“The challenge of charting the story of escaped convict Jean Valjean through the historical background of the struggle for a Republic, culminating in the 1832 Revolt in Paris, should not be underestimated. Jean Valjean, who moves from outlaw destitution to wealth and respect three times in the course of the roller-coaster plot, is a figure so much bigger than life, in a tale of a nation's destiny so sweepingly epic, that its retelling on the screen has too often come across as a lumbering behemoth of melodrama and grandeur. The triumph of Raymond Bernard's powerful and moving version is the precise, detailed, almost miniaturized depiction of a rigidly stratified society; the drama and adventure of the plot are portrayed with bold mastery, but the poetry, the poignancy, the conviction we feel throughout Valjean's odyssey come from the care and weight Bernard lavishes on the intimate level of the characters' individual lives, their griefs and joys, their resentments and virtues, the clothes they wear, the things they eat, and the places they live and fight in. For the task of bringing a panorama of French society to vivid life, Bernard assembled a magnificent cast of the finest character actors of the period.” --Alicia Springer, Museum of Modern Art
When Les Misérables was released in the U.S. in 1936, the New York Times review noted:
“It is part of the simplicity of the Gallic producers that they do not require, as Hollywood always requires, that their leading man be handsome. Here Jean Valjean is represented by Harry Baur, an actor with gross features, beady eyes, shaggy brows, a shambling walk and alarming girth, with none of the implied asceticism of Mr. March, bestial in appearance rather than long-suffering. Mr. March had your sympathy from the moment you saw him; Mr. Baur's Valjean must overcome repugnance to win yours, and that he does, utterly; is the most objective way of appraising a magnificent performance.”