Thursday, October 8, 2020

Hammer Time: The Phantom of the Opera (1962)

Have you ever had a movie you've owned for many, many years, and you like it well enough, but regardless, you can count on one hand the number of times you've watched it? This film is a prime example for me. I've had this since early 2006, when I bought Universal's Hammer Horror DVD set, and yet, my re-watching it in order to do this review marks only the third time I've ever popped it in my player. There's no particular reason why it's the movie in that set I've watched the least; in fact, I actually think it's one of the better of the whole lot. As with so many of these movies, I knew from very early on that Hammer had made a Phantom of the Opera movie (if you guessed it was from that Monster Madness book, then you've clearly been around a long time), and I did see a tiny bit of it on AMC one night when I was in my early teens and first getting into Hammer, but that was it until I got the aforementioned DVD set. Like I said, I enjoyed this film when I first saw it, as well as the couple of times I re-watched it since, and I'll even go as far as to say I think it's one of the more underrated films from both Hammer and director Terence Fisher, as it didn't do well at all when it was original released and still tends to not get very favorable notices to this day. As with most of Hammer's output, it's not absolutely perfect, especially when it comes to the ending, which feels very contrived, and there's no great payoff to the story's major conflict, but I think the good here far outweighs the bad and I hope to make a compelling case for it.

London, the year 1900. It's opening night for a new opera by Lord Ambrose D'Arcy at the city's Opera House but, despite a large crowd, all is not well, as various mishaps and strange incidents have plagued the production throughout its rehearsal, and everyone, from the stagehands to the actors, is on edge. Shortly before she is to go on, the show's star, Maria, tells the producer, Harry Hunter, she was visited by a frightening, one-eyed figure dressed in black in her dressing room. Hunter manages to calm her down enough to get her to perform, but while she's onstage, the body of a hanged stagehand comes crashing through the scenery, horrifying everybody. Maria refuses to return after that and a replacement must be found. Hunter holds auditions the next day and finds a potential new star in Christine Charles, a chorus girl. D'Arcy takes an uncomfortable liking to her and invites her to have dinner with him that night. Though Christine is delighted, when she's alone in her dressing room after the rehearsal, a disembodied voice tells her he will teach her to sing like she's never sung before, and also warns that D'Arcy is a vile and evil man. She learns just how true said warning is when, at dinner, D'Arcy makes a move on her and tries to get her to come with him back to his apartment; fortunately, Hunter shows up and manages to save her, much to D'Arcy's frustration. After they have dinner, Christine tells Hunter about the voice on the way home and he decides to go back to the Opera House to investigate. There, in her dressing room, the voice, again, speaks to them, this time telling Hunter to stay out of this and leave Christine there alone. The theater's rat-catcher is then murdered and Christine is confronted by the same darkly-dressed, masked figure who appeared to Maria. He tries to get her to come with him but Christine screams and faints, forcing the figure to flee. The next day, Hunter learns that D'Arcy has decided to find another lead out of spite for Christine's refusal to put out, and is dismissed when he protests about it. While visiting Christine at her boardinghouse, Hunter finds an old sheet of music and other such compositions, including a song that's part of the very opera they're rehearsing. It's the work of a Prof. Petrie, who he learns got caught up in a fire at the printers that were publishing his music, accidentally had splashed nitric acid in his face, and jumped into the nearby river, where he was believed to have drowned. Little does Hunter know that Petrie survived and now lives underneath the Opera House, intending to teach Christine to sing his songs perfectly, no matter what.

This movie originally began as yet another adaptation of the original book by Gaston Leroux by Universal, who were spurred by the success of the 1957 Lon Chaney biopic, Man of a Thousand Faces, starring James Cagney, which had also renewed interest in this particular property. But, when nothing became of the project over at Universal, they decided to let Hammer have a crack at it, while they themselves would handle distribution in the U.S. Even at Hammer, it took a few years for the movie to get off the ground, but producer Anthony Hinds, who wrote the screenplay under his oft-used pseudonym of "John Elder," was initially aiming high, intending for it to star Cary Grant, of all people. Some sources claim Grant was intended to play Harry Hunter, while others say it was the Phantom himself, but whatever the case, that, obviously, didn't happen, and Herbert Lom was eventually cast instead.

According to Wheeler Winston Dixon in his book, The Films of Terence Fisher: Hammer Horror and Beyond, the director's own views on this film appeared to change considerably as the years went on. When interviewed in 1964, he seemed to agree with the popular sentiment that it wasn't a good movie, saying the Phantom wasn't a well fleshed-out character and also harping on the editing, but then, in the early 70's, he told an interviewer that he thought it was "very good" and didn't understand why it didn't do well when originally released. Dixon also points what he perceives to be a lack of interest and care for the film on Fisher's part in its very construction, with how he allowed someone else to stage the actual operatic sequences and used Dutch angles for a flashback portion, overt stylistic choices he didn't usually go for (much like the fancy editing that appears in The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll). In addition, he notes a story that Peter Medak, the film's assistant director (who went on to direct the 1980 film, The Changeling), told in 2016 about how, supposedly, during the filming of a scene, Fisher fell asleep and Medak had to shake him awake to tell him it was finished! Whatever his emotional investment in it, after The Phantom of the Opera failed at the box-office, Fisher was virtually side-lined by Hammer for the next couple of years. Some will say this was deliberate, as they laid the blame for the failure at his feet, or that he merely took up offers to do films for other studios, which he did do in the interim, but, regardless, Fisher wouldn't direct another film for Hammer until 1964.

