"Les Miserables" at the Kennedy Center
The Trump Version
Back in February, President Trump replaced the Kennedy Center Board of Trustees with a lot of people in his inner circle, naming himself as board chair and putting long-term loyalist Richard Grenell as interim Kennedy Center president. As Time magazine observed:
This time, Trump is not feeling as magnanimous. Over a matter of days, the President dismissed Kennedy Center board members appointed by Joe Biden to six-year terms, named himself the chairman of the governing body, and installed a loyalist, Richard Grenell, as its interim leader. On Wednesday, his total takeover of that institution seemed complete: a board entirely of Trump appointees unanimously made him the chairman, empowered, in effect, to police the artistic choices being made on the de facto national stage.
“We will make The Kennedy Center a very special and exciting place!” Trump posted on his social media platform.
One of the first shows the newly “special and exciting” Kennedy Center will stage is Les Miserables. They first performance will be at a big ticket fundraiser with President Trump in attendance. As CNN reported this week, several performers in the long-running crowd favorite have decided to boycott the performance.
At least 10 to 12 performers in Les Mis are planning to sit out the show on June 11, the night that Trump attends at the Kennedy Center, the sources said. The cast was given the option to not perform the night Trump will be in the audience, and both major cast members and members of the ensemble are among those sitting out, according to the sources.
The move highlights friction between the Trump administration and members within the center as the president has made an aggressive push to reshape it, thrusting the Washington, DC-based performing arts complex into the middle of culture wars.
The boycott follows Trump’s decision to effectively take control of the Kennedy Center as part of a widespread effort his administration has undertaken to bend American institutions – including cultural, legal and educational pillars – to the president’s will.
I will never forget seeing Les Mis for the first time in the late 1980s in the Chicago Auditorium theatre. It was the original broadway cast with Colm Wilkinson singing the role of Jean Valjean. I was blown away by the staging, the music, and the fundamental story of grace winning over law.
As I thought about the Trump team going to see Les Mis at the Kennedy Center, I wondered if they had ever paid attention to the actual storyline. I joked with my friend Josh on FaceBook that people need to know that law and order fanatic Inspector Javert isn’t the hero of the story. I also suggested that Oklahoma Superintendent of Education Ryan Walters might need to remove the barricade scenes so as not to give viewers the wrong idea about “peaceful protests”.
Seriously, the entire libretto would need to be re-written. Way too many of the scenes and songs raise uncomfortable realities for the administration’s policies. We could certainly make some “minor” tweaks.
I found a great site, LondonTheatre.com, that tells the story in Les Mis without simply using the lyrics1. From the very start of the prelude, we can tell that there is troubling content here that needs attention.
Our grim introduction to the hero of Les Misérables: Jean Valjean, aka prisoner 24601, among his fellow downtrodden convicts. He’s served hard time simply for stealing a loaf of bread to save his starving family. Valjean thinks he’s finally free, but prison guard Javert will always see him as a convict. So, it transpires, will society. This effective opening number sets up the big themes of the show — and the duel between Valjean and Javert.
Valjean is immediately arrested for stealing silver from the Bishop’s house. But at his darkest moment comes a ray of light: the Bishop, instead of pressing charges, tells the police that he had given the silver to Valjean. This moment of salvation is a musical reprieve from the punishing misery, too.
This is the major turning point for Valjean. As the Bishop states plainly: “I have bought your soul for God.” Here the lyrics are particularly evocative as Valjean castigates himself for acting like a “thief in the night… a dog on the run”. He decides to begin again — with a new name, a new story, and a new purpose.
Revised Version: Right off the bat, we learn that Jean Valjean is a criminal. Criminals cannot be trusted or allowed due process. Javert is right to see Valjean as a hardened criminal, the worst of the worst. That’s borne out as he tries to steal from a Bishop. And the Bishop has beautiful silver that would look good on a mantlepiece in someone’s office. But the Bishop lies to the police, abetting a criminal fugitive. Not good.
