“LES MISERABLES” — 4 stars — Damien Bonnard, Alexis Manenti, Djibril Zonga — R (language throughout, some disturbing/violent content and sexual reference); Broadway; running time: 102 minutes
SALT LAKE CITY — There is a wonderful sequence just before the finale of Ladj Ly’s “Les Miserables.” We’ve spent the better part of two hours meeting a broad scope of interconnected rival characters, and they’ve all gone home for the night to prepare for a final conflict. Ly takes a few seconds with each one, showing us who they are behind the scenes — humanizing even those who at first glance seem to be villains. As the story gears up for its conclusion, each character feels flawed, sympathetic and real.
“Les Miserables” is not a direct adaptation of the Victor Hugo novel, nor is it a modern retelling of the classic story, as “West Side Story” was to “Romeo and Juliet.” Rather, this “Les Miserables” takes place in the neighborhood where Hugo wrote his novel, and is more of a contemporary reflection of the well-known story. It is remarkably effective.
Set in a rough suburban Parisian neighborhood called Montfermeil, far from traditional tourist iconography, Ly’s film follows the intense conflict between rival factions as a team of local policemen try to maintain law and order. We arrive on the heels of Brigadier Stephane Ruiz (Damien Bonnard), a recent addition to Montfermeil’s Anti-Crime Brigade, and as his two partners show him around, the neighborhood’s culture comes to life.
Drug lord Le Maire “The Mayor” (Steve Tientcheu) is the community’s unofficial boss, and the man most plugged into the goings-on. Le Maire and his group have a tense but stable relationship with the local Muslim Brotherhood, which tries to provide leadership to Montfermeil’s youth, but things are more volatile with a group of Eastern European immigrants who run a small-scale circus nearby.
Stephane takes all this in as his partners Chris (Alexis Manenti) and Gwada (Djibril Zonga) go through an ethically questionable routine that simultaneously establishes their authority and reinforces the distrust residents have developed for the police. Halfway through the film, using kinetic, almost documentary-like storytelling, Ly manages to paint a vivid portrait of a world just barely holding together.
The plot kicks into gear when a preteen boy named Issa (Issa Perica) steals a young lion from the circus, igniting tensions as the cub’s owners immediately blame The Mayor. Things get progressively worse when Stephane and his partners apprehend the boy and are recorded using excessive force as his friends try to fight back against the arrest.
The escalation builds to a third act that further amplifies the drama and intensity of an already fascinating film. Stephane is more or less the protagonist, partnered with the film’s antagonist, but thanks to Ly’s efforts, “Les Miserables” emotes a portrait of conflicted humanity that reserves judgment in a way that few if any similar films have achieved.
Little can be said about the film’s ending without giving too much away, but it is one of the best in recent memory, and while incredibly intense, the use of violence is comparatively muted (the film’s R-rating comes exclusively from the profanity that shows up in the subtitles).
“Les Miserables” is a French film, but it brilliantly addresses a very American issue with universal themes and highlights the humanity of its characters in a way few efforts have accomplished. It’s a rare cinematic sermon that allows its audience to have the final word.
Rating explained: “Les Miserables” draws an R-rating from scattered profanity, along with more of a PG-13 level of violence and intensity. It is presented in French with English subtitles.