31 Days of Gothic Romance | The Phantom of the Opera

With Gaston Leroux's novel, we're back into full-blown gothic romance. The Palais Garnier opera house was only about 35 years old when The Phantom of the Opera was published, but Leroux had his Phantom, Erik, inhabit the mysterious catacombs beneath and decorate his chambers with relics from his past. The building was new, but Erik used its secret parts the way a gothic count uses his family castle. And for much the same purpose: attempting to dominate a young woman.

The way he does this is different depending on which version we're looking at. In the 1925 film version, for instance, Erik uses Christine's own dreams about becoming a successful opera singer against her. He becomes an analogy for the seductive, yet destructive nature of the Arts. In the novel, Christine is already getting tired of Erik's possessiveness when he kidnaps her and takes her into his home, but in the movie he woos her. He makes her choose between her career and her boyfriend, Raoul, and she chooses her career. It's not until she unmasks Erik and sees his repulsiveness that she really questions her decision. So there's this great metaphor for how demanding and potentially ugly our creative passions can be. We're often encouraged to follow our passions and dreams, but we're rarely warned that there's a price for that.

In Leroux's book, Christine doesn't really want to be a famous opera singer at all. She started that career to please her father. After her dad's death, Erik took over as her primary cheerleader. So instead of her dreams and passions, he represents cultural pressure to succeed in a particular way. All Christine really wants to do is marry her boyfriend and live a quiet life filled with love.

Whether Erik represents external pressure or internal drive, Raoul is an important part of Christine's escape. At the very least, he's the competing passion that motivates her to resist whatever Erik represents. Like in many gothic romances, he's the handsome hero who's trying to rescue the woman from her oppressor. And in the '25 movie, that's exactly what he does. She turns away from her obsessive dreams to embrace love and relationship. She's almost too late in that, but love overcomes.

The novel's different though in that it's not really Raoul who saves Christine. Following the lead of Beauty and the Beast, literary Christine overcomes Erik by being kind to him. She doesn't fall in love with him, but she's able to see through his hideousness and his anger to the hurt soul beneath. And when she reaches out and kisses him, she frees both herself and him from the curse of his hate. Love still wins, but this time it's Christine's ability to love the ugly, not just the allure of the handsome, that saves the day.

The Year in Movies: 1925

Since most of my 7 Days in May posts have been around the massive silent movie kick I'm on lately, I'm weeding out the extra stuff and am just going to concentrate on sharing the silents. I think that makes a better post than a miscellaneous hodge podge of stuff. And since I've been working my way through the silents chronologically, it makes sense to re-title this The Year in Movies. Here are the movies from 1925 that I've recently checked out (or rewatched).

Seven Chances (1925)



This Buster Keaton feature starts off as a romantic comedy in which Keaton's character needs to get married by a certain time in order to inherit seven million dollars. The jokes in that part are all about his proposing to various women at his country club and getting turned down, hilariously.

Then one of his buddies hits on the idea of putting out an ad that attracts probably about a hundred women. At that point, it becomes a chase movie as they run Keaton through the streets and across the countryside. And it's a brilliant, funny chase, too (way better than the one in Cops), especially when the rock slide starts.

There are some racist gags that I wish weren't in there, but generally it's one of Keaton's stronger movies.

Don Q: Son of Zorro (1925)



Put it on the list of sequels that are better than the original. Fairbanks' Mark of Zorro is amazing and fun, but Don Q goes to another level with a more intricate plot, a great group of characters, and even better actors to play them. I cared a lot about the people in this story, despairing and cheering right alongside them.

I'm glad I don't have to choose between Douglas Fairbanks and Buster Keaton for whose athleticism I admire more. I've said before that Fairbanks may not be as handsome as some of the swashbucklers who followed him, but he rules them all in terms of energy and sheer physical impressiveness. He's the definition of swashbuckler, always full of life and joy - even in the darkest moments - and never willing to walk or climb when a leap will get him there faster.

The Lost World (1925)



I really thought I'd seen this before, but didn't recall it as I was watching and think I would have. It's about half-faithful to the Arthur Conan Doyle story it's adapting with Wallace Beery (whom I know as King Richard from Douglas Fairbanks' Robin Hood) as a great Professor Challenger. He's physically imposing with a perpetual, angry brood on his face most of the time. The other actors are great as well, but the real stars are the makeup and special effects.

