The Phantom of the Opera

Chaney is best known today for two roles: Quasimodo in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame," and Erik in "The Phantom of the Opera." The pair contrast the human response to physical deformity. While Quasimodo searches for kindness and acts to protect his home and loved ones, Erik shuns humanity and in his hatred and isolation becomes truly evil.

Christine Daae (Mary Philbin) is the understudy at the Paris Opera house, an ancient structure built over a network of torture chambers and interconnecting cellars. Rumors abound of a ghost or phantom who stalks the halls, and even rents his own box for the performances. With the help of this mysterious stranger, Daae becomes the lead diva.

Daae, apparently fine with her benefactor's use of extortion and mass murder to help her career, dumps her boyfriend Raoul (Norman Kerry) and follows the masked Phantom into the bowels of the opera house. She is, however, sensitive enough to collapse in a faint at the discovery that her benefactor is the legendary Phantom, and at his profession of love for her.

Awakening, she discovers herself in a lavish bedroom he has prepared for her, with her name engraved on a hand mirror. But upon snatching off the Phantom's mask, she realizes that he isn't Prince Charming after all, but hideously deformed, with a skull-like face.

The Phantom returns her to the opera, telling her that she must never see Raoul again. Upon reflection, however, Christine decides that looks and sanity are more important to her in a lover than she originally thought, and makes plans to meet Raoul at the annual masked ball. Raoul, neither particularly brave or smart, suggests that the two of them hightail it out of town. Christine, not one to run before her chance at the big time, suggests that they flee after the following evening's performance. Erik, of course, is listening in.

At that point Erik drops his nice-guy facade, hangs a stagehand who discovers his trap door, kidnaps Christine and flees into the cellars. He is hotly pursued by Raoul and a Secret Police inspector, who are followed by Raoul's brother, who is followed by angry mob led by the murdered stagehand's brother.

Erik, meanwhile, is trying to convince Christine of his capacity to reform ("No longer like a toad in these foul cellars will I secrete the venom of hatred -- for you shall bring me love!"). Alas, his plans to become a good husband are interrupted by the need to bump off a few of his pursuers, using elaborate boody traps and alarms throughout the dungeons.

The final minute of the movie is perhaps the best, with Erik's final gesture proving that his mental ability far outweighs that of anyone else in the film. He goes out in style, leaving the dim-witted Raoul and his amoral girlfriend to live happily ever after.

The two best things are Chaney's over-the-top performance as Erik and the spectacular sets. Chaney had a way of making any other actors in a film appear flat and lifeless, and this is no exception. The elaborate set of the opera house and the gothic appearance of the dungeons are still impressive, and the tinting and two-strip technicolor in the Bal Masque sequence look great.

"Phantom" is rousing horror/adventure, while "Hunchback" was a touching allegorical film. The latter is better and more serious, but "Phantom" is still some of the most fun it's possible to have before a movie screen.

The titled character is a badly disfigured man (Lon Chaney) who stays in the catacombs of the Paris Opera House. He falls in love with the theater's newest leading lady (Mary Philbin) and hatches a plan to take her down to his tomb. Masked, able to play lovely music and say such lovely things, she finds herself strangely attracted to Chaney. However, she makes the mistake of unmasking him and that is when he shows his true deviant colors. "The Phantom of the Opera" is one of the finest pictures of the late silent era and Chaney was arguably the greatest performer of the period (of course Buster Keaton and Charles Chaplin fans would not agree). His ability to literally transform himself into movie monsters is truly uncanny, especially considering the lack of technical resources in the 1920s. New Zealand director Rupert Julian (who took sole credit in spite of the fact that Chaney and fellow director Edward Sedgwick also did some of the work behind the camera) uses tone to stretch his audience to their outer-limits throughout. Spooky, dramatic, stressful and memorable, "The Phantom of the Opera" is one of those silent pictures that will suck you in and never let you go. 5 stars out of 5.

