Into the Woods (2015)

The thing about musicals is that they’re melodramatic. I’m not their biggest fan but, the way I understand it, the conceit is this: emotional things happen and excitement swells until the characters involved just cannot keep from spontaneously exploding with all of their joy and sadness into song. Which is fine. I mean, it’s weird, but every genre has its rules, so fine.

When they work on stage, the best musicals have big characters brimming with melodrama. This is partly so audiences on the back row can see what’s going on (and partly because the songs have to be justified somehow). On film, you don’t need to be so big. You have to find ways of communicating the brash audacity of a stage show with devices particular to the medium. That’s how Les Miserables (2012) worked; that’s how Sweeney Todd (2007) worked. Both of these films feel like films. Rob Marshall’s Into the Woods feels like a filmed musical, a throwaway money-spinner.

Les Mis was big in that its characters maintained the melodrama of the stage and were then knowingly filmed in portrait-style close-ups to give audiences a perspective they could never have even sitting on the front row in a theatre. That’s really smart.

Sweeney Todd was big in that, in the hands of a gothic auteur, it was drenched in the visual language of a silent movie and injected with pace by a man who knows a few things about cutting.

As with adapting novels, so with adapting musicals. You won’t offend anyone by blandly covering all the angles and making sure the actors read the script and sing the songs. But it takes a bolder attitude to make it a worthwhile endeavor. The wit of Sondheim and his distinctively angular vocal lines will always be a pleasant thing to sit through but that’s where the good time ends. As a film, Into the Woods just feels exhausting and unnecessary.

Les Misérables (2013)

Released mid-January and with a trailer that revels in the glory of its stars’ past Academy Award decorations, Les Misérables was being sold as typical Oscar fodder even before the inevitable nominations came last week. Of the flood of contenders cropping up this month, only Lincoln plays this card stronger. Despite its accolade-angling shine and the overall safety of its casting and direction, the film, as it happens, is a good one.

It begins with an ostentatious shot that takes us from an underwater French flag up through the bough of a ship and swoops right down to find Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman) rope-hauling the massive vessel with hundreds of fellow slaves. Something seems amiss. The screen seems unusually narrow for such an epic shot; the 1.85:1 ratio is industry standard but barely does it justice. Surely, the panoramic 2.35:1 is much better suited to the job? It is definitely the most popular for productions of this size – of the current box office top 10, only Pitch Perfect and Parental Guidance (neither big awards contenders) are filmed in 1.85:1.

But as the film settles, it becomes clear why director Tom Hooper eschewed the wider format. Les Misérables is a character piece and stays tight on its subjects. But for the odd exception (a shot which tracks back from a cliff before diving down into a street, and one that leaps over a cross-topped steeple to settle on a people-packed funeral), its characters’ faces are scrutinised for almost 3 hours in shallow focus close-ups.

Under this intense inspection, the cast excels – Jackman and Anne Hathaway especially taking advantage of the opportunity to squeeze the emotional intensity out of every moment. The only exception is Amanda Seyfried whose reedy voice and bewildered expression undo the intrigue set up by her character Cosette’s child self (played for 10 minutes by Isabelle Allen). To be fair, Seyfried isn’t given much to work with; adult Cosette rather wilts in the corner while loveblind revolutionary Marius (Eddie Redmayne) courts her from the barricades. Having said that, I do love this shot of her wilting in the corner.

Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen carry their roles as perfectly pitched grimy opportunists in Sweeney Todd (2008) through to this and it works just fine. Their Thénardiers lighten up the general miséry the plot, appearing first just after tragic event number one and being peppered through thereafter to divide the glum into palatable chunks.

The film is a little long. I presume the stage musical has an interval which allows the audience some rest and respite. Were the conventions of cinema similar, a ten minute breather might solve the issue.

I’m thinking about how else to discuss the film but I think a director generally can’t go wrong with such strong source material. The music really holds it together and carries it home safely and it is Hooper’s job to simply capture this without getting in the way. All he needs to do is add some stylistic touches here and there while sticking to his framing decisions to help its cohesive transition from stage to screen. And that’s exactly what he does.

While I’m sure the DVD sales of the film won’t disappoint those who profit from them, I think Les Misérables healthiest life will be as 5-minute song-size clips on the internet, where people will seek out small strong shots of the misérable without having to rerun the whole marathon.