to the same fate and lie about the fact that said fate was in fact your choice. Fall in love with her then stalk her across the ship when she discovers the truth and wants nothing to do with you."

In another world, this would be the perfect setup for an exciting thriller with feminist undertones about men's entitlement to women's bodies. But if you can believe it, Passengers is meant to be a story of true love, forged in the fires of intergalactic peril.

No, I'm not kidding.

Other critics have noted the sinister undercurrent of the film's very premise, but the problem with Passengers is that it tried to have its cake and eat it too. Either you're making a film about unconscionable behavior in the vast emptiness of space, or you're making a romance drama about two people effectively lost to time who find love. It takes a level of skill that this film lacks to blend the two successfully.

Things I Love: Top 5 Movies Of 2015

I had planned to try to get a couple posts done for today but with all the work I've been doing I haven't had time. But I wanted to find some way to send 2015 neatly on its way, so here I present to you, my favourite movies of 2015. They may not be the best movies, or the most critically acclaimed, (though granted, most of them are) but they are movies that made me enjoy being at the movies, and gave me the movie-watching experience that I hope for every time I step through the double doors and into the theatre. Looking at the list, I can confirm what I've suspected all year; I really like the science fiction genre, and I wish I hadn't felt so unwelcome within it as a child. Give me a killer robot or a dystopia and I'm there. In any case, here are my five favourite movies of 2015, presented in no particular order.

CREED/ROCKY VII
I initially didn't realize that Creed was a Rocky sequel until closer to the film's release. All I knew was that my bae Michael B. Jordan looked hot and ready in the trailer, and I was going to see it to make up for the abysmal Fantastic Four movie. What I got was so much better. I'm not particularly familiar with the Rocky franchise (it's about boxing, Stallone is in it, there are some stairs he runs up that one time?) so I was able to watch this film and enjoy it on its merits. The great cinematography, the great casting, the solid, emotional performances from MBJ and Sylvester Stallone specifically, but also the quiet and resonant performances from Phylicia Rashad and Tessa Thompson. The incredible soundtrack and a plot that didn't plod or pander, but told a rich, fulfilling story of a young man trying to prove his worth to himself and the world while standing in the shadow of the legacy of a father he never knew. It was amazing all around and I can't wait to see it get showered with awards.

Mad Max: Fury Road And The Great Feminism Debate

After all the hoopla, debate, and thinkpieces, I finally saw Mad Max: Fury Road last night and it did not disappoint. The movie was a masterpiece of the senses and totally overwhelmed me with how engaging it was on all fronts. By about 15 minutes in I was at the edge of my seat whispering "this is amazing. This is AMAZING!" to myself. Basically, I loved it. I'm listening to the soundtrack as I type this.

But aside from its prestige, the other reason this film has been generating so much press is because of its overt feminist themes. Early reviews praised it for it's feminism, and MRAs called for a boycott. The director George Miller noted that he hadn't set out to make a feminist film, but things had unfolded that way organically as the story progressed:

"There wasn't a feminist agenda... The thing people were chasing was to be not an object, but the five wives. I needed a warrior. But it couldn't be a man taking five wives from another man. That's an entirely different story. So everything grew out of that."

Additionally, much ado was made of the fact that feminist playwright, Eve Ensler was a consultant on set to talk about her work in the Congo. That in itself gave me reason to doubt the film's growing feminist cred be honest. Eve Ensler does not have the best track record of inclusion and her "work" in the Congo specifically was insensitive and reprehensible.

So what do I think now that I've seen it for myself?

Tropes vs Women: "Ruby Sparks" As The Manic Pixie Dream Girl

You may have heard that Nathan Rabin, the writer who coined the term "Manic Pixie Dream Girl" and named the trope apologized last week for doing so, saying:

"The trope of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a fundamentally sexist one, since it makes women seem less like autonomous, independent entities than appealing props to help mopey, sad white men self-actualize. Within that context, the phrase was useful precisely because, while still fairly flexible, it also benefited from a certain specificity."

Despite the fact that the piece itself comes across as being disingenuously self-aggrandizing, I actually both agree and disagree with Rabin's apology. While he's right that the term has been wrongfully expanded to encompass characters that only vaguely fit the bill, the term itself is perfectly suited to the purpose for which it was coined: to identify female characters who exist solely for the purpose of helping a male protagonist self-actualize. 