It’s now eight years later, and there is still misery and injustice in France – as we hear from the embittered workers. This sets up another key character in the show, Fantine, who is constantly sexually harassed by the factory foreman and mistreated by the other women. Unfortunately, Valjean (now the factory owner and mayor) misreads the situation – something he will later bitterly regret.
After those impressively efficient opening songs establishing the musical’s setting, plot and ideas, this ballad gives us some breathing space. Fantine confesses all to us: her memories of happier times, and the dream she had for life, all destroyed by the lover who abandoned her.
Without a social safety net, the now-unemployed Fantine slips easily into prostitution. The inevitability of that is illustrated by the song’s structure: we begin with the prostitutes and their clients, interspersed with Fantine, until she joins their ranks.
Her desperation undercuts their faux-cheeriness, and we end with a violent encounter – and the authorities, represented by the returning Javert as a policeman, taking the side of the wealthy client. Thankfully, Valjean is also back to intervene – yet in helping, he unintentionally reveals himself to Javert.
Revised Version: Those workers should be glad that they have jobs. Even if their work is drudgery, it’s far better than having their work outsourced to some other country. The entire issue of harassment is a questionable example of the “Wokeness” that has harmed our society, making men they feel like they are always at fault.
The idea that a safety net is necessary to prevent women from falling into prostitution is socialism or communism. People make choices and just because Epstein liked young women doesn’t make them victims. Valjean, now the mayor of the town, interferes with a normal law enforcement action. He should have known better given his criminal past.
Meet Cosette, the daughter who Fantine gave everything to protect. Here we see the sad truth that the child is neglected and ill-treated, and, in this vulnerable solo, she too “dreams a dream” of a better life with her mother. But she’s soon interrupted by the vicious Madame Thenardier, who scorns the “ten rotten francs” Fantine sent them – although we know how much she sacrificed to obtain it. Needless to say the audience is immediately on Cosette’s side.
And yet… sometimes the Devil has the best tunes. The Thenardiers might be filthy crooks, but this is such a fun, naughty, raucous number – after a string of sad ones – that we’re more than happy to spend a bit more time in their company. Here we learn how they scam all their customers, and get a glimpse into the unhappy married life of Madame Thenardier, but at least we get a party along the way.
Now we see that scamming in action, as the Thenardiers pretend to be heartbroken at the loss of their dear Cosette – and keep pushing up the price for Valjean to take her. It’s amusingly couched in a schmaltzy waltz tune, but we know the venal truth. Valjean gets the measure of them too. And this won't be the last time that he tangles with the Thenardiers.
Revised Version: After Fantine’s death, her daughter Cosette winds up living with some small business owners. They receive payment for her care. While they sometimes bend the rules as they serve their customers, it’s really not criminal. Besides, what does this middle-aged man want with this young girl? Very suspicious.
Vive la revolution! Enjolras’s rallying cry? “Red: the blood of angry men,/ Black: the dark of ages past./ Red: a world about to dawn,/ Black: the night that ends at last.” That’s interspersed with Marius’s love-at-first-sight bewilderment. In both cases, their world is changing forever. It’s a clever way to add a personal dimension to this political cause.
So effective is this revolutionary call to action (which also acts as the musical’s finale) that it’s been taken up by real-life protestors – including in Turkey, Egypt, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Sri Lanka and Ukraine. Thank the clear-cut, repeated lyrics, the insistent beat, and the unquestionable principles.
Revised Version: At this point in the story, a group of radical students, who have clearly been indoctrinated by their leftist professors at Woke Universities, decide to fight against the legitimate authorities. They chant anti-government slogans, which should be illegal, and encourage protests. The protestors are angry and must be put down.2
We begin Act II with the students constructing their infamous barricade. Marius is still distracted, however, as Eponine acts as go-between for him and Cosette. Meanwhile Javert prepares to infiltrate the rebels.
