A Few Disappointments

Christmas morning was great... and Christmas dinner turned out better than I could have expected. The food all turned out well, and making the casseroles the day before turned the whole cooking experience into a relaxed sort of dance. I even managed to play a few Christmas carols on the piano at one point. When does THAT happen?

But then the day turned not so wonderful. We went to see Les Miserables, and the hubby and I were both itching to be impressed. The film did not fulfill my expectations. I can't claim to be devastated, but the director was so fixated on facial expression that he filmed nearly everything in tight shots centered on each actor's face--to the detriment of any cinematography that might illuminate gesture, setting, etc. And his methods for filming meant actors could act--though Russell Crowe decided not to--but only a handful of them actually sang well, and I don't count Hugh Jackman among them. His voice was reedy and annoying, and his rendition of "Bring Him Home" made me positively cringe. Anne Hathaway was absolutely brilliant--truly--and many of the young students and both little kids could also sing--but otherwise the music was gritty and unlovely.

That was not the lowest point of the day, though. My little boy writhed through much of the film, complaining of a stomach ache... which wasn't fake, since the hubby ended up running out of the theatre with him so that he could heave up everything he'd eaten that day. I should have taken care of him, too, considering that I wasn't enjoying the film and I think the hubby was far less exacting than I and had been, up to that point, having a fantastic time.

We made a few hurling stops on the way home, and then my son fell asleep, emptied at last. I watched him overnight, to make sure I was there in case any last bit decided to come up on its own. Nothing did, and this morning he seems okay.

I just hope the hubby finds a time to go back to the movie and see it again--without anything to hinder his enjoyment of the film. Including me. Except for my criticisms here, I don't intend to say a single negative thing about the film to him--especially if he loves it. But I do not want to see it again.