Pit violinist Claudin hopelessly loves rising operatic soprano Christine Dubois (as do baritone Anatole and police inspector Raoul) and secretly aids her career. But Claudin loses both his touch and his job, murders a rascally music publisher in a fit of madness, and has his face etched with acid. Soon, mysterious crimes plague the Paris Opera House, blamed on a legendary "phantom" whom none can find in the mazes and catacombs. But both of Christine's lovers have plans to ferret him out. Written by
Rod Crawford <email@example.com>
Because the war in Europe made it so difficult to track down who had the rights to most operas (coupled with the studio's reluctance to pay the required royalties), all the operas performed in the film were either in the public domain (i.e., copyrights had expired and anyone could use them without paying royalties)) or were based on classical music that was in the public domain. The filmmakers were able to slip in a reference to the opera "Faust" (which featured heavily in the original novel) by having Christine appear in the Marguerite costume as she comes off stage at the end of the film. See more »
When Claudin (Claude Rains) is being tested by the maestro, his fingering of the violin's strings do not match the vibrato produced. See more »
[Claudin is talking to Christine as they descend into the catacombs beneath the Opera]
See? Didn't I tell you it was beautiful? You didn't know we had a lake all to ourselves, did you?
[Christine covers her face and sobs]
They've poisoned your mind against me. That's why you're afraid. Look at your lake, Christine. You'll love it here when you get used to the dark. And you'll love the dark, too. It's friendly and peaceful. It brings rest and relief from pain. It's right under the Opera. The music...
See more »
Gaston Leroux's penny-dreadful novel was hardly the stuff of great literature, but it did manage to tap into the public consciousness with its gas-light-Gothic tale of a beautiful singer menaced by a horrific yet seductive serial killer lurking in the forgotten basement labyrinths of the Paris Opera. Lon Chaney's silent classic kept the basic elements of the novel intact--and proved one of the great box office hits of its day, a fact that prompted Universal Studios to contemplate a remake throughout most of the 1930s.
Although several proposals were considered (including one intended to feature Deanna Durbin, who despised the idea and derailed the project with a flat refusal), it wasn't until 1943 that a remake reached the screen. And when it did, it was an eye-popping Technicolor extravaganza, all talking, all singing, and dancing. The Phantom had gone musical.
In many respects this version of PHANTOM anticipates the popular Andrew Lloyd Webber stage musical, for whereas the Chaney version presented the Phantom as a truly sinister entity, this adaptation presents the character as one more sinned against than sinning--an idea that would color almost every later adaptation, and Webber's most particularly so. But it also shifts the focus of the story away from the title character, who is here really more of a supporting character than anything else. The focus is on Paris Opera star Christine Dae, played by Susanna Foster. In this version Christine is not only adored by the Phantom; she is also romantically pursued by two suitors who put aside their differences to protect her.
Directed by Universal workhorse Arthur Lubin, this version is truly eye-popping as only a 1940s Technicolor spectacular could be: the color is intensely brilliant, and Lubin makes the most of it by focusing most of his camera-time on the stage of the Paris Opera itself and splashing one operatic performance after another throughout the film. But in terms of actual story interest, the film is only so-so. Susanna Foster had a great singing voice, but she did not have a memorable screen presence, and while the supporting cast (which includes Nelson Eddy, Edgar Barrier, Leo Carrillo, and Jane Farrar) is solid enough they lack excitement. And the pace of the film often seems a bit slow, sometimes to the point of clunkiness.
The saving grace of the film--in addition to the aforementioned photography, which won an Oscar--is Claude Rains. A great artist, Rains did not make the mistake of copying Chaney, and although the script robs the Phantom of his most fearsome aspects, Rains fills the role with subtle menace that is wonderful to behold, completely transcending the film's slow pace, the lackluster script, and "sanitized for your protection" tone so typical of Universal Studios in the 1940s. Unless you're a die-hard Phantom fan you're likely to be unimpressed.
Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer
12 of 17 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?