Rabin cites Zoe Kazan's (writer and star of the film Ruby Sparks) criticisms of the term as one of the reasons he is apologizing, but I don't agree with her take on the situation either. While she's spot on that writers rely on cultural props to signify personality rather than doing the work to flesh out their female characters, this is the very practice that the manic pixie dream girl trope is meant to critique. The term itself isn't meant to be shorthand for "quirky and cute." Though I see how it has morphed into that through usage, the term is meant to be an identifier, not an accusation. To me, Ruby Sparks is a movie about exposing the lie of the manic pixie dream girl. The film centers on a protagonist who literally manifests a woman in order to serve his ego,  and then gets bent out of shape when she dares to have an inner life of her own. The term "manic pixie dream girl" is a condemnation of the trope as a literary crutch, not the personalities that often get associated with the term.

I actually loved Ruby Sparks. It's a great movie that you should check out if you haven't seen it, but the message that I got from it (which, I guess wasn't want Kazan was trying to convey apparently...?) was that the movie was a direct dissection of the trope. Ruby is initially presented to the audience as a one-dimensional paper-thin character who gradually reveals herself to be a whole lot more, much to the chagrin of her writer boyfriend/creator who only wanted an MPDG to serve his emotional whims. When he realizes that she is beginning to develop a unique personality, he intentionally fucks with her to try to keep her from self actualization because he's afraid (and rightly so, the little shit) that she'll want more or better than him as she allows herself to become a whole person who exists outside his personal desires. 

The movie is actually pretty brilliant. But I saw the film as a way to pinpoint the fact that no matter how reductively you to try to frame them, women are more than backgrounds upon which men can work through their personal demons, and to highlight the specific kind of hipster/artist fantasy that leads to the creation of one dimensional female characters of this sort in the first place; essentially, to undermine the MPDG trope. I thought that came through loud and clear. To me, Ruby is  a manic pixie dream girl, but the wit of the film comes from demonstrating all the problems that would arise if women really were just the aimless supporting characters in the lives of their men.

At the end of it, I think "manic pixie dream girl" is a useful and instructive term that describes a sexist phenomenon, and excising it from our cultural lexicon is pointless. I do think that we need to be more nuanced about our application of the trope instead of simply using it to signify any character who happens to approach Zooey Deschanel's orbit.

On The Erasure of People Of Colour From Dystopian Fiction

I've been thinking a lot about the comments made by Noah co-screenwriter Ari Handel that have been circulating recently. Asked about the extreme whiteness of the cast, Handel said that the "the race of the individual doesn't matter." Presumably this was meant to be a defense:

"From the beginning, we were concerned about casting, the issue of race. What we realized is that this story is functioning at the level of myth, and as a mythical story, the race of the individuals doesn't matter. They're supposed to be stand-ins for all people. Either you end up with a Bennetton ad or the crew of the Starship Enterprise."

Handel's comments were so completely bizarre to me because of how blatantly they reinforced the problematic idea that whiteness is a universal experience that everyone and anyone can relate to. He acknowledges that the movie is myth (and therefore a fiction they have created, over which they have total control) yet refuses to acknowledge that this does not in any way, logically translate into an all-white cast. His words reminded me of a little quote from novelist Kayla Ancrum I stumbled upon a little while ago while perusing a tumblr blog about women of colour in sci-fi and fantasy:

"Seriously guys, put PoC in your sci-fi movies, books, and tv shows. Seeing a film with none of them at all is actually kind of scary for me."

"It would be like you sitting down to watch a movie about a dystopian near future and there are absolutely no men and the plot doesn't address that at all. Like, literally wouldn't your first thought be that men were at some point eradicated completely by the women?"

"That is what we're pretty much forced to think about your entirely white fictional society. Maybe y'all herded us into death camps Maybe y'all just shot us all in the streets. All I know is there are none of us left and no one seems to find it suspicious or unusual."

"If you don't want people to think that about your work, then for the love of God, include us in your narrative."

It got me thinking. What does it mean that so many white authors and filmmakers find it perfectly natural to erase the presence of people of colour from their dystopian narratives? Forget addressing the issue of fleshing out actual minority characters, but literally just not including them at all?