An aspect of the film that is often singled out as being misguided is the characterization of Herbert Lom's Phantom, aka Prof. Petrie. Usually, the Phantom is portrayed as a sympathetic antagonist, one who's meant to be pitied as well as feared (save for the 1989 film with Robert Englund, where he's a full-on villain), but here, he's ultimately revealed to be a fanatical but benevolent man who's been horribly wronged. At first, he is something of a menacing presence in the London Opera House, as he's the source of a number of strange and frightening incidents that have plagued the rehearsal of the show, and Lord D'Arcy is told that patrons refuse to sit in one particular box in the theater because they've heard creepy voices emanating from it. The night of the opera's opening, the Phantom terrifies the lead singer when he appears to her in her dressing room, and during her entrance on the stage, the body of a hanged stagehand comes swinging through the scenery, effectively ending it. But, when Christine Charles is chosen to take over the lead the next day, the Phantom is taken by her voice and speaks to her through the walls of her dressing room, telling her that he will teach her to sing even better than she already can, adding that when she does sing, it will be only for him. He also warns Christine of what a vile man D'Arcy is, which she finds out when he comes on to her when they have dinner that night. When she and Harry Hunter return to the Opera House later to try to find the source of the voice, the Phantom warns Hunter not to interfere and demands he leave the girl there alone. Hunter refuses but, when she's alone at one point afterward, the Phantom tries to take her himself. She's too frightened at the sight of him and screams and faints, forcing him to flee the scene. The following night, he has his dwarf henchman break into her room at the boardinghouse, abduct her, and bring her back to his lair beneath the Opera House. There, he tells her that he will give her a totally new voice and that, once he's done, she will be the greatest opera star ever.




However, the Phantom's teaching methods are so obsessive and fanatical that he drives Christine to the point of exhaustion, angrily smacking her across the face and throwing water in it when she passes out at one point, angrily yelling, "You think you can become a great singer without suffering?! You think that I have not... suffered?" There are also moments where he gets caught up in a sort of delusion, crazily claiming, "It's my music!", and snarling about an unnamed "scoundrel." Exactly what he's referring to is revealed when Hunter manages to find his lair while searching for Christine. By this point, Hunter had already found evidence that proved to him the Phantom is actually Prof. Petrie, who, years before, got caught up in a fire at a printers, his face badly burned by nitric acid, and in a state of crazed agony, jumped into the nearby river, where he was believed to have drowned. But, when Hunter asks him to fill in the gaps of what happened, the Phantom reveals he went to D'Arcy, hoping he would help him publish his music, including his newly written opera. D'Arcy, being rotten to the core, not only offered Petrie a mere 50 pounds for ten years of work, but also had it published under his own name. When Petrie learned of this, he confronted D'Arcy, only to be rebuffed and physically assaulted, prompting him to break into the printers to destroy all of the copies. However, he started a fire in the process and grabbed a pale of what he thought was water to try to extinguish it, only for it to actually be nitric acid, which splashed in his face and on his hands, leading to his jumping into the river. He was washed through an underground drain and ended up in the cellars beneath the Opera House, where he was found and cared for by the dwarf. Now, years later, the Phantom reveals he's dying and wants to see Christine perform his opera perfectly before the time comes.



For many, this sympathetic portrayal of the Phantom comes off as watered down and robs him of his effectiveness in the story, as there's now no major threat hanging over the characters and Opera House, as there usually is. I'll admit that this Phantom is never menacing or scary, even in the early parts of the movie, when he's meant to be a terrifying presence that's scaring the crap out of those at the Opera House, as you don't ever see him do anything to unnerve the stagehands and stars, save for when he very briefly appears to Maria in her dressing room. Again, it's said he frightens people who sit in one box in the theater, making them claim it's haunted when they hear creepy voices in it, but you never actually see this, so it's meaningless. And it's ultimately revealed that the stagehand whose body swings through the scenery during the opening night's performance was murdered by the dwarf, who does all of the dirty work, meaning this Phantom won't sully his own hands and so, is not a real threat. But, regardless, Herbert Lom was such a good actor, with a great voice, and portrays the anger and pain his character feels from such a massive betrayal and screwing over so well that it's enough for me to like this Phantom regardless. I hate that he never wreaks a proper revenge on the person who destroyed his life, especially since he knows he's dying anyway and has nothing to lose, but I do find it genuinely moving when he sees his opera brought to life the way he always imagined it, with Christine singing the lead, to where you see a tear leak out of his one undamaged eye in a close-up. Too bad then that the ending, which involves the dwarf getting chased across the rafters above the stage, jumping onto a chandelier, which threatens to fall onto and kill Christine, prompting the Phantom to jump down and push her out of the way, leading to his death instead, is so tacked on and unsatisfactory. I think it would have been so much more affecting to see him simply slink away in the darkness when the show is finished, knowing that he will die as he said he would but will now do so with his lifelong dream fulfilled.


As for the Phantom's look, it's fine: his wardrobe is acceptable, though I wish he wore his cape more, and I actually like the mask quite a bit. I've read it was literally thrown together at the last minute and I think that gave it a kind of gritty, grimy look, as if this was something he just found lying around and has been wearing for many years. The makeup that Roy Ashton created for his scarred face, which you don't see until the very end of the movie, when he rips his mask off before jumping in to save Christine, however, isn't that great, as it mainly looks like his face is covered in blue-gray clay, with big patches of red here and there. There is a bit of exposed cheekbone in it and the left eye is completely destroyed, both of which make for nice, grisly touches, but his face is onscreen for barely two seconds, so you're unlikely to see these details during your first viewing. Seriously, no film version of this story has managed to create a look for the Phantom's face that is as memorable and impactful as the one Lon Chaney created himself back in the 20's.

One of the major problems with any adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera is that the interesting character of the Phantom himself is offset by two very bland main protagonists and that is the case here, at least partly. Christine Charles (Heather Sears) is definitely the weaker of the two here; in fact, she's among the absolute weakest leading ladies in the history of Hammer. She has no proactive role in the story whatsoever and is little more than the fixation of the men around her, be it the genuine compassion and affection of Harry Hunter, the lustful interests of Lord D'Arcy, or the Phantom's wish to make her the greatest opera star of all time. When she's not being leered at by D'Arcy or spending time with Hunter as he searches for information on Prof. Petrie, she's kidnapped by the dwarf, who brings her to the Phantom's lair and is put through exhausting singing lessons by him. Though initially frightened, she does come to sympathize with the Phantom after hearing of his plight and agrees to let him continue teaching her. When she gives a great performance at the opera, receiving a standing ovation from the audience, she immediately looks to the Phantom to see if it has pleased him, which it has. She's then completely devastated when he saves her life by sacrificing his own, but that doesn't change the fact that she's a pretty hollow character. And finally, while Sears looked cute enough, she could hardly be described as stunningly beautiful, she doesn't leave an impression in that regard, either.

