Samantha Barks

A fictionalised story from the life of Wolfgang Mozart, this lavishly produced period drama is enjoyable for its witty performances and sexy intrigue. It's never as sharp as the screenwriters clearly intended it to be, and its tone veers wildly in operatic fashion from cute comedy to lusty romance to very dark violence. But the actors are terrific, and the film catches a clever sense of both the history and the music.

It opens in 1786, as Prague's opera patron Baron Saloka (James Purefoy) begrudgingly agrees to provide the funds to bring Mozart (Aneurin Barnard) to town to conduct the final performance of The Marriage of Figaro. A rampant womaniser who doesn't want competition from the composer, Saloka currently has his eyes on virginal soprano Zuzanna (Morfydd Clark), who has just joined the cast. And he watches in a jealous rage as the married Mozart flirts shamelessly with her, egged on by his friend, the star diva Josefa (Samantha Barks). In response, Saloka arranges a marriage with Zuzanna's parents (Adrian Edmondson and Dervla Kerwin), who are so taken with the baron's wealth and social standing that they ignore the persistent rumours about his violent abuse of every woman he knows.

There's nothing remotely subtle about this film. Saloka's servants visibly quake in his presence, while every woman in town bats her eyelashes at the hot, charismatic Mozart. The dialogue shifts clunkily from witty banter to gloomy foreboding as the plot turns increasingly creepy and menacing. And Saloka's manipulative nastiness can't help but bring to mind Salieri in Milos Forman's 1984 masterpiece Amadeus. This film of course pales in comparison, although it's silly enough to keep us entertained. This is largely due to Barnard's fizzy, energetic performance, which is nicely balanced by the lively charms of both Barks and Clark, whose scenes with Barnard overflow with lusty glee. By contrast, Purefoy is a snarling villain who hates everyone and everything.

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Starting at full-emotion and never wavering for a moment, this huge movie adaptation of the long-running stage musical wears us out with its relentlessly epic approach. OK, so neither the musical nor Victor Hugo's source novel could be accused of being understated, but director Hooper (The King's Speech) never even tries to find a moment of quiet feeling here. The result is thrillingly moving, making the most of the soaring anthems that fill the show. But it's also pretty overwhelming.

The story starts in 1815 as convict Jean Valjean (Jackman) finishes 19 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. His parole officer Javert (Crowe) vows to keep an eye on him, but Valjean slips away and, after a redemptive encounter with a priest, eventually reinvents himself as an upstanding businessman. He tries to help fallen woman Fantine (Hathaway), rescuing her daughter Cosette (Allen, then Seyfried) from her greedy foster parents (Baron Cohen and Bonham Carter). Years later, Valjean and Cosette move to Paris, where a young revolutionary (Redmayne) falls for Cosette just as the 1832 student uprisings break out. And Javert is still determined to recapture Valjean.

Hooper maintains the play's operatic style, in which the dialog is sung-through in between the big numbers. And we're talking about massively emotional power ballads here, performed to wrenching effect. Hathaway's one-take rendition of I Dreamed a Dream is the kind of breathtaking scene that wins Oscars. Jackman's voice wavers and cracks beautifully as he holds the story together. Marks delivers a belting version of the soulful On My Own. Redmayne nearly steals the show with his soaring tenor voice and wonderful acting chops. Baron Cohen and Bonham Carter provide some raucously overwrought comical relief. And Crowe gets away with Javert's big musical moments because he has the acting power to back up his oddly thin voice.

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