Bull Montana is legitimately frightening in his ape-man makeup by Cecil Holland, and legendary effects artist Willis O'Brien (who'd go on to supervise the visual effects for King Kong) worked on the charming stop-motion dinosaurs. The dinosaurs are so great that I'm glad the movie modified the end of the story by having a brontosaurus rampage through London (another foreshadow of King Kong).

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)



Seen this one a million times, but the sets and costumes are still spectacular and it's creepy in all the right places. Chaney is magnificent; equal parts evil and pathetic. Christine is flighty and pretty dumb, but her shenanigans just add to my enjoyment.

The Unholy Three (1925)



It may star Lon Chaney and be directed by Tod Browning, but The Unholy Three is no horror movie. It's a crime story, just with the twist that the trio of criminals in the title met in a sideshow act. Chaney plays Professor Echo, a ventriloquist who teams up with a little person and a strong man to pull elaborate burglaries, using a pet store as a front.

Complicating the situation is Echo's girlfriend, Rosie, an official member of the gang who's spending more time than Echo likes with Hector, the pet store clerk whom Echo's keeping around as a possible fall guy if things go wrong.

There's a lot that has to be overlooked to enjoy the movie. The way ventriloquism and courtrooms work, for instance. But there's a great, emotional core that keeps it interesting and makes it worthwhile. When allegiances shift - and boy do they - it always feels natural and because of who the characters are. Now I'm curious to see the 1930 remake that brought back Chaney and the three-foot Harry Earles with sound.

Go West (1925)



A very sweet story about the relationship between a friendless man and a brown-eyed cow. I love Buster Keaton's usual romantic shenanigans, but Go West is a refreshing change of pace. Though there is a woman, of course, and that story is sweetly told, too.

Wolf Blood (1925)



Wolf Blood (Wolfblood?) has even less to do with werewolves than the infamous She-Wolf of London, because that one at least starts its misdirection early on. Wolfblood spends most of its time creating drama between rival lumber operations and setting up romance between its lead characters. The lycanthrope element is tossed in towards the end as a romantic foil more than anything else.

But at least it has a pretty great character in Edith Ford, a flapper who also owns one of the lumber companies. In fact, if the movie had just been about her trying to decide between her surgeon fiancé and the handsome foreman of her company, I would have liked the movie better. Like She-Wolf, my biggest problem is its trying to squeeze in a supernatural plot and being half-hearted about it.

Tumbleweeds (1925)



A cool silent film covering the same events as the finale of Far and Away, which I have fond memories of and need to watch again.

Tumbleweeds makes a nice companion piece to The Covered Wagon, which also has people in covered wagons looking for a place to settle down. But in Covered Wagon they're opening up the frontier in the 1840s, while Tumbleweeds has them filling it in 50 years later.

I'd never seen a William S Hart movie before and I can see now why he was a big Western star. He's got a kind face, but a tough attitude. I doubt I'll track down his other movies, but I liked him in this.

Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1925)



Like with the two Ten Commandments movies, I've always wanted to see the original Ben-Hur. Now that I have, I'm pretty sure I like it better than the Charlton Heston version. It's been a long time since I've seen Heston's, but I'm not a huge fan of him anyway and Ramon Novarro is extremely handsome and appealing as the title character.

I can see why William Wyler's remaking it was a good idea with new technology (and am curious to see how Timur Bekmambetov will do it again this year), but Fred Niblo totally got it right the first time. It wraps up too neatly and conveniently for me, but it's got all the spectacle and it's well-acted.

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

Who's in it?: Lon Chaney (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

What's it about?: Show biz is seductive, but evil. Or am I reading it wrong?

How is it?: I feel like I need to spend some time on this one, but I'm not going to do all of that tonight. For one thing, there are two things I need to talk about here: 1) the movie itself, and 2) the print in the Mill Creek box set I've been working through.

I'll start with the film itself, because that (mostly) doesn't change from print to print. It's a spectacle with lavish sets and unforgettable make-up by Lon Chaney. I grew up looking at magazine stills of Chaney in his Phantom make-up, terrorizing the crap out of Mary Philbin. It was one of those movies that I longed to see, and it's no less memorable than those photos.

