Last night, 'cos Boxing Day, Eczemas, etc., we thought Les Misérables might be palatable (Russell Crowe in a musical, zeece vee must see etc.) Dear Lord it was pitiful. Crowe has a range of two notes and they're both horrible. We know the poor bugger has a vast ego but even that must have taken a knock. Hugh Jackman can certainly bellow, though, he had us wincing. So we gave up 20 minutes in and watched some miserable Welsh krimi that herself enjoyed. I couldn't bring myself to give a shit about any of the characters and went to sleep. Hinterland it was called, hinter being derived from the German for backside. Still, at least we got a look at Aber, whence came my daughter homeward 15 yrs ago with deep depression. My only other memory of the place dates from 1976 and involves a freezing hotel and a leathern steak. Bleh.