My goodness...close to fifty years ago I saw this film in the company of its leading lady, Mary Philbin. She was a friend of an unforgettable lady our family had met when we moved from New England to southern California. Our mutual friend was constantly prodding Miss Philbin, who had become quite reclusive after retiring from the screen, to get out and enjoy life. (They took a trip to Europe one summer, for instance.) One evening she persuaded Mary, who was extremely reluctant, by the way, to accompany us to the silent movie theater on Fairfax Ave., not far from Hollywood Blvd. and the site of Grauman's Chinese Theater and other first-run movie palaces, to see a revival of "The Phantom of the Opera." That old theater, not in the least luxurious and quite small, was a virtual shrine for lovers of silent films. Management had obtained a print of this film in acceptable condition, though I don't recall that the Technicolor sequence had been preserved in that print and, on that evening anyway, there was no musical accompaniment.

Mary dreaded the experience of seeing one of her old films amid a mid-Fifties audience, which she feared would find the film a subject of comical curiosity rather than a piece of genuinely enthralling entertainment. We joined the rest of the audience that night in enjoying the experience of seeing the film, however, and Mary was relieved that she had consented to accompany us (though she insisted that we shield her from any possible recognition, not too easy to do, since she had hardly changed in appearance in the quarter-century since that classic's production.) I, for one, remember being amazed at the care and expense that had obviously been lavished on its production.

Not very long after that evening, we went to a neighborhood theater in Pacific Palisades, Calif., to see James Cagney in the 1957 Universal-International biographical film about Lon Chaney, Sr., "Man of a Thousand Faces," again with Mary Philbin in our company. The unmasking scene from "The Phantom of the Opera" was rather perfunctorily recreated, with an actress playing Mary who did not resemble her. As we exited the theater, Mary and our family friend, who had quite a few early Hollywood associations (She had once been married to Ernst Lubitsch, the legendary director, when they first came to Hollywood from their native Germany.), regaled me with reminiscences about Irving Thalberg (played in the film by a young Robert Evans), whom they had both known and for whom they had quite a high regard.

Mary remained a family friend over the years until her death more than thirty years later. She led a very quiet life, for many years occupying a house she had owned since the days of her stardom (only a few blocks north on Fairfax Ave. from that silent movie revival house!) I remember her with great fondness for her modesty and extraordinary sweetness.

My first exposure to the story, "Phantom of the Opera", was the current 2005 film version, featuring beautiful costumes, perfect filming, and on DVD a superb surround sound track. I like it, I own it, I watch it again from time to time.

But this 1925 silent version with Lon Chaney as Eric, the Phantom, is actually a much better film to tell the story. Sure, it is silent, so we have to interpret facial expressions and body language, plus read occasional subtitles. But during the climax when Christine is down in the catacombs and comes face to face with Eric the first time, and sees his disfigured face. And when Raol is in the dark, wet, complex tunnels looking for her, these are much more dangerous looking scenes than in the modern movie.

For all practical purposes the story is the same. Eric is the disfigured but insane genius who tries to force Christine to love him. As has been widely reported, Chaney did his own makeup and succeeded in making his character look almost skull-like. In all a fine older movie. Saw it on TCM channel.

Analyzing an old silent movie using nowadays standards wouldn't be fair: the medium is too different, the acting performances require a different perspective, and when you watch it you find yourself enjoying the movie much like you would do with a painting. This is especially true for the classic The Phantom of the Opera, a movie that gets you lost in the images more than in the story itself.

Lon Chaney gives a good portrayal of the phantom, yet somewhat different from what was portrayed in later efforts with the same subject: his character comes off more like a cold blooded than a somewhat likeable character. What shines in this movie is the visual impact: the costumes are really nice, and the gothic scenery is perfect. The best scene of them all has to be the Red Death one, appropriately shot in a painting-like color, definitely one of the most beautiful images offered by old cinema.

Sure, the movie is hardly gonna provide any scares by now, and the story has been told many times. However, this is a primary example of how old cinema can still offer a very worthy experience.