A Curious Correspondence and a Dashing Stranger

When, after great anticipation, I finally watched Finding Neverland, I was treated to a preview for a movie I’d never heard of. Entitled Dear Frankie, it was a Scottish film about a deaf boy who corresponds continually with his sailor father – or so he thinks. The letters are actually written by his mother, who is trying to protect him from the fact that his father is in reality an enraged jerk from whom she continues to flee, and eventually she decides to cement the illusion by hiring someone to portray the boy’s father for a day. The premise intrigued me, and the fact that it was Scottish did not hurt one bit. As I’ve said on so many other occasions, I could listen to a Scot talk all day.

Anyway, I thought it sounded like an interesting movie, but I didn’t hear any more about it until I went to the video store last week and saw it among the new releases. We were out in search of chick flicks, and though this didn’t look like it fit the description precisely, it seemed a good prospect. We watched The Prince and Me the first night and Dear Frankie the last night of our rental, and we wound up two for two. We should rent movies more often.

The look of the film is lovely, particularly in scenes when Frankie (Jack McElhone) goes out to look out over the bay and we’re treated to grand views of surrounding moors. Within the city, there is grittiness; Frankie’s family is poor, and while they’re not exactly in the slums, they’re certainly on the lower end of the middle class spectrum. Frankie is an intelligent and affectionate child doted on by his mother Lizzie (Emily Mortimer) and, to a lesser extent, his grandmother (Mary Riggans), who knows and disapproves of Lizzie’s trickery. It’s a bit like going to extraordinary lengths to convince your child to believe in the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus, and the longer the ruse continues, the more painful ultimate revelation will be. But beyond Lizzie’s desire to protect her son is an ulterior motive: because he does not speak, receiving Frankie’s letters is the only way she can hear her son’s voice.

Lizzie finds a confidante in Marie (Sharon Small), a sprightly woman who convinces her to come work with her at a nearby restaurant. Frankie has trouble adjusting to his class but finds a kindred spirit in Catriona (Jayd Johnson), a friendly girl who happens to know sign language. Less congenial is Ricky (Sean Brown), who antagonizes Frankie and makes a bet with him that his dad will not stop to see him when his boat docks in town for a few days. When Lizzie learns of the bet – and the boat, whose name she had adopted for the fictional boat from which Frankie’s dad writes – she is distraught and embarks on an intimidating search for a man who will agree to be Frankie’s father for a day. Complicating matters is the fact that Frankie’s real father has fallen terminally ill and is desperately searching for the family that fled him in order to make amends before the end.

In the end, it’s Marie to the rescue, furnishing out of thin air a man with, as Marie requests, “no past, no present and no future.” And yet strangely possessing all the qualities she wishes existed in Frankie’s real father. Gerard Butler, known to me as the Phantom from the recent film version of Lloyd Weber’s masterpiece, is the stranger, a quietly intuitive man who seems to know just what Frankie needs. The man and boy bond so quickly that it’s easy to forget they are not actually related, and you wonder at the marvelous luck that allowed Lizzie to find such an incredibly gentle and generous man to give her boy the thrill of a lifetime.

The truth of Frankie’s past is the darkest part of the film, and Butler is truly heartbreaking as his character reacts to Lizzie’s admission that Frankie’s father beat him into deafness as an infant. But in the present day, there is pervasive warmth and tenderness, and that is what remains at the conclusion of the film in spite of the realizations that precede it. Americans may have to pay extra close attention in order to comprehend the accents, but the dialogue is worth the extra effort, and the tones are melodious as always. There are a few profanities thrown about, but these are rare, and there’s really very little in the film to render it inappropriate for younger audiences. Dear Frankie is a fine family film with just a touch of fairy dust thrown in to make it fly.

I May Not Like Opera, But I Sure Love Phantom!

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.