Harry Hunter (Edward de Souza), while still not being a spectacular character in and of himself, has a little more to him than Christine, mainly because of the warmth and charm de Souza brings to the role. The producer of the opera, Hunter, unlike the cruel and domineering Lord D'Arcy, whom he makes it clear early on he has no love for, is an understanding and personable man, who tries to make the nervous cast and crew of the show feel at ease. Holding auditions after the show's disastrous opening and finding a suitable new lead in Christine, Hunter takes care to do whatever he can for her, saving her from having to go back to D'Arcy's apartment with him and, upon hearing her story of the Phantom's voice in her dressing room, goes back to the Opera House to see if he can find any clues. He doesn't shy away when the Phantom tells him to stay out of this affair, and he comes to Christine's aid when she screams in terror at the sight of him moments later. The next day, upon learning that D'Arcy has pettily begun the search for a new lead because Christine refused his advances, Hunter angrily confronts him about it and is let go. He goes to Christine's boardinghouse and decides to spend the day with her in order to cheer her up. While there, he finds old pieces of music belonging to a Prof. Petrie and learns he was the one who wrote the very opera they've been rehearsing rather than D'Arcy. He then asks around to try to learn of Petrie's ultimate fate, hearing about the fire and how he supposedly drowned in the river. Hunter also becomes romantically involved with Christine, and the next day, after the Opera House manager, Lattimer, tires of D'Arcy's attitude and dismisses him, he's reinstated as producer. When he prepares to restart rehearsal, he learns that Christine is missing and searches for her, specifically trying to find any hidden panels or doorways in the Opera House, as he remembered how the voice insisted he leave her alone in the dressing room. He also begins to wonder if Petrie actually drowned, given how the river was never dragged, and while looking around the riverfront, he hears the sound of Christine singing within the Phantom's lair and follows it. Finding the lair, and subduing the dwarf, who attacks him with a knife, Hunter identifies the Phantom as Petrie, and learns what happened to him. He and Christine decide to allow him to continue coaching her, and Hunter is present at the opera when she makes her successful debut, giving her some last minute encouragement before she goes on. However, despite being the romantic lead, it's the Phantom and not Hunter who saves Christine from the crashing chandelier during the climax.

In Dracula, Terence Fisher cast Michael Gough as the initially stern and standoffish but ultimately likable character of Arthur Holmwood; here, as Lord Ambrose D'Arcy, Gough plays a total, unrepentant slimeball. D'Arcy is a pompous, selfish, and downright despicable person, one who has earned the ire of the people who work with him to get "his" opera onstage, particularly Harry Hunter,. Early on, he admonishes Lattimer, the manager of the Opera House, for telling him the theater is sold out when there's an empty box, and scoffs when he's told that people refuse to sit in it because they hear ghostly voices within, threatening to speak with his directors the next day. After the horrific incidents that lead to the show being temporarily postponed, and despite the fact they're desperate to find a replacement for the lead, D'Arcy is positively scornful when he hears Hunter is holding auditions without consulting him, snarling, "I shall decide what is best and what is not best for my opera! How dare he?!" But, when he heads down to the theater to confront Hunter about it, he's quite taken by Christine Charles and approves of her selection in a very lecherous manner. He asks Lattimer to bring Christine a note in her dressing room, an invitation to have dinner with him that night, but when she arrives, he becomes increasingly drunk on champagne and makes advances on her, offering to help her with her singing and expecting her to be "grateful." He then offers to give her a lesson right away, at his apartment, and when she hesitates, he threatens, "Do you want to sing in my new opera or don't you?" Fortunately for her, just as they're about to leave, Hunter shows up and she persuades him to join them, prompting D'Arcy to give up and leave. The next day, he further proves what an utter turd he is when he dismisses Christine out of spite and holds new auditions, having an angry confrontation with Hunter that leads to his dismissal as well. Under D'Arcy's command, the production starts to come apart at the seams, him angrily firing the conductor, Rossi, after he dares differ with him, prompting the entire orchestra to walk out. By this point, Lattimer, who's been a milksop in dealing with D'Arcy, decides he's had enough and tells him to apologize and rehire Hunter. D'Arcy, of course, refuses to do such a thing, and decides to leave, calling his suggestion "treason," and is further enraged when Lattimer promptly rehires Hunter himself.


Just when it seems like D'Arcy couldn't be any more of an asshole, it's revealed he deliberately stole Prof. Petrie's music from him when he came to him for help in getting it published. First, he offered Petrie a mere 50 pounds for ten years of work, and brushed off his asking for a small advance so he could pay his landlady. Second, once Petrie left, D'Arcy crossed out his name on the opera and wrote his own in its place, which is how it was printed. When Petrie confronted him about it, D'Arcy reminded him that he sold the music to him and sneered, "My name on my music. Is that so surprising?", before smacking him across the face with his walking stick and driving off like a coward, leading Petrie to commit the act that would lead to his becoming the Phantom of the Opera. However, that leads into one of the film's biggest letdowns, in that D'Arcy never gets a satisfying comeuppance for all of the pain he's caused. When the opera reopens, he storms into the house that night and into his office, where he meets the Phantom. Severely agitated rather than frightened, he demands the Phantom remove his mask, ripping it off himself when he doesn't comply, and when he sees his horribly scarred face, he runs off in revulsion and terror, never to be seen again. He doesn't die, come back to try to sabotage the show and is killed by the Phantom, or even clearly realize who the Phantom is when he sees his face, the weight of his retribution coming down on him; he runs off into the night and that's it, which does not cut it at all.

