Made in 1924 and starring Lon Chaney (The Man Of 1000 Faces) with Mary Philbin as Christine Daae.
The Paris Opera is giving a production of ‘Faust’ and, somewhere below – stalking the old torture chambers on which the Opera house was built, moves the masked Phantom. He shapes the music world to suit his own purpose – namely to put the woman he loves on the centre stage. Christine Daae has unwittingly become his object of desire. Through threats and acts of evil, he slowly shapes his plan into reality – causing horror and grief along the way. And yet, despite all his help, Christine rejects him when she sees his true form. She turns to her former lover, Raoul, for help. Driven by grief and feelings of betrayal, The Phantom strikes back – and the film hurtles to its inevitable conclusion.
The picture itself is well directed with good use of light and shadow. The opening scene is particularly effective – the shot framed by a Gothic arch as a stagehand wanders the old cellars with a lantern. The shadow of the Phantom makes a brief appearance and is gone. Another scene: a troupe of Ballerinas quivering with fear backstage. They stand in front of a giant face of the Devil. Suddenly, in the open mouth, a shadow of a door and then the Phantom appears. Another fine touch: the Phantom cloaked in his finery, which billows in the wind on top of the Opera House after the masked ball. The masked ball, by the way, is in colour. It may only be a minute or so – and the colours drab- but it is particularly effective. Despite the film’s age (and, sadly, age has withered the quality of this movie somewhat) the viewer can immediately discern the presence of master craftsmen on this work. Lavish sets, moody lighting, thoughtful and effective framing – it might still be the early days of cinema but skill is in abundance.
The music is a looping Orchestral score. Unfortunately, I don’t recognise it so don’t know the author. It’s a strange piece in the sense that, at some moments, it feels wholly inappropriate but in others it is perfect. We encounter moments of synchronicity where both music and film come together like two lovers for acts of almost perfect effect – and then they drift off in a post-coital waltz on their merry ways before colliding again a few minutes later. Very strange.
The acting is nothing short of superb. Chaney is immense in the role as The Phantom. Philbin puts in a fine performance as Christine, and the rest of the cast support these roles well.
But there’s something else: This silent film has the sort of acting you would expect when there is no dialogue with which to convey the message – exaggerated movements, big frowns, big smiles, huge gasps of horror. Add this effect to the musical score and you get a sort of cinematic alloy that creates a very different experience. The movements and music seem to meld into a very bizarre danse macabre. I was left with the impression that I could have been watching a ballet - and this only heightens the enjoyment I derived from this wonderful movie.
This film is simply worth watching despite its age. Lon Chaney was indeed the master he was acclaimed to be.
The Paris Opera is giving a production of ‘Faust’ and, somewhere below – stalking the old torture chambers on which the Opera house was built, moves the masked Phantom. He shapes the music world to suit his own purpose – namely to put the woman he loves on the centre stage. Christine Daae has unwittingly become his object of desire. Through threats and acts of evil, he slowly shapes his plan into reality – causing horror and grief along the way. And yet, despite all his help, Christine rejects him when she sees his true form. She turns to her former lover, Raoul, for help. Driven by grief and feelings of betrayal, The Phantom strikes back – and the film hurtles to its inevitable conclusion.
The picture itself is well directed with good use of light and shadow. The opening scene is particularly effective – the shot framed by a Gothic arch as a stagehand wanders the old cellars with a lantern. The shadow of the Phantom makes a brief appearance and is gone. Another scene: a troupe of Ballerinas quivering with fear backstage. They stand in front of a giant face of the Devil. Suddenly, in the open mouth, a shadow of a door and then the Phantom appears. Another fine touch: the Phantom cloaked in his finery, which billows in the wind on top of the Opera House after the masked ball. The masked ball, by the way, is in colour. It may only be a minute or so – and the colours drab- but it is particularly effective. Despite the film’s age (and, sadly, age has withered the quality of this movie somewhat) the viewer can immediately discern the presence of master craftsmen on this work. Lavish sets, moody lighting, thoughtful and effective framing – it might still be the early days of cinema but skill is in abundance.
The music is a looping Orchestral score. Unfortunately, I don’t recognise it so don’t know the author. It’s a strange piece in the sense that, at some moments, it feels wholly inappropriate but in others it is perfect. We encounter moments of synchronicity where both music and film come together like two lovers for acts of almost perfect effect – and then they drift off in a post-coital waltz on their merry ways before colliding again a few minutes later. Very strange.
The acting is nothing short of superb. Chaney is immense in the role as The Phantom. Philbin puts in a fine performance as Christine, and the rest of the cast support these roles well.
But there’s something else: This silent film has the sort of acting you would expect when there is no dialogue with which to convey the message – exaggerated movements, big frowns, big smiles, huge gasps of horror. Add this effect to the musical score and you get a sort of cinematic alloy that creates a very different experience. The movements and music seem to meld into a very bizarre danse macabre. I was left with the impression that I could have been watching a ballet - and this only heightens the enjoyment I derived from this wonderful movie.
This film is simply worth watching despite its age. Lon Chaney was indeed the master he was acclaimed to be.
