Smoke and Mirrors: Digressions on Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera

Detailed drabbling on Erik (The Phantom) himself and the differences between the stage production and the movie; 24 June 2005

All references to the stage production are based on the Phoenix, Arizona production of the summer of 2005.

First off: the original stage production reigns over all, and my OCR with Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman just happens to feature the one true Erik in my mind and heart, kthx.

Right. Now, on a more scholarly, non-biased note, the stage production and the movie feel different, especially where the character of Erik is concerned. The stage production has a darker feel, almost like a circus or a sideshow, while the movie has a more grandiose, polished, gold-plated feel. A lot of this has to do with the amazing detail with which the Garnier Opera House was reproduced in the movie. I visited the Opera House in Paris a month ago, and the movie re-produced it almost perfectly. The stage production contains dimly lit sets; everything is just darker. The movie was at liberty to show the opera house in its full, well-lit glory, while the stage production sets were mostly limited to the stage itself, a couple of boxes (dark, I assume, to give the effect of space), backstage areas, the rooftop, and the lair.

The lair, which does not exist in Real Life, is a good point for comparison reference given that it was left to the imagination of the set designers. In the movie, Erik’s lair is gold-gilt and plush, with maroon-embroidered pillows, comfortable lighting, a huge swan bed, harlequin-styled dolls and frillery, and a grand, elaborate organ. The passage down to the lair is ornate and surprisingly well-lit for a secret passage, with blazing torches and Venetian waterways. In the stage production, Erik’s lair is dark and simple, probably dank, with only the blanket of candles in the water and a few candelabras to light the area. The passage down to the lair is dark and rickety, probably dank, and probably has rats.

As can be guessed by the above evidence, movie Erik and stage production Erik have different bearings. They are still the same beast, just dressed up differently and with different mannerisms. Movie Erik is more regal and dramatic, a man who carries himself like a charismatic noble or a prince, with the ego to back it up. His dress is tailored and plush, neat, and affluent. Stage production Erik comes off as even more of a lurking bastard, a man with all the ego and none of the noble regality, with a darker, wilder charisma. He wears a simple black waist-coat, a huge, black cloak, and, one of the most telling differences, a Fedora. (I love that hat. I was disappointed not to see it in the movie.) He just comes off as trickier and more underhanded; you would expect movie Erik to have some sort of a code of honor by the way he acts, but not stage Erik. Stage Erik is far more of an isolated, awkward, Gothik thing what lives and lurks in the underbelly of the building. Movie Erik might not be as melodramatic (but, by God he IS melodramatic, and he has less right to be given how pretty he is in comparison to stage Erik), but he is far more theatrical. For example, movie Erik uses a torch to lead Christine down to the lair, which may set a certain mood but is less practical than a lantern, which is what stage Erik uses in the same situation.

Erik’s actions in the graveyard scene are a good point of comparison on this subject. Stage production Erik carries a fire/spark-shooting cane; movie Erik carries a rapier. In the stage production, Erik stays atop the crypt and shoots fire out of his skull-staff (or he is making it look as though he is; if he has the skill to engineer a true flamethrower, I am impressed), taunting Raoul and making it clear that Raoul cannot touch him, even when he standing out in the open in broad daylight. In the movie, Erik jumps off the crypt and starts a swordfight with Raoul. Stage production Erik knows he holds the upper hand with sleight-of-hand and trickery, smoke and mirrors, so to speak, and remains faithful to that. Movie Erik gets his pansy little Gothik princess ass handed to him in the fight. Jumping off the crypt and starting a fight seemed like a terribly dumb and hot-headed thing to do, especially since Erik is damned smart enough to know that he has not had near the sparring practice to stand a chance against a noble who has probably been properly trained in swordplay since a very young age. The smartest people lose their heads and do very dumb things sometimes, but this seemed odd, even for an unplanned reaction. Unplanned reactions reveal a great deal about their performers. Even in this, movie Erik was acting far more like a prince or a noble, inclined to settle things by the sword, while stage Erik’s first inclination was to taunt with his nifty gadgets and be a general ass, avoiding actual contact like the tricky bastard he is.

