Aaron Lazar: Life Atop the Barricade

About the author:
In the crowded universe of characters that is Les Miserables, critics agree that Aaron Lazar is a standout as the flag-waving revolutionary student Enjolras. Lazar brings a passionate belief in his cause, coupled with a strong singing voice and great stage presence, to the current Broadway revival of the beloved musical. Those same qualities caused audiences to ask "Who is that guy?" when Lazar assumed the leading role of Fabrizio last season in Lincoln Center Theater's production of The Light in the Piazza. He's a Jersey boy, as it turns out from Cherry Hill, who abandoned pre-med studies at Duke to accept a full scholarship toward a master's degree at the Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music. After arriving in New York, the dynamic young actor didn't take long to climb from the ensemble of The Phantom of the Opera and an understudy gig in Oklahoma! to his 10-month run in Adam Guettel's award-winning Piazza. Now making himself at home on the barricade at the Broadhurst Theatre, Lazar agreed to analyze the appeal of his iconic Les Miz character for Broadway.com.

When I heard about the Broadway revival of Les Miserables, only one role interested me: Enjolras. Having just ended my run as Fabrizio in The Light in the Piazza, I knew I didn't want to play Marius, another romantic part. And when I read Victor Hugo's novel, I found Enjolras to be a complex, intense, passionate leader, with a dark side. Hugo describes the character as severe and warlike, "cold burning," born with revolution in his blood. He's also angelic, a priest of the republic. He's poetic, heroic and violent.

So many things to explore! I began my research at Lincoln Center's Performing Arts Library, where I watched tapes of the original Broadway cast and the closing night performance in 2003. I realized that the challenge, for me, would be to bring an actor's perspective—not just a singer's—to the role. In a play, dialogue can sound different every time you say it, but in a sung-through musical like Les Miz, the vocal demands of the score dictate a lot of your choices as an actor. I wanted to see if I could crack that challenge.

In rehearsals, I tried to create an Enjolras that amalgamates Hugo's character with the one Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg give us in their score. Since the score moves so quickly, there's obviously not enough time to develop the complexity of the character and his relationships as fully as in the novel. But Enjolras' intensity and passion never waiver.

Just take a section of Boublil's lyrics that Enjolras sings at the ABC cafe:

"Red, the blood of angry men.
Black, the dark of ages past.
Red, a world about to dawn.
Black, the night that ends at last."

Or in Paris, when he challenges the people: "How long before the judgement day? Before we cut the fat ones down to size? Before the barricades arise?!"

With these words, audiences can feel Enjolras' calling to change to the world, underscored by his dark obsession with realizing his destiny. This calling—bringing justice to the people—is the "objective" I go after in every performance with voracity and tunnel vision, leading anyone who will follow me into a violent battle for freedom.

Alas, Enjolras' glorious plans for a unified French revolution fail. The people never rally, and he and his friends are left to die, grossly outnumbered and without ammunition against thousands of men. So, arguably, Enjolras is a failed leader. And yet, his last words in the musical are, "Let others rise to take our place, until the earth is free!" Thus, despite the numerous setbacks and tragedies he and his friends endure during their 24 hours of bloody insurrection, he inspires himself and his men to the very end.

All of this makes for quite a physical workout eight times a week: Climbing and maneuvering up and down the barricade, brandishing rifles, waving an eight-foot flag while balancing on a two-foot-wide board 15 feet in the air, then lying still for more than a minute while hanging upside down by one leg as the turntable spins—not to mention the physicality of singing Enjolras' music, which is incredibly commanding, full of bravado and power, and at times very fast. Whew!

And I love every minute of it. All of the hard work and wear and tear on the body is well worth the fun and glory of performing one of Broadway's most heroic characters. Though the part is smaller than Jean Valjean or Javert, Enjolras is at the heart of what Les Miserables is all about.