Javert attempts to subvert the rebels’ cause – but Gavroche recognises him, and now Javert finds himself a captive, at the mercy of others’ whims.
Gavroche crows that he might be small, and underestimated, but he learns a lot close to the ground. It ties into the musical’s exploration of power dynamics. Right now, Gavroche is smaller than Javert, but he’s on top.
The rebels win the first skirmish – but their enemy will be back. Meanwhile, Valjean finds himself in the extraordinary position of being asked to decide the fate of Javert. Again they’re at odds (philosophically and musically), as Valjean astonishes Javert by releasing him instead of killing him.
A moment of calm amidst the fighting. In this gentle, evocative song, the rebels raise their glasses to happier times, and wonder what it will mean if they lose their lives to this cause. Marius also wonders if he can go on without Cosette.
Here Valjean prays for Marius’s safety, for Cosette’s sake, offering up his own life instead. Again, that musical beauty is paired with relatively simple lyrics, letting the conviction of his words ring out.
It’s all gone wrong. The people have not rallied to the rebels’ cause, and they’re running out of ammunition. Gavroche, cocky to the end, climbs the barricade to gather ammo from his fallen comrades – while reprising his “Little People” – and is tragically shot.
Revised Version: This is the best part of the musical. The rabble-rousers get their comeuppance. Force wins out. The people knew better than to support the woke radicals. Marius, the radical that was in love with Cosette, is wounded and feared dead.
Yes, it’s “On My Own” again – although this time it’s just a riff as part of Valjean unburdening himself to Marius, confessing that he’s a convict on the run and that he must now leave Cosette for good. It brings our story full circle, as Valjean finally claims that old identity.
Marius and Cosette marry in grand musical fashion. But the jubilation soon shifts into a familiar tune: that cunning Thenardier waltz. Yes, the criminal duo are now passing themselves off as landed gentry. Marius isn’t fooled, but he does learn a crucial bit of information from them: Valjean was the man who saved his life.
Yet more musical reprises, as the Thenardiers crow about their newfound fortune to the tune of “Master of the House”, while Valjean, watching the wedding party from the shadows, asks God to take him now – to the tune of “Bring Him Home”.
Valjean finally dies to the tune of “On My Own”, while giving Cosette his last confession, and the spirits of Fantine and Eponine come to claim him. Valjean’s shiver-inducing final words sum up the show’s empathetic mission statement: “To love another person/ Is to see the face of God”.
Les Mis ends on a note of defiance: the rebels might be beaten this time, but more will follow. It’s a triumphant climactic number – hard-earned but full-throated optimism. After numerous songs about relentless, unchanging toil – tomorrow just another day of the same hardship – the show ends with the promise of something better when “tomorrow comes”. Who will join in our crusade? Generations of Les Mis audiences, inspired to fight for a fairer world.
Revised Version: It’s tragic that Javert died by suicide. He was appreciated by many for his life-long commitment to law and order. Years later, Valjean is near death and confesses to everything that he has done, a nasty guy all along. It’s great to see how the Thenardiers have become major figures in society — it’s a testament to what you can do if you rely solely on merit to gain advantage. Valjean’s claim that we need to “love another person” is exactly the kind of idea that JD was arguing against. Somehow, the musical ends with the image of those who died. Losers! Far better to hear from those who restored society to its normal functioning.
As I said earlier, watching Les Miserables is a remarkable experience on so many levels. Even watching the movie and putting up with Russell Crowe as Javert is moving. The songs are great (even if repetitive ones that get stuck in your brain for days). The story of Jean Valjean, redeemed by grace and compelled to share it with others, is great theology. The limitations of law and vengeance in the life and death of Inspector Javert is a memorable contrast. The passion of the people to stand against their oppressors, even though they lose in this case and many others, reminds us of what is possible if we refuse to give in to cyncisim.
“When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drum, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.”
I removed some extra material from their descriptions
Spoilers, they eventually are
Trump has stained the Kennedy Center