Movie Erik’s engagement in the swordfight could easily be written off as elevated hot-headedness in his character, but stage Erik seems far more emotional and irrational than movie Erik when provoked. Movie Erik was enough of a melodramatic Gothik princess, but stage Erik steals his thunder in that department. In comparison, movie Erik is a well-composed, regal gentleman. Movie Erik is suave and smooth and knows how to be sensual and touch women. Stage Erik has his own breed of suaveness and smoothness, but not by any classical standards, and he as sure as hell has zero idea how to be sensual. Sure, he’s got the drive and the sexuality, but he has no dexterity showing it.

In this, stage Erik is more effectively portrayed as what he is: a cripplingly lonely, isolated creature who relies on illusions and trickery, acting from the shadows, a man with no social stature or regards, an emotional wreck who has no idea how to handle himself. Both seem equally obsessed with Christine, and both come off as having built her up to the same level of Goddess-worship, a glorified target of their accumulated desire for happiness and love. In both productions, she is obviously the fulcrum upon which they have rested their current lives.

Aside from some small lyrical changes and deleted scenes, the movie and the musical are almost identical. Songs in same order, etc, except for some inversion after "Music of the Night", a lot of inversion and omission in the second act, and the chandelier crash taking place after "All I Ask Of You" (Christine and Raoul singing on the roof), instead of after "Point of No Return" (Christine and Phantom singing in "Don Juan Triumphant") as it did in the movie. I think the stage's timing for the crash makes far more emotional sense, especially given the way that Erik's dialogue was presented after Christine and Raoul sing. In the movie, Erik was on his knees clutching the rose Christine dropped before running up a statue and screaming. In the stage production, Erik is hiding atop a statue that is fixed to the center of the stage's frame; the statue is lowered after Christine and Raoul leave, revealing him sprawled over the statue's shoulders. Since his hair and clothes are black, you do not notice him until he straightens. He has the same dialogue has he had in the movie, obviously, and he was crying, as he was in the movie, but in the stage production, when he hears Christine and Raoul singing in the opera house below, he clutches his ears and moans "No... no... NO... NO! NO!"

Stage Erik is far more reactive than movie Erik; stage Erik flies off the handle when something unsavory is said or done, as when Christine said “…I gave my mind blindly,” and Erik jumped out of his chair and bellowed “YOU TRY MY… patience”. As such, he is outwardly (only outwardly) less stable. Movie Erik has more composure, but that does not mean he is any less of a wreck inside. The movie's Phantom seems almost well-adjusted and accepting in comparison to the stage's Phantom. You think movie Erik cried and moaned and angsted melodramatically; he's nothing. In the lair scene where Christine rips Erik’s mask off, he goes ballistic as he did in the movie, but he curls on the ground in self pity before crawling to Christine, begging ("Fear can turn to love..." etc). This is after he had his back to the audience, sobbing for a few seconds. Even movie Erik wasn't crying at all during that scene; movie Erik cried only twice. Granted, compared to the wreck stage production Erik's face is, movie Erik barely has a skin abrasion; all of Erik's angsting seems much more appropiately proportionate in the musical. As soon as stage production Erik gets his mask back, he stands with his shoulders back and re-gains some backbone in his voice. In the "Point of No Return" scene, his backbone disappears as soon as Christine flips his hood back (he still has the mask on at this point. He was wearing a Grim Reaper-styled cloak for the scene), and he hugs himself sadly while singing the chorus lines of "All I Ask Of You." He may or may have not been crying, but I would not doubt that he was.

For all of that, even though it may make you want to whack him several times, it makes the play that much sadder. Erik is a pathetic, tortured guy, and the stage production lays that on thick. The finale scene, especially, is that much sadder than it was in the movie. Same dialogue, but the way it was pulled off was heartbreaking. When Christine kisses Erik, in the movie, he responds rather naturally and sensually after the initial shock, for all that he was crying, but the stage Erik is shocked and has his arms out and fingers splayed for a good two kisses, looking as though his knees are going to buckle and he is going to fall backwards. When he finally holds Christine, it is awkward. This guy has never been hugged in his life, and he has no idea how to go about it. After he says “Christine, I love you,” and she leaves without saying anything, he stands alone on stage for a moment before yelling “I love you!” after her, again. In the movie, Erik only said that once. Not in the stage production. In the stage production, the cage-wall halves the stage lengthwise, face to the audience, and Christine and Raoul are displayed rowing back to the surface behind the cage-wall while Erik listens to them sing and watches in agony, reaching out for Christine’s back desperately and screaming “I love you!” another two times. Those are not rapid-fire words, either; they are a desperate, loud, agonized moan, and the poor guy is sobbing hysterically the entire time.