As I said, for most of the movie, Lattimer (Thorley Walters) is completely spineless in his dealings with D'Arcy, allowing him to walk all over him because of his wealth and the fact the opera is, supposedly, his. He even acts totally subservient to him at many points, attempting to light his cigarette for him in one scene and also delivering his dinner invitation to Christine Charles personally. However, he finds he can stand it no longer when D'Arcy's cruel, dictatorial handling of the opera following Harry Hunter's dismissal threatens to ruin them. After a particularly disastrous rehearsal where D'Arcy fires the conductor, Lattimer speaks up and tells him to apologize to and rehire Hunter. When D'Arcy responds with an angry, "How dare you?!", Lattimer says, "I dare because, as manager of this opera house, I am responsible to my director for its welfare, and if I allow you to carry on in this manner, we shall all be made bankrupt!" And when D'Arcy decides to leave, Lattimer further threatens to personally ask Hunter to come back if he should leave. He doesn't have to, though, as Hunter returns at that moment, and once D'Arcy storms out, Lattimer needs to have a drink, as he can't believe what he just did. However, Hunter congratulates him on proving that he does have a spine and gladly agrees to return as the show's producer.

A total mystery of a character is the unnamed dwarf (Ian Wilson) who acts a crony for the Phantom. Though he saved Prof. Petrie after he was washed into the cellars beneath the Opera House, his identity is unknown, as he's unable to speak, and the Phantom himself, whom he's frightened and intimidated by, says he's often uncontrollable. Indeed, he's the one who commits the murders in the film, killing the stagehand whose body comes swinging through the scenery during the opera's first performance, stabbing the house's rat catcher right in the eye, and also tries to kill Harry Hunter when he discovers the Phantom's lair. Ironically, though, he's also the cause of the Phantom's very demise, as he watches Christine's performance up in the rafters, when he's discovered by a stagehand and is chased. In desperation, he jumps onto the chandelier hanging above the stage, threatening to cause it to fall down on Christine, and forcing the Phantom to jump down and push her out of the way, killing himself in the process.


Other notable characters include Mrs. Tucker (Renee Houston), the kindly landlady of the boardinghouse who is the one who first tells Hunter of Prof. Petrie, who was once a tenant of hers and enjoyed his music, and Rossi (Martin Miller), the conductor of the opera. The latter doesn't have much of a role in the story but he has one nice moment when, during the rehearsals, D'Arcy disrespectfully tells him he'll ask for his help when he needs it; he responds, "Then you had better ask for it now, because you most certainly need it." D'Arcy, predictably, is angered by this and fires him on the spot, but you have to admire Rossi for having the balls to stand up to D'Arcy, and his dismissal prompts the rest of the orchestra to walk out, angering the lord further. And when Harry Hunter and Christine go back to the Opera House one night to investigate the dressing room, they run into some cleaning women, particularly a sneering charwoman (Miriam Karlin) who doesn't believe Hunter when he says he's the producer and tries to chase him and Christine out, thinking they're simply looking for a dark place in which to make out.



In terms of familiar Hammer faces, you get a handful of them here, even if in just one, brief scene. Marne Maitland, a small, dark-skinned, Indian-born actor, who appeared in The Camp on Blood Island, The Stranglers of Bombay, and would go on to have a prominent role in The Reptile, appears briefly here as Xavier, the maitre d' of the restaurant where Christine dines with Lord D'Arcy. Patrick Troughton, best known to most as the second doctor on Doctor Who (the first thing I ever saw him in was The Omen), appears as a rather nasty-looking rat catcher who works at the Opera House. After scaring a bunch of cleaning ladies who mistake him for the Phantom, he approaches Christine and Hunter with a bag full of rats, enthusiastically telling them how he goes about catching them and goes to show them one, boasting about how they're as big as puppies, before Hunter stops him. He even offers to sell the rats to them, but Hunter gives him some money simply to go away. When he does, he's murdered by the dwarf, who stabs him in the eye, causing a commotion that allows the Phantom to approach Christine when she's separated from Hunter. Michael Ripper is barely recognizable as the cabby who brings Christine and Hunter from the restaurant to the Opera House, as he has a fake mustache and a sweaty, grimy look to his face. And speaking of cabbies, Miles Malleson is here again as the one who carts the two of them around when they spend a day together. As usual, he's very jolly and chatty, often interrupting their private moments and also talking about how his wife doesn't like to be left on her own at night, prompting them to allow him to take them home rather than going around the park for the billionth time, as they apparently have already.





Set-wise, Hammer was able to secure the New Wimbledon Theater for the main auditorium of the London Opera House, giving the movie a feeling of authentic scale they couldn't possibly have pulled off at Bray Studios, no matter how talented Bernard Robinson was. However, that didn't mean Robinson was without work on this film; far from it, in fact, as the Phantom's lair beneath the Opera House proved to be a very challenging set to create, because of the large stream of water rushing into it from the river, requiring him to build the set around a large water tank. Once again, though, Robinson proved what a master craftsman he was, as the lair is one of the film's most memorable sets, with the filthy-looking rushing stream of water in the center and a makeshift living area built around it, complete with a large table, a mattress in the corner next to it, and a big organ up at the top of a sloping rise in the stone (God knows how the Phantom and the dwarf managed to get that stuff down there without anyone seeing them). The waterlogged tunnels leading to and from the lair, into the nearby river, also look quite good, as do the Opera House's backstage areas and dressing rooms, which you come to learn are filled with secret doors and passages that allow the Phantom and the dwarf to enter and exit the place without being seen. Speaking of which, the "haunted" box in the auditorium is revealed to have a section of wall behind the seat that the Phantom is able to open in order to watch what's going on during the performances. The area right behind the set, which was shot at Bray, has a particularly convincing feeling of scale to it, and the rafters above the stage, where some bits of action take place, including the climax, really does feel like it's dangerously high up. As he often did, Robinson managed to create some very glamorous-looking sets, such as the very lovely main lobby of the Opera House and the fancy restaurant that features in one scene, as well as more ordinary, middle-class sets like Christine Charles' room at the boardinghouse, the printers, and the inside of the police station. And this film definitely wasn't confined to interiors, either, as they used the outside around Bray to create sections of town streets, the little bit you see of the park Christine and Hunter visit via cab, and the riverfront that plays a significant part in the story.