Illustraion by Ron Ackins

The usual argument here is that authors are allowed to create whatever characters and worlds they wish, and that they shouldn't be forced to be "politically correct" about their imaginations. In theory, I agree. But when we exist a world where racial disparities often dictate things like access to wealth, proper healthcare, proper education and fair treatment under the law, it's disingenuous to pretend that continuing to marginalize people of color in fictional venues is anything less than equally egregious. The fact that so many authors think that it's not a problem to completely omit the very existence of millions of people and cultures entirely when constructing a narrative, is a product of white supremacy and the attitudes and thinking that come with it.

I've seen it said that the reason many black authors gravitate towards futurism in their works of fiction is because it allows them to envision a different world where they set the rules and I can definitely see the appeal. With the ability to craft a narrative completely from scratch, science fiction is a way to create characters that reflect us, as well as help us explore a world free from the political constraints that plague us in the real world. It's why speculative fiction is so intriguing to me. At it's core, it's all about answering the question, "What if?"

To me, this is why I tend to lean towards Ancrum's thinking. If we're talking dystopias; worlds in which the theoretical apocalypse has already come and gone, and there are no people who look like me in it? I'm going to wonder about why that is. I'm going to wonder if that whiteness was intentionally constructed by the people who remain in that world. I'm going to wonder if the people like me were exterminated. There is, after all, a "historically accurate" precedent for that assumption.

When it comes to an author or filmmaker having free reign over their imagination, my concern about their inclusion of people of color isn't about trying to please everyone. It's about wondering what kind of thinking they live by wherein minority people simply do not exist, the issue is never mentioned, and the fact that they are nowhere to be found is nothing to be alarmed about. It makes me wonder about the kind of people they are that their race blindness is so severe that even in their minds, we're invisible. Or worse, that the only people they recognize as human, are white.

Personally, I think the lack of diversity in science fiction is particularly egregious because it's the one area where you can't claim "historical accuracy." Speculative fiction opens up possibilities that would never exist in the real world, allowing us to imagine scenarios that we could only dream of in real life. That so many of those imagined possibilities still include whiteness as the default, to the point of whitewashing characters originally imagined as non-white, is disheartening.

When you get to create a world completely from scratch, where you could rewrite the laws of gravity or the science behind genetics should you so choose, but your vision of all the people is still lily white? I really do find that worrisome. It bugs me that people are more easily able to imagine the existence of non-human intelligent beings, or interactions with a completely alien race, than that a protagonist might be anything other than white. It tells me that in the real world, we have a problem imagining the humanity of people of color. It tells me that as a culture we still see people of color as nothing more than bit players in the lives of white characters, if we even see them at all. Why is it that so many people find nothing problematic about the willful erasure of people of color from their visions of the future? Because there's a real and almost tangible problem with race if audiences can suspend their disbelief enough to accept that a fictional character can burst in to flames, repeatedly, at will, and not die, but not enough to accept that the same character could be black.

I don't think that we should force our way into meetings and demand that casts be more diverse, or hold authors hostage until they rewrite the features of their protagonists, but I also don't think there's anything wrong with continuing to hold people accountable for the prejudices they may display through their creative choices. I can't force anyone to recognize the implications of the message they send when they simply "forget" to write minority people into existence, but I can keep pointing out how those biases in fiction, in representation, continue to affect the way we interact with race in the real world.

In the same way that authors and filmmakers continue to question why they should include people of color in their narratives, I continue to ask:
What exactly is it do they think their stories will lose if they did?

#BlackGirlsKillingIt: All Hail Lupita Nyong'o

via USA Today

And the Oscar goes to Lupita Nyong'o! I don't have anything more to say about her impact on pop culture, or my feelings about her that hasn't already been said, or that I didn't say the last time I mentioned her, but I am beyond over the moon that the academy gave her the recognition she deserved. 12 Years A Slave is a powerful film with many powerful performances, but Lupita, as a newcomer, really stood out for bringing the visceral pain of Patsey to life. Her performance was heart-wrenching and triggering as hell, but it was worth it to see that pain be so passionately portrayed, when stories of slavery are so often diluted in order to assuage white guilt.

With last night's win, Lupita becomes only the 7th black woman to take home an Oscar in the academy's 75 year history. That's MAJOR. I love everything about this woman; her talent, her humility, her poise and her style. I love her conscious acknowledgement of what her visibility means for black women, and especially dark skinned black women. I love that she constantly pays respect to the women who came before her and gave her to confidence to believe that she was worthy. I love her understanding of her place in Hollywood because of her skin colour and her willingness to be vocal about pushing against it. Lupita is such a spectacular woman and talent and she deserved the hell out of this award.

