Monday, December 28, 2015

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #52 The Phantom of the Opera

I'm not sure why I like Phantom of the Opera so much more than Nosferatu. Somehow, the former comes across as more of a vintage classic to me, while the latter comes across as pure cheese from a time before people knew how to use a camera correctly. I think a big part of it may be the comparison to other versions of the story. There have been far more nuanced and complex versions of Dracula produced since the invention of sound. And while I've only seen two other version of Phantom, the musical and the Hammer version, both were underwhelming. (I believe Richard Roeper referred to Gerard Butler as the “fashionably-scarred stud of the Opera.”) Of course, I probably need to see Claude Rains’ take at some point, but I don't want to get bogged down in Phantom adaptations. (That’s the reason why we have Youtube’s Phantom Reviewer.)

Seeing a silent film is always like looking into another world. I realized while writing this review that if my late grandparents had wanted to, not one of them would have been able to go and see this movie when it first came out unchaperoned. There's only a handful of people currently alive with any connection to the world in which this movie was made, and the number grows smaller every year. In fact, Carla Laemmle, the final surviving actress from this film, passed way in 2014.

I'm not entirely sure to what extent I can judge this film based on the score. My understanding is that silent films were typically scored by a live theater orchestra, so there is no single ‘Correct’ score. And, as I understand it, this film actually has a number of different scores from various re-releases. So on that note, I can only say that score in the version that I watched was very poor, and seemed to have a great disconnect between the mood of the film and the mood of the music.

To quickly review the plot, a mysterious “Phantom” of the Opera (Lon Chaney Sr.) feels entitled to a specific theater box, and is secretly training an Opera singer named Christine (Mary Philbin). He uses hidden passages to get around the Opera House and speaks to her through the walls, and blackmails her into dumping her love interest Raoul (Norman Kerry). To add to the drama, he also threatens anyone he sees as interfering with her career, or her interest in him.

Chaney's performance as the Phantom is rightfully praised. The Phantom is someone you can fear, while also recognizing that his actions are out of pain rather than malice. A deformed being who, with another face, would have been happily accepted as a musical genius by society. I'm sure there's an argument to be made that he represents a ‘Nice Guy’ (TM) with an entitlement complex, but I'll leave feminist analysis to my friend GoingRampant, since that's her specialty.

The most famous scene of the film is the Phantom's unmasking. Chaney's makeup, which he famously did himself, does a great job of creating an unsettling appearance in this scene. However, the scene has become so iconic that it's really lost its kick. To me, there are two other notable scenes that are more frightening. The first is a scene near the beginning in which several people claim to have seen the Phantom, but cannot agree on his appearance. This scene heavily plays with fear of the unknown and the mystique around the Phantom. One person claims he has no nose, another person claims he has a huge nose, but all agree he is terrifying to look at.

The other other is the ballroom scene. (One of two scenes shot in color, but the color print for the Faust scene has been lost.) I think this is the rare scene that may actually be creepier to a modern viewer than to someone who watched the film in 1925. A completely silent color film is something for which we have no frame of reference. In our understanding of the history of film, sound came before color. I think this scene seems so bizarre to us that pop culture refuses to acknowledge it. I don't think I've ever seen it referenced or spoofed, despite being so memorable, and part of such an iconic film.

One final scene is of particular note, because it does not appear to be in the public perception, but is very well known among film buffs, and I can certainly see why. When the Phantom is being chased by a mob at the end, right before his death, he appears to reach for something and holds it up as if he's about to throw a grenade. The crowd stops its advance, terrified. He then opens his hand to reveal... nothing... and he starts laughing hysterically as the mob falls upon him.

It's a bit difficult to say why that sequence is so powerful, but I can at least speculate. The Phantom, like Frankenstein's creature, knows he can never have acceptance. However, the grotesque appearance that drives people away from him also gives him power. He can inspire fear with the slightest gesture, even at the very end of his rope, simply because people are terrified of him. None of them could really believe in their hearts that the Phantom is helpless.

This is a really good movie. For a modern viewer, having to read the title cards might be a bit annoying, but no more so than reading subtitles on a foreign film. Check it out.

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