This past spring, my house was filled with singing as my brother Nathan
prepared for his role in his high school’s production of Fiddler on the Roof. We’d been hearing Fiddler
since November, when the choice of show was announced, and had by now
accepted it as part of our daily soundtrack. But as the show was
wrapping up, Nathan brought home a new and less familiar set of songs,
this time from Phantom of the Opera, a production of which he had
watched on tape in his theater class. I was of course familiar with the
title song, and my piano teacher had introduced me to a couple others
years before, but aside from that the soundtrack was unknown to me.
It took a couple times through before I found my comfort level amidst
the pounding organ that made me jump each time I heard it and the voices
that were often just a bit too operatic for my taste, but by the time I
found out about the movie I was almost as eager to see it as my
brother. His anticipation heightened as the release date drew nearer;
meanwhile, a colleague at work raved about Emmy Rossum, the film’s young
star. When Christmas finally rolled around, I’d decided Phantom was the one movie of the holiday season that I absolutely could not miss.
Last night, one year to the day after viewing the desperately anticipated final installment of Lord of the Rings,
my wait came to an end. From the magnificent opening sequence in which
the decrepit Opera Populaire morphs into a glorious vision of its former
self, I dismissed the murmuring of critics, very few of whom seemed to
like the film. I instead allowed myself, like my brother and my friend
before me, to be swept away in the majesty of Sir Andrew Lloyd Weber’s
masterpiece.
The film centers around three main characters.
Rossum is radiant as Christine, the talented young chorus girl who
becomes a star when she is forced to pinch-hit for resident diva
Carlotta (Minnie Driver), who storms out hours before the big production
of Hannibal after one too many dangerous “accidents” courtesy of
the Phantom (Gerard Butler). Generally speaking I find male characters
far more interesting and rarely declare a female to be my favorite
character, but Christine’s virtue and innocence won me over completely. I
also found Rossum’s voice gentler and less prone to shrillness than
Sarah Brightman’s, causing me to like Christine all the more.
Butler is haunting as the Phantom. Though I was mildly disappointed to
hear little evidence of his Scottish upbringing in the film – I hate to
hear a good brogue go to waste – I was moved by his searing performance.
The Phantom is a tragic character whose misery is largely
self-inflicted. I left with the feeling that if only he could have kept
his temper in check and not hurt anyone, things would have turned out
much better for him. His intense insecurity over his deformity first
manifests itself when Christine removes his mask, only wishing to see
the face of her “angel of music” perhaps the most devastating moment in
the musical is when Christine informs him much later that she is
repulsed not by his face but his cruel deeds.
In spite of the
Phantom’s shortcomings, I was rooting for him the whole time and was
prepared from the beginning to dislike Raoul (Patrick Wilson),
Christine’s childhood sweetheart who returns at the most inopportune of
times ready to rekindle their romance. He’s not a bad fellow, but during
most of his screen time I found him incredibly aggravating. First he is
condescending, refusing to believe Christine’s tales of an unseen
tutor. As soon as he believes, he is determined to destroy this man of
whom he declares “genius has turned to madness.” I kept finding myself
thinking, Why can’t he leave them alone? What she has with the Phantom
seems far more deep and meaningful, if also more dangerous.
Minor characters also add considerably to the film. I love Meg (Jennifer
Ellison), the quiet, sweet-natured friend of Christine who duets with
her in Angel of Music. She appears very little in the film beyond
that point, which I was sorry to see because I found her character very
appealing. Her mother, Madame Giry (Miranda Richardson), comes across
as the most compassionate of matrons, particularly in a flashback that
explains the Phantom’s origins in the theatre. She also seems to have a
sly sense of humor bubbling beneath the surface. She was a pleasant
surprise for me, as she did not appear in the soundtrack. Driver
provides comic relief, making her diva as intolerable as possible, both
in vocal and interpersonal terms. Also valuable in that regard are
Firmin (Ciaran Hinds) and Andre (Simon Callow), the opera’s rather
incompetent new owners.
Visually the film is stunning, with
its deep, rich tones and splashes of vibrant color. The Phantom’s lair
is particularly impressive. But the music is the real star of the show,
and each musical number thrills and entrances. Notes was my
favorite song lyrically even though it made no appearance on the movie
soundtrack. The throbbing grandiosity of the organ in the title song is
even more affecting when coupled with the images on the screen, as is
the dramatic moment when Christine goes from timid audition to star
performance in Think of Me. Many of the songs made a great deal
more sense to me when I could view them in context. All of the vocals
sounded transcendent. I think it perhaps best that I had never seen the
show itself, as most of the people who did seem to have found the movie a
bit of a letdown. When I saw Return of the King, its glory sent
me into a month-long stupor, but when I emerged I was able to pick
dozens of little details that, on comparison with the book, I found
rather bothered me. As I have no such basis for comparison in this case,
I suspect Phantom will continue to leave me satisfied, at least until I see the play.
I am a big fan of Jesus Christ Superstar and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,
owning film versions of both as well as two different soundtracks for
each. Based on my experience with those Weber rock operas, I assumed
that I was getting the vast majority of Phantom through the
soundtrack. I knew there must be a few missing pieces – for instance, a
reunion between Christine and Raoul before his proposal. But I had no
idea just how much of the movie would be completely new to me. Though
some of it was simple dialogue, most was sung, or at least spoken in
rhyme. While the melodies were predominantly echoes of the main songs
that had graced the soundtrack, the intricacy of the lyrics was what
really floored me. The clever back-and-forth, replete with internal
rhyme, of Notes left me utterly in awe of lyricist Charles Hart,
and I wonder why it is that Weber is the only one in this musical
partnership who gets any attention. I deem that Hart is just as talented
as Tim Rice, but I’ve never even heard his name before. I’m not sure
how many “additional lyrics” Richard Stillgoe contributed, but I think
both of them ought to get a bigger nod than they do.
I couldn’t help but be reminded time and again of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast,
and for more reasons than just the French setting. Raoul is less
villainous than Gaston, the Phantom more beastly than the Beast, and
Christine more conflicted than Belle over which suitor to choose, but I
still wanted the Phantom to win out in the end. The transformation of
the opera house at the beginning brought to mind the castle at the end
of Beauty and the Beast, while Christine’s heart-wrenching Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again recalled Belle’s devotion to her father. Maybe Disney drew influence from Phantom
in crafting their version of the classic tale and chose the name Gaston
in homage to the novel’s author. Doubtful, but it’s fun to speculate,
anyway…
Phantom is, of course, much darker than that
award-winning musical, and I suppose a straightforward happy ending
would not only be inappropriate but impossible. I like to think that in
the end Christine became to the Phantom what Bilbo Baggins was to
Gollum; unable or unwilling to give him what he wanted more than
anything, she instead provided what he needed: a chance for redemption.
Her compassion for the twisted man who molded her into the woman she has
become is the heart of the film’s central conflict, achingly verbalized
with her entreaty: Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you you are not alone.
If you’ve never seen the play, get thee to the nearest theater and
embrace the opportunity. Even if you have seen it, take the chance to be
immersed once more in a wondrous creation. Its participants may not be
unfolding their magic right before your eyes, but the enchantment
remains.
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