I'll have to give Les Mis a miss if the audience can't stop clapping in the middle It's not the first time. The film's director, Tom Hooper, revealed that at the first screening in New York, a fortnight ago, guests clapped "14 to 15 times." And not only clapped. "For a minute, I freaked out, wondering, what's that odd sound on the soundtrack," said Hooper. I looked around and realised it's the sound of people crying en masse. Right. There is still time to get a grip. Les Mis is not released here for another month but the hype is already getting out of hand. Even if one takes into account the fact that many of those genuflecting at the screenings so far will have been friends of the cast and crew, the mid-movie ovation is part of an irritating new trend. The peacocking of one's ability to appreciate culture deeply. Once, heartfelt applause at the curtain and perhaps a genteel shower of bouquets for a true diva sufficed. Now, standing ovations have become near-mandatory in the West End. They're no longer reserved for the truly extraordinary. People are out of their seats at the drop of the curtain. In cinemas, this noisy outpouring makes even less sense. In an art form which relies entirely on the audience's ability to lose itself in what's happening on screen, it may even detract from the work. Applauding every time someone hits the high notes, in a movie musical, is over-excitable to a fault. Much has been made of the fact that Hooper insisted on filming his stars singing "live," but Russell Crowe needed 40 takes to nail one of his numbers, so "live" is a fluid notion here. Goodness knows what Les Mis fans would do if faced with a real top C, from a live performer, singing in the same theatre as them. They'd probably never recover.