At this point, Jack Asher had been replaced by Arthur Grant as the studio's main cinematographer and, while Asher's vivid use of colors is sorely missed, Grant does manage to give the film a nice, if fairly restrained and somewhat muted, look, and often lights the sets really well, especially when atmosphere is required. The film's very opening, featuring a slow, tracking shot through the empty, dark auditorium and the first shots of the Phantom's lair are among the best in this regard, with how you faintly hear the sound of the Phantom playing his organ before he and his lair are revealed. Some of the scenes set backstage, such as in Christine's dressing room when she first hears the Phantom speaking to her, and when she and Harry Hunter return there to try to find the source of the voice, also have a bit of spookiness to them, with how a POV shot is shown tracking around the room as the Phantom's voice is heard and with the latter scene being lit only by a single lantern that is quickly extinguished, plunging Christine and Hunter into almost total darkness. Speaking of which, the introduction of the rat catcher is similarly atmospheric and wonderfully Gothic, as you first see his shadow on the wall before he emerges, carrying an oil lantern, as well as his bag of rats. There's no day-for-night shooting in the exterior scenes, which is always a plus, and the daytime scene on the town street set in a windy rainstorm has a nice, blue overtone in its lighting, which is nice to look at. Some may think the operatic sequences aren't staged well, since they were done by someone other than Terence Fisher, but they look alright to me (then again, we're talking about experts who may be seeing something I don't). But, I will say that the entire flashback depicting what happened to Prof. Petrie being done in Dutch angles, while not a deal-breaker, does start to come off as unnecessary and gimmicky after a while.



For me personally, the story here flows a lot better than it did in The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll, mainly because it doesn't become as distracted. There are some instances where it gets a little offtrack, such as the one scene focusing on Harry Hunter and Christine Charles' sudden and, frankly, uninteresting romance in the carriage at the park, and the continuing rehearsal of the opera and how badly it's going, but it doesn't take long to get back to the mystery of who Prof. Petrie was and what his connection is to this Phantom who is speaking to Christine in her dressing room. Again, the flashback that reveals how Petrie became the Phantom may be a bit distracting due to its length and the Dutch angles it employs but its significance to the plot makes it tolerable to me. Really, only the tail end of the third act, revolving around Christine finally making her debut in the opera, is where the movie truly becomes problematic in my opinion, with the aforementioned nonexistent resolution to the conflict between the Phantom and Lord D'Arcy and the contrived, needless death of the Phantom. But, that said, a big compliment I can give is that I didn't think the opera scenes went on for too long or were hard to sit through, as I'm not exactly an opera aficionado.


As has been the case so far with many of Hammer's films, The Phantom of the Opera is relatively light on violence, though it has more of an edge than the last couple of movies we've looked at. The grisliest moment is when Patrick Troughton's rat-catcher gets stabbed in the eye by the dwarf, and while you don't get a close-up of the knife going in, you do see the stab from behind the rat-catcher, a quick glimpse of the dwarf pulling the knife out, the blade covered in blood, and a distant shot of the man, his left eye bleeding, collapsing to the floor. During the opening, you get a detailed close-up of the murdered stagehand's hanging body at it comes swinging through the scenery, and during the flashback, when Prof. Petrie gets the acid splashed in his face, you can see a little bit of it beginning to burn away his flesh, though it's not dwelt upon, as his pained gasping and agonized movements get it across far more effectively. As minimal as these moments are in the complete, uncut versions of the film that are available on home video, they, as well as the shots of the Phantom's face at the end, were enough for the UK censors to demand they be trimmed down when it was originally released. This was also one of a handful of Hammer movies where new scenes were shot for the American television release (filmed at Universal Studios, with no input at all from Hammer), in this case involving detectives searching for the Phantom, meant to both pad out the running time and to replace some scenes thought to be too intense at the time.






The movie opens on a shot of the dark auditorium of the London Opera House, the camera panning down from the upper boxes and the seating below, to the boxes on the opposite side, before transitioning to the first shot of the Phantom's lair. While the dwarf watches while sitting on the long dining table, the Phantom plays a creepy tune on his pipe organ nearby, the film then cutting to a close-up of his hands on the keys and the camera panning up tight on his one, exposed eye, the image freezing while the credits over it (after each section of credits, it dissolves closer and closer towards his eye, until it's almost taking up the entire screen by the time Terence Fisher's directing credit appears). The story proper begins on opening night of the new opera by Lord D'Arcy, which serves as a dramatization of the tragedy of Joan of Arc (incidentally, the opera is called Saint Joan, but Joan of Arc wasn't officially recognized as a saint until 1920, whereas this film is set in 1900). D'Arcy is told by Lattimer that it's a full house and there have been no further "incidents," but, as everything is prepared backstage and in the orchestra, it becomes clear all is not entirely normal: a shaking hand is seen clasping towards the ropes in the rafters, while one of the drummers discovers his instrument's top has had holes slashed into it. In her dressing room, Maria, the show's lead, is getting ready, when she hears the door open behind her. At first, she thinks it's her assistant, Theresa, but as the light from a gas lantern is turned down by a gloved hand, Maria spins around with a start. Harry Hunter then arrives at the back entrance to find a poster has been vandalized, and he heads into the building, past a bunch of actors who have gathered around, talking in hushed whispers. Knowing that something's wrong, he heads to Maria's dressing room and is told she says she saw something. He knocks on the door, but Maria refuses to let him in until he confirms who he is. Once in the room, Maria tells Hunter about a dark, one-eyed figure she was faced with, and insists she's too shaken to go on. Hunter, saying he believes her, says they'll figure what it was after the show and talks her into lying down and resting for a few minutes before it's time, instructing Theresa to stay with her. In the hallway, he tells another man, Bill, that she saw something, revealing that he does actually believe her and wasn't being patronizing, when the conductor, Rossi, tells them that some of his music is inexplicably missing. Though he knows it all by heart, he's concerned about who could have taken the music, and heads through the band room, towards the auditorium.




