For most of my life I had heard good things about Les Miserables the musical. And I greatly enjoy a good musical. For the last few years I’ve kept a lookout at the library for a copy, without success. I had heard the audiobook as a pre-teen, so I was sort of familiar with the story. Then, a few months ago, I noticed that one of my best friends had a copy of the 2012 DVD on a shelf with a whole bunch of others. I asked and was allowed to borrow it, so I excitedly took it home. As luck would have it, my parents (who are not musical-lovers) were out for the evening, so I had the tv to myself. I grabbed some food and settled down to be impressed, thinking a good musical would improve my sadness.

I watched and I waited for good music. Hugh Jackman sang and Russell Crowe sang and I don’t know if the songwriter failed or if the actors failed. I expected much more from Hugh Jackman, having greatly enjoyed The Greatest Showman. Then Mia Thermopolis – I mean, Anne Hathaway – sang, and her song (Fantine’s song, “I Dreamed A Dream”) was well written. I don’t love Anne Hathaway, and I’m not a great fan of her singing, but this song struck me anyway. Eponine’s song (“On My Own”) struck rather too close to home, though my circumstances were different and it would have been more painful a few months previously. So I enjoyed it, in a tearful “I feel your pain” sort of way.

The only other song that struck me was the one the revolutionaries sang as they prepared to fight. I couldn’t tell you what they sang, but the tune was stirring – a heroic echo of “I Dreamed A Dream”. Though there’s a chance I remember it because Honest Trailers had an episode about Les Mis, and they used that tune.

The film itself was dark, both in theme and often in lighting. I’m okay with the occasional thematically dark movie, but I don’t like movies with dark lighting – I fell asleep during each of the last three Harry Potter movies because they lacked light. Granted, this movie was more gray and brown than black, and granted, there was good reason for that, but I was underwhelmed.

The characters were fine when they weren’t singing. I’m not quite sure why Russell Crowe liked standing on the edge of parapets, but I recognized Newt Scamander – excuse me, Eddie Redmayne – and I loved that fearless little kid, Gavroche. As I said, I related to Eponine, but I enjoyed the antics of her parents.

When the movie ended, the sadness that I had started with had deepened, not diminished. Perhaps if I had watched it on a better day, without starting sad, it would have been a good experience. But I found Les Miserables to be… well, rather miserable. I have heard that there are better versions of the musical, and I hope one day to come across one and watch it when I’m in a good mood and not by myself. Perhaps then I’ll see it in a better light.