The Les Miz Fatigue

Let me put this on record that for me, Les Miserables will always be my most favorite musical play of all time.

I was lucky to have watched this spectacular play in 1990 at Broadway in New York when I was with the University of the Philippines Concert Chorus World Tour. I had all the lyrics memorized in my head since the Les Miserables Medley was part of the repertoire we had to sing all over Europe and the United States. So for me to be able to marvel at the original Broadway cast singing right before my untrained eyes, together with my musical friends, was the most surreal feeling.

Hahahaha! 1990 vs. 2016. Spot the differences.

Twenty six years later, I watched Les Miserables again last April 16 at the Solaire Resort and Casino in Manila to celebrate the 22nd wedding anniversary with the Hubby. I even cajoled him into checking in at the Sky Room of Solaire to keep us less focused on the Metro traffic, and more mentally prepared to watch the show.

However, I felt...let's see, how do I put it without being sacrilegious? Unsated? Unmoved? Short-changed? Horror of horrors, I think I even spaced out three times during the show!

I wanted it to work for me, of course, since I had hoped to rub my excitement to the Hubby whom I had to literally beg to come with me (and pay the tickets and the hotel accommodation too! hahaha! ) because he's not into this musical thing-a-ma-jigs. It would be the first musical play for the Hubby ever, and I had wanted him to feel the same near orgasmic explosive experience when I watched it for the first time in 1990.

I felt giddy taking pictures with young Cosette.

But I didn't feel the intensity myself. It fell flat even for me.

Now I wanted to rationalize this. There was something lacking. My heart didn't soar high. My eyes didn't shed a tear. Why? Oh, why?

It wasn't because the cast was bad. Overall, the cast did their parts well, technically.  Jean Valjean and Javert dueled. Marius and Cosette sang and kissed. Enjolras was fiery (although I must say his hips swayed a tad bit higher while marching, which distracted me).

Is it too late for me to audition? 

In fact, Rachel Ann Go as Fantine was a revelation for me. Her English diction was clear and her pitch was perfect. She has really come a long way in the international musical theater scene.

The Hubby was awed at the set. Being an engineer, he sees those things more than the music. The 1990 version I saw had a revolving barricade. Now, we can only see the barricaders' perspective. The other side was just a mix of voice over and lighting effects to show that there were enemies on the opposite side.

So what was it? Was it because I thought that Solaire's stage was smaller? Was it because Eponine seemed to be rushing through her death scene? Was it because Jean Valjean's red tattoo cross on his chest was bigger than his Prisoner No. 24601?

After much thought, I think that what ruined everything for me was the lack of surprise and novelty. In this day and age of the internet, when we can see a gazillion versions of Les Miserables (or any other play for that matter) on YouTube, On My Own and I Dream a Dream are now ordinary pop songs in the mainstream. At least one Lez Miz song get sung as an audition piece on Britain's Got Talent or the Voice Kids. The songs have been watered down as too trite and common.

But what really, really sealed the coffin, I think, was THE movie Les Miserables. Don't get me wrong. I loved what director Tom Hooper did to translate the play to the big screen. I have watched it four times, and it never failed to make me cry. Except for Rusell Crowe who was a miscast as Javert (note: I'll let go of Amanda Siegfied, Cosette was not my favorite character anyway), I thought the cast gave justice to make Les Miz appeal to the masses.

And so maybe this overfamiliarity has made it less special and less thought-provoking. Now, I don't listen to the lyrics, but listen to how this actor compares to that actor when Jean Valjean sings Bring Him Home. I nitpick how all the other Eponines pale in comparison to Lea Salonga's interpretation of On My Own and A Little Fall of Rain at its 10th Anniversary Concert. I don't laugh anymore at the supposedly hilarious antics of the Thenardiers when they sing Master of the House. I was a step ahead while watching the play this time. If I could call it something, I'd probable term it as the Les Miz Fatigue.

One of my UPCC friends gave me a piece of advice on how to enjoy a play---he said to never compare. He said I should free my mind from any expectations, that I shouldn't sing the songs in my head, but listen to them like I am hearing them for the first time. It makes sense, I guess. Yes, Wizard Lionel, I shall do that next time. I promise.

'Wicked' next, anyone?