Rossi enters the orchestra section, walking into the middle of the spotlight, and bows at the applause he receives. The lights around him come down and he motions the orchestra to begin the opening piece of music. Up in the one box, D'Arcy walks in to join Lattimer, overhearing some disparaging remarks from Hunter about his lack of musical talent, which the producer doesn't apologize for before heading out. Ever the pompous attention hog, D'Arcy walks to the edge of the box and receives applause from the audience. He sits down as the curtain rises, beginning Act 1 of the show, with a scene depicting soldiers decreeing an increase in taxes to the villagers. D'Arcy notices that the house isn't quite as full as Lattimer told him, noting an empty box across from them. Lattimer tells him that people refuse to sit in the box, claiming they hear voices in its walls. Incredulous at the idea of a haunted box, D'Arcy tells Lattimer he intends to speak to his directors about it in the morning. As the show continues, the dwarf watches from the rafters, when the curtain drops. Backstage, everyone rushes to prepare for the next scene, Hunter and Theresa ensuring that Maria is well enough to go on; at that moment, Rossi comes to a missing page in his music but continues his conducting, regardless. Maria walks through the backstage area, as fake lightning and thunder effects are created, and heads onto the main stage, while the dwarf continues watching up above. She begins singing, and up in the empty box, a small piece of the wall behind the seat opens, revealing the Phantom's eye as he watches. Suddenly, something hits a piece of scenery from the back side, startling Maria and everyone else. She watches as a hand rips a hole in the tapestry and tears a long line straight down the center, revealing itself to be that of a dead stagehand, hanging from a rope by his neck. The sight of him swinging in causes a panic in the audience and utterly horrifies Maria; the Phantom closes the panel in the box.




The next day, with the show postponed for the time being, and without consulting D'Arcy, Hunter holds auditions to find a replacement for Maria, who has refused to ever perform in England again. He finds potential in a young chorus girl, whose voice also catches the attention of the Phantom, as he watches from within the box. D'Arcy arrives, initially to admonish Hunter for the perceived insubordination, but when Hunter gets him to sit down and listen, he too is taken by the lady, whose name is revealed to be Christine Charles after the audition. Hunter asks for his approval and D'Arcy leers, "She's a very lovely girl." Sending her to her dressing room, Hunter notes aloud that her voice is lovely, albeit in need of some coaching, and decides to start the rehearsal in fifteen minutes. D'Arcy hands Lattimer a card and tells him to deliver it to Christine. As Lattimer heads to the dressing room, Hunter, who overheard this, watches D'Arcy leave the auditorium with a look of concern, having a feeling he knows what D'Arcy is up to. In her dressing room, Christine, who's receiving endless praise from the other women, is given the card, prompting the girls to become all the more excited at the notion that she's to dine with D'Arcy. Before they're called to the stage, they promise to help her get a new dress for the occasion. Once she's alone, she sits down in front of her mirror, when she hears a disembodied, male voice calling to her. When she hears it a second time, she asks the speaker who he is, but he tells her to be quiet and listen, telling her, "You sang well, but you will sing better. I shall teach you. When you sing, it will be only for me... Only for me. Do you understand?" Ignoring her again asking who he is, he then adds, "You are dining with Ambrose D'Arcy tonight. Be warned: he's a vile and vicious man." Standing up, she demands the speaker tell her who and where he is, when one of the girls comes through the door, having forgotten something. Once Christine is alone again, she again asks the person to tell him who she is, but gets no further response.




That night, Christine meets with D'Arcy at a fancy restaurant, and after many glasses of champagne, the thoroughly drunk lord instructs a waiter to tell Xavier, the maitre d', that no one is to disturb them. Once they're alone, D'Arcy's advances become less and less about training Christine to improve her singing voice (he uses the very words Hunter said about her needing lessons) and more about him wanting her, as he calls her a, "Delicious little thing," and suggests they begin her training right away, at his apartment. Though Christine is nervous and reluctant, D'Arcy's subtly threatening not to allow her to sing if she doesn't comply talks her into it and the two of them prepare to leave. Hunter comes in and prepares to sit down at a table, when Christine comes to him, tells him what's going on, and asks him to accompany them. He's more than happy to oblige, saying he would just love to watch D'Arcy teach her how to sing, and tells Xavier to forget the table, saying he thinks he's putting on weight. Extremely frustrated, D'Arcy decides to call the whole thing off, stating it's very late, and Hunter adds he'll take Christine home himself, after which D'Arcy storms out of the restaurant. Hunter and Christine are about to leave as well, when Christine admits that, the whole time she was with D'Arcy, she was too nervous to actually eat anything, and so, the two of them decide to have dinner for real this time. Afterward, as the two of them ride home in a cab, Hunter tells Christine of the strange happenings that have plagued the entire rehearsal of the opera, that they started out innocuous but culminated in the death of the stagehand the night before. Though the police ruled it a suicide, Hunter doesn't think so, adding that he believes someone doesn't want the opera to be performed and has been sabotaging it. Christine then tells him about the voice she heard in her dressing room that afternoon, and how she wasn't able to find where it was coming from. Hunter asks if she would be willing to go back there with him and when she agrees, he tells the cabby to take them to the Opera House.




Arriving at the Opera House, they have some trouble getting into the place at first, as they run into a group of cleaning ladies gathered at the back entrance, who assume that he's simply brought Christine there to have his way with her in a dark corner. Not believing he's the show's producer, one of the women comes at him with a brush mop, but Hunter manages to make them disperse by saying he dropped a diamond broach in the auditorium. The women, who were bragging about the discarded items they found while cleaning, quickly rush to look for the broach, giving Hunter and Christine access to the dressing room. There, Hunter lights the gas torch and has Christine sit down in the same spot she was when she heard the voice, as they try to pinpoint where exactly it came from. But then, the torch goes out by itself, Hunter unable to keep it from extinguishing, and the voice once more emits from the walls, intoning, "Mr. Hunter, I do not want you meddling with something that does not concern you. Do you understand?" Hunter refuses to be intimidated and demands the speaker identify himself. He simply responds, "Get away from here. Get away. You do not know what may happen to you... My threat is not an idle one. There are forces of evil at large in the opera tonight. Leave the girl, and go while you may." Hunter strikes a match, attempting to illuminate as much of the room as he can, when the speaker again demands he leave Christine there. He's forced to drop the match when the flame gets close to his fingers, when he suddenly hears the cleaning women screaming in terror. Rushing back outside the dressing room, the two of them watch the women rush out the exit, yelling about having seen a phantom. Christine sees a shadow fall over the wall beyond the door they came running through, but it turns out to merely be the theater's rat-catcher. After he proves to be too into his job, attempting to show them the two large ones he caught, Hunter gives him so money simply to get rid of him. He heartily thanks Hunter and bids them good night.



