L'homme qui rit (2012) Online

This was a remarkable and truly moving cinema experience,a heartfelt adaption of a Victor Hugo story,.Covering the full gamut of the emotional spectrum,pain,loss,abandonment,identity,loyalty,betrayal and love.Stunning performances by all the cast,in particular the two young leads who brought this reviewer to tears with their honest raw performance,lacking in histrionics, and completely devoid of cinema clichés.A truly worthy addition to the long tradition of cinema adaptations of Hugo novels. .This is the archetypal morality play with a sting in its tail,highly recommended. A noteworthy performance by Depardieu who for a change is not sleep-walking or phoning in his performance this time round ,and you sense his love of,and total involvement in this beguiling story full of magic realism touches by the director.5stars. This to me was the highlight of the French Film Festival and I look forward to other works by this director,his staging,the direction of the actors and the sensitive handling of this complex story was flawless.A thoroughly engaging cinema experience that transports you to another world yet anchors you in the harsh reality of the main protagonist and his struggle for identity and respect from his peers.Also the story touches on the search for love by all of us.It asks us the question what is truly ugly and what is beautiful both within and without.

It's always a pleasure to see foreign films that show countries adapting their own classic stories with all the drama and spectacle that you could get from a Hollywood adaptation, but with much more style and finesse. L'homme qui rit might not be as lovingly celebrated and widely known as some of Victor Hugo's other works but its influence on fantastical, expressionistic fiction is certainly credible. The stark image of the titular man with thick scars on his cheeks that extend his lips into a permanent devilish smile will be very familiar to all fans of popular culture as the inspiration for the Joker, the most cinematically inspiring villain of the DC Batman comics. The Man Who Laughs also undeniably ranks up there with The Elephant Man and The Phantom of the Opera as one of the most poignant depictions of a shy, displaced circus freak who attracts the morbid curiosity of many, the scorn of even more, and the love of a select few.

Although, there seem to be many more who love the quirky novelty of sweet young Gwynplaine (charming Canadian actor Marc-André Grondin), the star of a small travelling theatre who instantly wins over audiences with his unchanging clownish grin, than those who shun him as a monstrous disgrace. At least in this adaptation, our hero sharply polarises the population and highlights the class distinction between grubby, hearty paupers and pampered, grotesque aristocrats.

Gwynplaine has spent most of his life in humbly cheerful poverty with the kindly Ursus (who else but Gérard Depardieu, who predictably receives top billing) who found and fathered Gwynplaine and his other loving companion, the gentle Déa (a beautiful Christa Theret) when they both came to him as orphans left to freeze to death in the snow. He is introduced to the shallow, cutthroat world of aristocracy when the glamorously selfish Duchess Josiane (a deliciously cruel and heavily made-up Emmanuelle Seigner) pays a visit to the Parisian slums to see the famous Laughing Man. Of course he finds her cold and superficial, but also irresistibly opulent, and starts an unsavoury fraternisation with her that he believes is invisible to the sightless Déa, his beloved surrogate sister but also his adoring romantic soul mate, but she can instantly tell. His encounters with Josiane lead to the deliberately delayed revelation that he is the rightful heir to a high royal position of great power and fortune. He hopes to use his seat in parliament to the benefit of his poorer friends, but Déa and Ursus soon make him see what a sadistic snake pit the monarchy is, and coax him away from his sycophantic retainers and conniving royalist butler Barkilphedro (Serge Merlin, the glass man from Amelie) which he leaves with a poetic, theatrical, flourishing revolutionary speech that's no subtler than the sentimental moralising that comes from Déa and Ursus.

The films messages may not be terribly original in their conception or verbal delivery, but they are conveyed exceptionally through the sumptuous visual design from supervising art director Vincent Dizien, and the pleasingly heightened editing by Philippe Bourgueil and cinematography by Gérard Simon, who also worked with director Jean- Pierre Améris on last year's rousing crowd pleaser Romantics Anonymous. This film is also sure to be a delight, not least with its gorgeous fairy-tale palette in the travelling circus scenes and the dazzlingly colourful, ghostly, expressionistic world of the palace fattened, wrinkly monarchists who each want to get a piece of Gwynplaine's inheritance, but not of his eye-offending face – although they are ironically much more cartoonish and laughable in appearance than the laughing man himself.