I only hope that this win translates into a huge career, full of meaty roles worthy of a woman of her talents. Don't ever sleep on us black girls. We are coming for you, and we're taking over.

Lusty, Busty & Fine: Jill Scott in "Baggage Claim" Shows That Big Girls Can Get Sexy Too

Today, I finally saw the Paula Patton led movie, Baggage Claim, and it was.... a predictably mediocre romantic comedy. Girl meets guy, girl wants ring, guy cheats, girl shame spirals and tries to get any one of several ex-boyfriend to propose, girl's plan fails, girl realizes the right guy was (literally) next door the whole time. And, fin. So, terrible. I did like the man-candy though.

But what stuck out to me in this film was Jill Scott's character Gail, best friend to Patton's Montgomery. Gail, a fellow flight attendant, is like Scott, plus-sized and busty. But she's also blatantly sexual. From the first few scenes of the movie, we establish that Gail is "that girl"; the one who has no shame and chases after her men the way she chases her drinks.

Normally, the idea of yet another hypersexualized black female character would irritate me, but this was different. We have very specific narratives for how we interact with black women in the media. We get the Jezebels, and we get the Mammies. The Jezebels are sleek, sexy and can't keep their legs closed. The Mammies are overweight and asexual; never the twain shall meet. But with Gail, we have a voluptuous woman, who is very sexual, and not even a little bit ashamed of it. It was refreshing for me to see a plus-sized black woman engage with men sexually onscreen, and not be the subject of derision.

The contrast that immediately comes to mind is the way in which sexual plus-sized women are so often played for laughs in comedies. Take Melissa McCarthy's character, Megan Price in Bridesmaids. In that infamous scene with the Air Marshall, Megan comes on strong and makes her sexual interest very well known. We laugh, not because there's anything particularly funny about her being so forthcoming, (if anything, it borders on sexual harassment and really isn't funny) but because "Ha, ha! The fat girl thinks he'd want to have sex with her!" Her fatness nullifies her sexual attractiveness, making the scene funny because of the audience's incredulity at the situation.

It also makes me think of other plus-sized black female characters like Retta's Donna Meagle on Parks & Recreation's. Donna's active sex life is a running gag on the show that is often referenced, but we've never actually seen any of the many men she claims to bed. We see the expensive cars they gift her, and we hear tales of the different ways in which she doesn't tolerate their nonsense, but we have yet to see Donna actually have a romantic storyline. It's fine for the big black woman to have lots of sex, as long as we're only made to laugh at it.

What really made me love Gail's portrayal in Baggage Claim was that fact that all the men she came onto over the course of the film were totally into it. Her sexuality wasn't played for laughs in a cruel way. The scenes are entirely believable, and rather than thinking of Jill Scott's weight, we're thinking that we all have that friend who behaves exactly like her. Here, the situation is funny because of the "this woman has no shame, oh my god, I could never" element. We're not ashamed of her. We're rooting for her.

In the scene that the picture above is taken from, Gail spills peanuts on the passenger's lap in order to have an excuse to dust his pants, and shove her cleavage into his face. As you can tell from the picture, the man is... rather enjoying the display. There's no disgust, there's no incredulity. This man is depicted as being just as sexually interested in Gail as we the audience might expect him to be in Montgomery; read, skinny women. I think that's the a huge deal, no pun intended. Too often, plus-seized women are excised from the pool of sexuality for no other reason than the fact that they aren't thin, when the fact remains that being overweight doesn't mean that your libido evaporates, or that you're no longer desirable.

All in all, I think that this character is great. If I'm honest, Jill Scott is just about the only bright spot in this movie, but that's an issue for another time. I really enjoyed seeing a plus-sized black woman be sexy onscreen without it being seen as problematic in some way. No one slut-shames her, no one condemns her behaviour. Gail is left to her own lusty devices, and it's not an issue. She gets to express and explore her sexuality without being told that her desire to do so is ridiculous because of her weight. That's in stark contrast to another of Jill Scott's characters: Sheila in Why Did I Get Married, whose husband laughs at her for trying to be sexy for him.

Moral of the story? Jill Scott is a gem, I love her and it's refreshing to see the big girls get sexy onscreen. More please!

[Movie Review] Gravity: A World Filled With Awe

These days, I approach all media critically as a matter of course. It comes naturally to me to look for the symbolism and coded messages present in any body of work. When people create, it's with an eye for transmitting a message; a way to convey their interpretation of the world, and the exciting thing about television and films is delving into those varied perspectives.

