Hugh Jackman has a decent voice, though there are probably thousands of actors who could have sung the central role of Jean Valjean better than him. But aside from his unfortunate straining in the Alpine-high range of "Bring Him Home," Jackman's intense star quality and dedicated performance make him a plus for the movie.

For the most part, I'd argue that the less-than-perfect vocals in the movie are deliberate. (Even in the stage version, there is prominent "character" singing featured: think Thénardier and Madame Thénardier.) Even in smaller roles -- the priest who changes Javert's life, the prostitutes who reflect on their miserable lot -- Hooper cast actors with thin or craggy, character-driven singing voices when he could have had ones with glorious voices.

And there is some Broadway-quality singing in the movie, including Eddie Redmayne's Marius, Aaron Tveit's Enjolras and Samantha Barks' Éponine.

But then we have Russell Crowe as Javert.

How to describe the experience? The first word that comes to mind is puffy.

When he sings, it's as if his uniform is too tight. The sound that emerges is mostly on pitch, but it has a cloying and congested quality. I kept thinking of a big, red, stuffed-up nose.

Excruciating.

I tried to like Crowe. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. I tried to rationalize that the Javert character is uptight and repressed. Shouldn't it be fitting that the voice matches?

But all I can think is what an opportunity we've lost. In the name of attracting audiences with a big-name star, the movie-musical version of "Les Misérables" gives us a Javert who burdens the film instead of lifting it up.

Still, I'm willing to write off one terribly miscast role. This movie is so ambitious and beautiful I can't help but embrace it.

I can tell you one thing: I'd much rather be Anne Hathaway this weekend than Russell Crowe.