The film's thematic simplicity is certainly never an issue, as its visual complexity more than makes up for it, and the characters are all perfectly cast and solidly built for driving this intensely moving and inspiring story. Merlin, Seigner and Theret are particularly good matches for their archetypal characters, with Seigner pleasingly demonstrating the value of casting an actress with a strong, commanding presence as a femme fatale instead of having a pretty, delicate naïf do an awkward reading of some very hefty lines. As much as some of us might be sick of seeing Depardieu turn up in every third or fourth French film we see, it's hard to imagine many more French actors capable of exuding such cynical but loving wisdom in such a well-grounded performance.

Our first sight of Grondin as our endearing young hero conjures little more than disappointment that he is not Conrad Veidt. The thin red lines drawn across his face initially pale in comparison to the bright, broad grin given to the character in Paul Leni's 1928 silent adaptation. However, the more restrained makeup job applied here is an effective break from the film's otherwise wildly non-naturalistic design, and Grondin, while much less shy and innocent, brings his own likable adolescent charm to the role that makes the character no less sympathetic.

On the other hand, Hardquanonne (Arben Bajraktaraj), the sinister architect of Gwynplaine's cruel disfigurement, is characterised entirely by the gloomy art direction, some generic villainous dialogue, and some recycled shots of him as a hooded figure brooding menacingly in the background as he did in Taken (2008) and the fifth and seventh Harry Potter films. His big final meeting with Gwynplaine as the young man he has become since he was abandoned at the docks as Hardquanonne was fleeing from prosecution is a mere rushed anti-climax done away with in the first half of the film, perhaps as Améris, in penning the adaptation, suddenly realised what a small role the character is given in the overall conflict.

The absurdly accelerated depiction of Hardquanonne's departure, and Gwynplaine's fateful encounter with Déa and Ursus in the snow, is one of the few real faults of this gloriously dramatic and stylised adaptation of a piece of literature that France should really be more proud to call their own.

Ursus (Gérard Depardieu) is a traveling herbalist who opens his door to two destitute kids. Déa (Christa Theret) is a blind girl who was found in the arms of her dead frozen mother. Gwynplaine (Marc-André Grondin) is a boy abandoned by doctor Hardquanone who cut up his face to resemble the Joker. As they grow up, Ursus realize that people are more fascinated with Gwynplaine's face than with his herbal knowledge. Eventually they become big stars that catch the attention of the duchess Josiane (Emmanuelle Seigner). Soon Gwynplaine's origin becomes even more shocking.

It's an interesting story of the french underclass very much similar to Victor Hugo's more famous work 'Les Misérables'. Then it takes a sharp turn. It causes the movie to stumble as it tries to get its feet back under it. There are too many injustice done to the three. The change in the characters are too abrupt. It becomes either piling on, or that the three are too stupid. This is a love story with too much interference. And the Romeo and Juliet ending really sinks it with its heavy handed melodrama.

I didn't know what to expect when I discovered this film. I was intrigued as to the story and after discovering that it's was based on a Victor Hugo novel, I was sure to cry! I did. This film is superbly acted and the actors are brilliant. The film itself is beautiful and if your anything like me you'll come to a sudden understanding that the stories were the plot all a long. Watch it and you'll see. Love it. The end is sad but beautiful and heartbreaking.

Barrandov Studios studio filmed version from newly prominent Améris, (Les émotifs anonymes ) ignores the Paggliacci element of the Victor Hugo story. We edge instead into Tim Burton territory. The red of the lamp reflected on the sail as the one warm patch in the grey frame, the sinister black and gold family mansion and the red and white of the Court are extraordinary feats of design.

Depardieu gets one of his bets outings in the traveling showman role, taking the disfigured boy and blind girl to the carnival, soon contrasting the sympathetic fairground and the stone hearted nobles.

Only a marginal connection to any reality but the film's mesmerising look dominates performances and story and makes this one of the more notable films of the moment.

I miss Conrad Veidt, Cesare Gravina and Josephine Cowl but his lot have created their own space.