After last night's horror, a good cleansing Les Mis is just the thing, right? Sorry, we're fresh out...how about a steaming pile of who the fuck let this amateur-hour shit on stage? We have plenty of that.
There's a scenery shortage, so Will Swenson chews vowels. Ramin Karimloo has two emotive settings: forget about the notes and forget about the rhythms. Well, make it three, since he can do both at the same time. And what IS that sound Nikki M. James makes at the end of "On My Own"?
Aside from the shoddy musical values, moment after moment plays like a bunch of high school kids directed themselves. If this production runs, it won't get sloppy and over-hammy, because there's nowhere for it to go. The piece isn't exactly noteworthy for its restraint and good taste; the last thing it needs is all of its excesses played to the hilt.
So, um, yeah, I don't recommend it.