But I've just come from seeing the film Gravity for the first time and all I can say is, "WOW." I'm not entirely sure I'm able to form a cohesive thought about this movie because I'm so in awe.

The entire movie is like a slow motion ballet; elegant and graceful. The film's stars Sandra Bullock and George Clooney, float through the air like lithe nymphs acting out a play. And yet there are moments of such emotional intensity that it's almost unbearable. Gravity is beautifully shot. It is absolutely wonderful to look at, and it really gives weight to the majesty and vast intensity of space. So much of the movie is simply a stark contemplation on our individual insignificance amidst the expansiveness of the universe.

Alfonso Cuarón has created here a world that is familiar and yet completely foreign. He will not allow you to escape the profoundness of the world as seen from above, and he will force you to observe in awe, the spectacle that is our lowly place in the universe.

What struck me too, was the overwhelming silence of the film that spoke to the loneliness of Sandra Bullock's character, "Ryan Stone." There are several moments where her panicked breathing is the only thing between the audience and an utterly complete lack of sound. Her sheer terror echoes all around you, and you can't escape it. The audience's first person perspective of her experience at several points heightened the suspense, and forced you to engage the film with all your senses. I paid rapt attention throughout, which is rare for me as I'm usually analyzing things internally as they unfold onscreen. This time, it was all I could do to take it in.

Plot-wise, this entire movie could probably be summed up on one sentence, but critically, there is so much here about the human condition that I genuinely don't feel qualified to talk about it. There is a reverence here; a respectful understanding that there is so much more than ourselves in play. This is a movie about disaster yes, but not the one you think. Gravity deals with not just the disaster, but the aftermath; how do you continue to survive when you think all hope is lost? How do you push forward when you've exhausted your options? How do you fight when you have nothing left to live for?

We get to the heart of these questions primarily through Bullock's character, and boy does her performance deliver. We learn that Ryan Stone had a daughter who died in an accident, and that her death has weighed heavily on her heart, keeping her from moving forward and from pushing through; from doing any more than is required. But by the end of the film, Stone has reached deep into the depths of her pain to find the will to live. To fight against all odds to survive and to come out on the other side of her pain. Her final triumph makes the previous tribulations seem worth it; she found the strength to survive. Her struggles meant something.

All in all, I'm glad that I gave the film a shot. It has sent me into a contemplative tailspin for which I'm grateful. Gravity is an exquisitely beautiful and haunting translation of the trials of the human spirit. It will stay with you in a way that no other film ever has.

[Movie Review] TTFF2013 Premiere: Half Of A Yellow Sun

Sometimes a human story is all it takes.

Not having read the novel by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, I went into the screening of TTFF2013's opening night film, Half Of A Yellow Sun on Tuesday last, completely blind in terms of characterization and plot. The film, starring Thandie Newton and Chiwetel Ejiofor, was making it's Trinidadian debut after premiering in the Toronto International Film Festival the week before. 

The story is set in Nigeria during the Nigerian-Biafran war of 1967-1970, and focuses largely on the personal relationship between Olanna and Odenigbo, (Newton and Ejiofor respectively) and their struggle to survive during the a bloody civil war.

The couple go through familiar relationship rigors; testy in-laws, infidelity, hints at infertility; but they decide to commit to each other fully in a world that is crumbling around them, where the people they love are here one day and gone the next in frequently increasing air strikes that result from the war.

I'm not extensively familiar with Ejiofor's work, but after this performance, I want to see more. His turn as the philandering, drunkard Odenigbo is composed of just enough conviction mixed with lingering doubt to bring the character to life. He allows us to both dismiss Odenigbo when he tries to justify his infidelity to Olanna by saying he was raped, but also to empathize with his inner struggle as he realizes that he cannot provide the life he wants to for his family in the middle of  bloody civil war. 

Newton too, is brilliant. Her performance is reminiscent of the one she gave as Tangie Adrose in For Coloured Girls, not in characterization, but in thrust. Newton as Olanna is conflicted and hurt, but also self-assured. She makes you believe in her choices, (for example, to take Odenigbo back) even when you don't agree. Her grief though, hooks you. When she confronts Odenigbo about his betrayal, and again later, when a central character is presumed dead, her performance is raw and wounded. It feels intrusive to witness that much of someone else's pain.

