Andrew Lloyd Webber's
Phantom of the Opera
(2004)
review by Sal Skellington

By way of a prologue…

My first passion was Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera. It was the first thing that prompted me to be religious. I would stay awake late into the night when I was nine years old, praying under the covers that, one day, God would let me go see it in the West End. It has been a passion of mine ever since.

Now. I would consider myself to be a fairly mild-mannered, gentle reviewer. Have you read an unkind word from my proverbial pen? No. I can watch Ed Wood movies with a fond chuckle. I can even watch I Know What You Did Last Summer without plotting hate mail to Sarah Michelle Gellar. But, given my history, I think I can be forgiven for NOT having a sense of humour when it comes to the utter bastardisation of my favourite musical. But I’m getting ahead of myself. As a matter of fact, the film is not an absolute disappointment. The visuals, for example, are breathtaking, the score (of course) is brilliant, and there are some excellent actors in the film, albeit not in leading roles. But this is, sadly, not the movie it could have been – that is, the movie adaptation of the West End/Broadway musical. It is a different animal altogether, and infinitely worse off for it.

We sat down in the cinema that night with great anticipation. Within fifteen minutes we were exchanging shocked looks and heckling under our breath. Within half an hour we were heckling out loud. It makes you wonder what went through the minds of the Hollywood types that made this movie. ‘Look, guys, we’ve got the movie rights to a critically and publicly acclaimed play which has made millions all over the world. What shall we do with it?’ ‘Let’s change it!’ Great idea, guys. The film is rife with totally inexplicable changes to plot and lyrics. Words that should be sung are spoken. An entire verse of the title song is missing. For crying out loud, they even think they can improve on the falling chandelier by moving it out of its proper place in the plot. Why? It certainly doesn’t make for a better movie. I can only assume that they think their audience is stupid. ‘Mystified, baffled surtêtes say’ is changed to ‘Mystified, all the papers say’. Yes, thank you for explaining that to us. As brainless, apelike movie consumers we wouldn’t have understood otherwise. Way to patronise and alienate your audience! Also, great chunks of good music and script are ripped out to make way for a super-sentimental subplot concerning the now-for-some-reason-older-than-Madame-Giry Raoul. Wonderful. That’s gripe number one.

Gripe number two...

The Phantom is supposed to fall in love with Christine Daée because of her beautiful and remarkable voice. So it might be advisable to cast a woman who has one. Now don’t get me wrong, the girl is by no means a bad singer, but her voice is as mundane and nondescript as Sarah Brightman’s was ethereal and striking. I for one cannot buy the Phantom falling hopelessly in love with that voice, over and above those of the other girls in the Paris Opéra. Still, at least it wasn’t the other way round. The Phantom’s voice is enough to turn a young soprano off for life. Struggling between a gasp and a shout even at (my subversive cinema buddy suggests) a more palatable key than the one used for the original score, this Opera Ghost is all too obviously not up to the role. Yes, it’s an insanely difficult part to sing, but there must be people out there who can do it. The blatant dubbing is annoying too. Moreover, neither one of these main characters is a standout actor. It is a shame when such a strong character as the Phantom or Christine is upstaged by a fairly minor one.

But upstaged they are, by the glorious, stage-stealing, unignorable presence of (to my surprise) Minnie Driver. When I first read the cast list, this name stood out like a sore thumb. I simply couldn’t picture Driver in the role of Carlotta. Now I can picture no one else. Driver is fabulously grating as the self-obsessed, pampered primadonna, and provides a great deal of comic relief as well as some brilliant serious acting. I would almost – nay, I would – say that the film is worth seeing simply for its visuals, the chance to hear the musical’s score in surround sound, and this one perfect, no holds barred performance. The look of the film is absolutely gorgeous, making good use of physical effects, computer graphics and a commendable make-up and costume department. It is taken for the most part from the original play, for which we may all be eternally grateful. In fact, there is only one visually disappointing moment, when the Phantom turns up at the masquerade in the wrong costume and then disappears in a flash of CGI. Oh well, you can’t have everything.

If you want to get a real idea of the power of The Phantom Of The Opera, buy the Original London Cast soundtrack, which features the people the parts were written for, Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman. If you want the full visual experience, sure, go see the film, but also save up those pennies to see the theatre production, which is infinitely more involving and powerful. The film’s an OK introduction to the play, but does not do it justice at all. Perhaps Andrew Lloyd Webber intended it to be that way, so people would carry on coming to see the show. We will, Andrew. But not before we’ve given you a good slap with our opera gloves for that disappointment of a movie.