I have to admit that the “Point of No Return” scene in the movie was more fun. It was more theatrical, flamboyant, aggressive, and blatantly sexual, and clearly displayed movie Erik’s boldness and ease with touching Christine, neither of which stage Erik has. That was my favorite scene in the movie. In the stage production, Erik and Christine circle one another, Erik reaching out awkwardly from under his Grim Reaper cloak and Christine putting as much space between them as she can without giving herself away on stage. The movie scene is obviously far more masturbatory on Erik’s part. He wrote the script that way, and he and Christine did it up right, boldly, shoulders thrown back and chins up, with plenty of caressing.

In this, it is easy to see that in the movie, Erik is that much bolder. God knows where he learned how to be sexual with some degree of smoothness. Well, he is able to see everything that goes on in the opera house; maybe he watched some things of interest and took some notes. I bet he practices a lot on his Christine-doll. I also bet that he jerks off quite a bit behind Christine’s mirror. Come on; one-way glass looking in on her dressing room? I wonder if he has to do his laundry in the lake.

This reminds me that, in the stage production, when the lair scene is first revealed during the finale, the Christine doll is in its underwear and sprawled over Erik’s chair. My first thought was “Huh… Lonely, are we?” Of course, it is snicker-worthy, but within the context of the play and what was occurring at that point in the story, it is sad. This is a profoundly lonely and desperate man, and he probably holds that doll imagining it has a heartbeat and breathes, lives, and desires him, holding him of its free will and listening to his heartbeat and breathing, wanting the same of him. Erik just wants to love and be loved in return. He just wants to be wanted. This extends far, far beyond romantic longing; those who may be romantically lonely still have family and friends, people willing to give them a hug when they are sad and give a rat’s ass if they live or die. Even the most emo kids who think nobody in the whole wide world loves them have had far, far more loving contact than Erik has ever had in his life. This makes Christine not only a romantic obsession, which can be devastating in itself, but an obsession hinging on his desire for any sort of love or companionship at all. I think that most people analyzing Christine forget this non-sexual, critical element of Erik’s obsession. It is crucial to understanding how tragic The Phantom of the Opera truly is beyond just being a love-triangle story.

And, yes, I know the doll was probably stripped because Erik wanted to stuff the real Christine inside the dress, but it made me think. Something tells me it’s not the first time that poor doll has been stripped and left sprawled on a chair.

This ended up being a far longer, digressing drabble than I thought it was going to be. The Phantom of the Opera has come to mean a lot to me since my Phandom revival after the release of the movie last December, far more than it did when I was younger. I admit that one of the reasons the movie hit me so hard in December was interpersonally situational, and, to anybody who knows me in Real Life, that is obvious; however, Phantom means a lot to me for far more than that. It is, plain and simple, goddamned cool, fun, engaging, and fast-paced, infused with Darqueness and Gothik imagery, superstitions and ghost stories, smoke and mirrors, eccentric, tortured geniuses, winding crypts and lairs through the shadows of the mundane world, elaborate harlequin costumes, and gorgeous, twisting sets. It is a story about loneliness and ostracism, about oppression and wrecked lives, about greatness being obscured behind a hideous cover, and the effects these occurrences have on the psyche. It is a piece of criminology; it follows a murderer's reasoning and justification for his crimes and explores what twisted a human being into a bitter, merciless man in the first place. It is a story about envy extending well beyond romantic envy, a deeply-rooted envy of the ‘light world’ and those who have those most basic things one desires: love, life, happiness, and an equal chance to shine for who one truly is beyond any circumstances of birth.

And, the music isn’t so bad either.