Does the end ever justify the means?
When Jean Valjean steals a loaf of bread to save his starving nephew, he is sentenced to slavery under the watchful eye of police inspector Javert. So begins Les Miserables, one of the best-known novels of the 19th-century, later becoming Schönberg’s hit musical, which in turn has now been adapted for the big screen.
Valjean (Hugh Jackman) is eventually freed from slavery but soon breaks his parole. A selfless bishop shows him incredible mercy, and tells him that he has been blessed to become a blessing: ‘See in this some higher plan. / You must use this [experience] / To become an honest man. / [...] God has raised you out of darkness / I have bought your soul for God’.
‘The world may be changed’
Despite the condemning words of Javert (Russell Crowe) — ‘Men like you can never change’ — when we see Valjean six years later he has found in God what he failed to find in the world: the strength and hope to turn his life around. By hiding the truth about his past he has become mayor in the town where he is a prosperous factory owner. He cares for orphans and widows, protects the sick and imprisoned, he even saves lives. On meeting a former employee, now a dying prostitute (Anne Hathaway), he promises to act as a father to her only daughter, Cosette. But when Inspector Javert is posted to his town, Valjean’s cover is blown.
Valjean and Cosette escape and live a quiet existence in Paris, until a group of revolutionary students in the area plan an uprising. When Valjean discovers that Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) has fallen in love with one of the front-line fighters (Eddie Redmayne), he will once again be required to display his bravery and generosity of spirit, all the while pursued by Javert.
‘The man of mercy’
As an imperfect human who has experienced the redemption of God, Valjean provides an example of altruistic charity for the other characters. His conflict with Javert enacts a clash between the letter of the law and the spirit of forgiveness. Justice and mercy seem incompatible to ‘les miserables’, who live in a world which seems to hate them, and in which it seems that ‘sweet Jesus doesn’t care’. Yet, through their prayer and protestations, they come to learn that the greatest revolution is not political in nature, but spiritual: it is that of the heart. The most radical actions are those of forgiveness and grace. Such action leads us to recognise the divine; indeed: ‘To love another person / Is to see the face of God’.
It is very rare to see a film so rousing that the audience both cries and claps at its conclusion, but this is just what happened when I saw it on its opening night. I left the darkened auditorium ‘with courage and cheer’, elated at seeing mercy triumph and with a zeal for spiritual revolution. ‘And I’m saying thank heaven for that!’
Rachel Helen Smith works as an events planner and freelance writer in Cambridge. More of her articles are available at http://www.rachelhelensmith.com