Walking into another room, the rat-catcher doesn't see the dwarf watching from a small stairwell behind an empty coat rack. Brandishing a knife, he jumps down to the floor, and rushes at the rat-catcher, stabbing him square in his left eye. His body collapses to the floor and the dwarf promptly removes it, as the rats in the man's discarded bag rush out and through the doorway. Seeing the rats coming for them, Hunter picks Christine up in his arms and places her up on a wicker basket, out of their reach, while he goes to see what happened. When she's alone, she hears the voice from before calling to her, and looks up to see the Phantom standing at the top of a flight of stairs. He tells her that she must come with him, but when he steps into the light, revealing his masked face, with the one eye visible, and walks down the steps towards her, she screams in terror. Hunter hears this and comes running, finding that she's fainted atop the basket and just misses the Phantom, who disappears through the doorway atop the stairs. Hunter rouses Christine awake and comforts her, later taking her back to her room at her boardinghouse. There, she tells Hunter about the Phantom, and as out there as her description is, he insists he believes her, mainly because the description fits that of the figure Maria said she saw the night before.





The next day, Hunter arrives at the Opera House to find that D'Arcy has dismissed Christine after her refusing his advances and is holding auditions for a new lead. When he angrily confronts him about this, he's dismissed as well and is shoved aside. Afterward, Hunter goes to see Christine, who's devastated over her dismissal, saying it isn't fair, to which Hunter tells her, "Fairness isn't one of his virtues, Christine." In an effort to cheer her up, Hunter invites Christine to have lunch with him, admitting that he got fired as well, stating, "So, we've both got nothing to do and all the time in the world to do it in." Christine goes to get ready, and Hunter waits for her in her room. Milling around, he notes the oddity of a sheet of music stuck into the edge of a piece of furniture. When Mrs. Tucker, the landlady, walks in, he asks her about it and she tells him that it belonged to Prof. Petrie, who was teaching singing at an academy while staying there. She shows him a stack of more music he left behind by and, looking through it, he becomes interested in one sheet of music in particular (a piece from the very opera they've been trying to put on). He takes it over to the piano in the room and starts to play it, Mrs. Tucker saying that she remembers that particular section. He then asks what became of Petrie and she tells him he died in a fire at the printer's that was to publish his music. Getting the name of the printer's, Hunter heads out with Christine once she's ready. At the printer's, Hunter speaks with a Mr. Weaver, the place's master printer, who tells him that, though he was burned in the fire, Petrie didn't die in it. Weaver says that Petrie likely broke in, accidentally started the fire somehow, and tried to put it out with what he thought was water, but was actually nitric acid, which splashed in his face. Weaver demonstrates how corrosive the acid is when he pours some of it on the wooden table and it leaves a large, sizzling, steaming mark in it. He adds that he ran out in horrible pain and was never seen again. Next, Hunter and Christine go to the police station, where they talk with the sergeant who was on duty the night of the fire. He confirms that Petrie ran out of the burning building, screaming in pain, and ran to and jumped into the river, pointing out exactly where he jumped on a map. After they head to the spot in question, the Hunter and Christine head off to have tea, as it's now too late for lunch.



That night, as they're all cozy in a cab, and as he prepares to take Christine home, Hunter tells her he's learned someone else wrote Lord D'Arcy's opera, but there's nothing he can do, since the person in question is dead. Later, once she's returned to her room at the boardinghouse, Christine removes her coat and opens the window curtain, only to jump back when she sees the dwarf outside the window, glaring at her. The film cuts to a brief shot of the Phantom's hands as he plays his organ, while up in the Opera House's backstage area, the dwarf prepares to carry Christine down to his lair by opening a secret passage behind a furnace. He then picks her up and takes her through the passage, down to the stream, which he wades through while carrying her over his shoulder. Reaching the other side, he places her on the floor, at the bottom of the slope leading up to the organ, before climbing up out of the water himself. Christine awakens and glances at the dwarf, who motions for her not to say anything, before looking up at the Phantom, as he finishes playing. Turning and seeing her, he rises from his stool and, motioning for the dwarf to leave, which he does immediately, he beckons Christine to him. As frightened as she is, Christine obeys and walks up the slope, taking the Phantom's outstretched hand and allowing him to guide her over to a seat next to the organ. The Phantom then tells her, "I am going to teach you to sing, Christine. I'm going to give you a new voice, a voice so wonderful that theaters all over the world will be filled with your admirers. You will be the greatest star the opera has ever known. Greater than the greatest! And when you sing, Christine, you will be singing only... for me." He emphasizes that last part by pointing at himself.





The next day, with the ongoing rehearsals proving disastrous under D'Arcy's tyranny, Lattimer strongly suggests he hire back Hunter, and when he refuses to do so and leaves in anger, Lattimer decides to ask Hunter back himself. That's when Hunter shows up on cue and, after commending Lattimer for standing up to D'Arcy, happily agrees to return. But, before rehearsals can resume, Hunter learns Christine is missing and there's no sign of her at the boardinghouse. Christine is then shown enduring her strenuous singing lesson from the Phantom, while upstairs, Hunter bangs around the backstage area, looking for some secret panel or door Christine might have been abducted through. By this point, Christine has been singing and pushing her voice so much that she's beginning to become exhausted. She tells the Phantom she can't go on, enraging and prompting him to slap her twice across the face, angrily admonishing her for thinking she can become a good singer without suffering. He then starts muttering to himself, randomly saying, "Scoundrel," "But, sir, that is ten years' work. Ten years of my life. Surely, 50 pounds is...", "I'm sorry, I... I accept. Thank you. Thank you," before seeing the way Christine is staring at him. Coming to his senses, he sits back down at the organ and demands, "Sing! Use that wonderful gift that God has given you!", before resuming his playing. Upstairs, Hunter wanders into the dressing room, still searching around. Christine's singing, meanwhile, manages to impress the Phantom, who tells her they're moving on to the melody of the piece. He plays, instructing her to begin quietly and then build until her voice fills the auditorium, but Christine is on the verge of collapsing. Up on the street, as it pours rain and thunders, Hunter asks the sergeant if they dragged the river for Petrie's body but he admits they didn't, saying it would have been useless because of how fast the current is. The sergeant then leaves to get on with his business, while Hunter inspects the riverfront closer, walking down some steps to the edge to get a closer look at a drain. While doing so, he faintly hears the sound of Christine singing. He then spies a rowboat nearby and prepares to climb down to it.