Chaney's Phantom is as horrible at heart as he is in appearance. He's a true spirit in that he haunts viewers long after the movie's done. He's a super effective villain. And the supporting cast is all really effective too. Those who are there for comedy relief are funny. Those intended to cast suspicion and build tension are appropriately creepy and mysterious. Norman Kerry plays the heroic Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, and he's a man to root for.

The only character who's ever given me a problem is Christine Daae (Mary Philbin). She's sort of engaged to Raoul, but we learn early that she's been carrying on a secret relationship with an unseen "Master" who's been training her and using nefarious means to advance her career. I think maybe that she's supposed to be torn in her allegiance, but she just comes across as fickle. Before we ever see her, Raoul's older brother is trying to warn him about rumors of Christine's disloyalty. Raoul dismisses the warning, but in her first actual scene, Christine's telling him that she can't be with him. Her heart belongs to her career.

If she feels that way, why is Raoul just now hearing about it? How has he not seen this coming? The most obvious answer is that she's been giving him reason to believe that they could actually end up together. If that's true, it makes her extremely fickle and I have a problem with that.

What works for me though is to back away and see the whole thing as a metaphor. She's struggling to balance romance and career and hasn't figured out how to do it. She sees the choice as an all or nothing proposition. And in her day, it probably was. If I'm right, that makes the Phantom a true Spirit of the Opera in the sense that he personifies it. And - by extension - any career in the arts. He/the Opera seduces Christine early on, but once she spends some time with him/it, she realizes how demanding and selfish he/it is. Spoiler: she ultimately rejects him/it for a life of romance with Raoul.

I don't know if that was the filmmaker's intention, much less the intention of Gaston Leroux, who wrote the original novel. I've read the novel, but it's been years and I don't recall if or how much Leroux made that point. It's a valid way of reading the movie though, and it makes Christine's indecision easier to swallow. I can't relate to her choosing an unseen "Master" over a human being who loves her (and to whom she's obviously attracted), but I can relate to her struggling to choose between two conflicting life paths. And as much as modern me rebels against the idea that she should have to choose, I can't really argue that art is ultimately selfish and demanding. Not that artists are necessarily selfish and demanding, but that Art itself is. We can unpack that more in the comments if you're interested, but regardless of whether you agree with my reading or with whatever point the movie's making, it's a thought-provoking film as well as a viscerally exciting one. It deserves its reputation.

The specific print that the Mill Creek set uses is better than the first VHS copy that I owned, but only barely. That VHS copy took "silent movie" literally and didn't even include music. I used to throw on some classical music when I watched it, but that had the effect of changing the mood in weird ways. Depending on the track I picked and how it synched with the film, exuberant dance sequences could become solemn affairs, while creepy moments were sometimes oddly playful. It was a fun experiment in the effect of music on film images, but it wasn't a satisfying way to watch the movie.

The Mill Creek version does the same thing. It's got a music soundtrack, but it's made up of random classical pieces without any thought about how they affect the story. That's especially tragic given that there are some awesome "gotcha" moments in the film that deserve some musical support. Or at least deserve not to have the music actively working against them.

That's what I want to talk more about another time. I've got a second VHS print that uses original music composed especially for the movie, and I've got a DVD coming that does the same thing, but with a different score. It should be interesting to compare those two with the Mill Creek version. And while I'm at it, I should pull Dracula into that conversation. My DVD copy of the Lugosi movie has two different soundtrack options (three, if the Spanish version is different; I don't remember).

The Mill Creek print does include the hand-colored section during the bal masqué, so it has that going for it. Which is nice. I'll talk more about that when I write about the soundtracks.

Rating: Classic

The 31 Monsters of Halloween: The Phantom of the Opera

I'd post pictures of other Opera Ghosts, but none of them deserve to stand next to this guy.

Happy Phantom of the Opera Day!

Today's the birthday of Phantom of the Opera author Gaston Leroux, born in 1868.

If all you know about the Opera Ghost is the cheesy musical... well, you're probably not reading this blog I guess. But seriously, if you've never read Leroux's novel, do yourself a favor and pick it up. It's even better than the Lon Chaney movie. And I love the Lon Chaney movie.