Fleshing out the list of memorable performances was Anika Noni Rose as Kainene, twin sister to Olanna. I have seen little of Rose's work onscreen but here she shines; bringing a regality to Kainene's haughty dismissal of her sister's "revolutionary" lover. Her scenes against Newton are where she really steals the spotlight. Dry and disdainful, Kainene's conversations with Olanna highlight Rose's ability to play more than just the diminished black woman, a la For Coloured Girls or Dreamgirls. Here, she takes control, and moves the pieces on her chess board according to her often apathetic whims.

John Boyega holds his own against this stellar line up, as Odenigbo's houseboy Ugwu. Unitentionally funny in many scenes, his silent loyalty to Olanna and Odenigbo is endearing, and his educational ambitions pay off well later down the line. Boyega does well to make Ugwu a character we love but do not feel sorry for with his wide-eyed and open hearted portrayal. 

It is a unique experience to watch a film in a Trinidadian audience. The effect is pronounced if the film is an action movie or a comedy, but it happens in dramas too. In Trinidad, compelling characters and stories on film can unite an audience, and it happened that night as the crowd dissolved into the stories of these Nigerian protagonists. To me, that is a sign that the film excels; it made watching the film a communal experience among hundreds of people who had never met. 

Half Of A Yellow Sun is a compelling drama that I would definitely recommend, and rewatch. Great performances, a human struggle and suspenseful storyline collide here to form a timeless tribute to the resistance of the human spirit in the face of war times struggle. I enjoyed myself immensely, and the film has prompted me to seek out more of Adiche's work. 

In short? It excels.

[Movie Review] Django Unchained: Spaghetti Westerns And Absurdist History

via Afrobella

With all the controversy surrounding Django Unchained upon its release, I purposely waited until after awards season to watch and review the movie. As much as I love getting into the thick of things, I'd already  seen and read so much about the merits and failings of Quentin Tarantino's latest offering that I knew that there was no way I could love or hate it in a void. I needed distance. So now, two weeks after the airing of the 85th Annual Academy Awards (at which Django won for Best Original Screenplay), I'm finally sitting down to ruminate on how I felt about this movie.

I almost don't know what to say about Django Unchained, but I will say this: I didn't hate it.

I've never seen any of Quentin Tarantino's other films. From the trailers alone , he seems to specialize in a kind of overwrought, violent camp that does not appeal to me. But Django was his first directorial credit since 2009's Inglorious Bastards, the film featured several actors that I loved, the buzz was deafening, and it was literally the movie on everyone's lips,so I decided to make an exception and see it.

My conclusions? It wasn't necessarily worth all the hype. It was not a bad movie, and I'll even say that I mostly enjoyed it. I was amused at the choice to shoot so much of it spaghetti western style (since I hate westerns with a passion), and I loved Christopher Waltz's performance as the gun happy, dentist-cum-bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz. Jaime Foxx gave possibly one of the best performances of his career, and it became clear to me that whether he plays a house slave or the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., nobody fucks with motherfucking Sam Jackson.

[Movie Review] Les Misérables: Hits And Misses

Images via Beyond Hollywood

Possibly the most (over)hyped movie of the year, the most recent incarnation of Les Miserables, stars Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean, Russell Crowe as Javert, Anne Hathaway as Fantine, Amanda Seyfried as Cosette, with Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter as the Thenardiers. Directed by Tom Hooper, the man behind the Academy Award winning The King's Speech, Les Miserables is a big, broad movie that embraces its considerable largess. 

There are problems of course. Hooper's insistence on sticking the camera firmly in every singing face is off-putting. I suspect I may well know every nook and cranny of Anne Hathaway's tonsils. To add insult to injury, the camera work is shaky; an artistic choice I'm sure, but a highly irritating one from the audience's point of view. The dialog is hard to follow at times as it is sung all the way through. This is no fault of Hooper's of course, but newcomers to the musical may find it difficult to follow along. 

There are very lovely touches though. The light melody of "One Day More" plays throughout and transitions into other numbers beautifully. It goes a long way to tie the movie together tonally, and helps dictates the mood from beginning to end. Tangentially, I found myself highly amused by the plethora of poor dental work, and the muskets that were good for only one shot. 

But the real selling point of the movie is its stars. From Wolverine's feats of strength to seeing Catwoman's head shaved and teeth pulled, the cast is varied, but ultimately strong.