Christine passes out from exhaustion, falling onto the seat behind her. The Phantom tries to rouse her himself but when it doesn't work, he orders the dwarf to bring some water. He fills a mug with the water from the stream and brings it to the Phantom, who flings it in Christine's face. She awakens and the Phantom grabs her arm and pulls her over to the organ, growling, "Now, this time, sing properly. Use your voice, you understand? Use your voice, from here," emphasizing what he means at the end by placing his hand over his heart. While he begins playing again, Hunter, having managed to reach the boat, uses it to float over to the drain. He ties up the mooring rope above the drain and, taking off his suit jacket, swings down into the water in the drain's entrance and swims underneath the bars, making his way down the tunnel. Back in the lair, Christine has passed out again and the Phantom decides to allow her to sleep, having the dwarf take her away. Suddenly, he has another bout of paranoid fanaticism, grumbling, "Scoundrel," and ripping up some of the music, raving, "It's my music! It's my music!" Clasping his hands over his ears, he sits back down at the organ and starts playing again, as the dwarf puts Christine on top of a bed in a corner near the dining table. That task done, he listens to the Phantom's playing, when he hears the sound of Hunter splashing through the tunnels. Realizing there's an intruder, he grabs a makeshift breathing tube, jumps down into the water, and submerges beneath it. Hunter continues wading through the stream in the tunnels, following the sound of the Phantom's playing, but right as he reaches the tunnel that leads into the lair, the dwarf pops up out of the water behind him and attacks, attempting to stab him. Hunter grabs his knife-wielding arm, holding it back, and manages to overpower him, bending him over the concrete embankment and smacking his hand against it, forcing him to drop the knife. But, the dwarf manages to shove him off, climbs up onto the embankment, grabs the knife, kicks Hunter in the face when he lunges for him, and then jumps at him in the water, the two of them carried down the current as they struggle.




Christine awakens to the sound of the Phantom's music, and also hears the splashing and struggling down the tunnel. Hunter enters the lair, having won the fight with the dwarf, and calls to the Phantom, "Here, Prof. Petrie! You better take him!" As the Phantom swings around and sees what's happening, Hunter forces the dwarf out of the water before climbing out himself. He sees to Christine, asking if the Phantom harmed her, before approaching the Phantom himself, telling him that he's learned who he really is, as well as that the opera they've been trying to perform was composed by him. Figuring he took it to D'Arcy with help in publishing it, Hunter asks the Phantom what happened, leading into the Dutch-angled flashback. You see the moment when D'Arcy offered Petrie only 50 pounds for ten years' worth of work, including a newly-completed opera, and the professor was forced to accept, though he clearly wasn't happy about it. Once he left D'Arcy's home, the lord selfishly crossed out his name on the opera and wrote his own on it. Some time later, Petrie saw the opera being printed with D'Arcy's name on it and ran inside to verify it. He then went to confront D'Arcy, telling him what he saw, prompting D'Arcy to make no bones about the fact that he considered it his music and so, was putting his name to it. D'Arcy went to leave, and when Petrie tried to stop him, calling him a thief, D'Arcy actually smacked him across the face with his walking stick, before beating a hasty retreat. That night, Petrie broke into the printer's and proceeded to destroy the printed copies with D'Arcy's name on them. At first attempting to rip them up, he spied a nearby furnace and threw in everything he could grab, and also set about destroying the printing plates, using bottles of nitric acid in order to do so.




Problems arose when a burning piece of paper fell out of the furnace, igniting the scattered bits of paper on the floor and starting a quickly-spreading fire. Seeing this, Petrie tried to swipe it out with a rag, but when that didn't work, he grabbed what he thought was a pail of water and threw it at the flames. It turned out to be more nitric acid, causing the flames to erupt further and send some of the acid flying in his face. Recoiling and yelling in pain, Petrie, grabbing at his burning head and coughing and gasping, made his way through a gap in the flames and out onto the street. Smacking his head with his hands and even slamming it into a wooden pillar, he rushed past a responding police sergeant and made his way down to the riverfront, throwing himself over the edge and into the water. He was swept through the drain and down the tunnel leading to the area beneath the Opera House he would later make into his lair. As he drifted in, he was discovered by the dwarf, who immediately jumped into the water in order to help him. The film transitions back to the present, where the Phantom tells Hunter and Christine that he doesn't know who the dwarf is, as he can't speak, and says that he's often uncontrollable, but adds that he saved his life and has looked after him in the years since. Showing Hunter his hands, the Phantom admits that he's dying, but asks that he be allowed to finish teaching Christine to use her voice to the extent of its potential. He asks to be given a little time, be it a month or even just a week, proclaiming he will work a miracle, "She will sing for me, as she has never sung before, and I will hear my work performed." He literally begs Hunter for the opportunity and Christine, now feeling sympathy for him rather than fear, clearly gives her consent silently.




Come the opera's opening night, with the first act underway, D'Arcy storms into the Opera House and heads for his office. Flinging open the door, he's surprised to see the shadowy figure of the Phantom standing by his desk. When he walks into the light, D'Arcy, agitated and enraged, demands the Phantom identify himself. He merely says, "Good evening, Lord Ambrose," which angers D'Arcy further, as he demands he speak to him without his mask. He reaches and rips the mask off, only to recoil in horror when he sees the face beneath it. He drops the mask to the floor and flees the scene, while the Phantom retrieves his mask. At that moment, Christine, after some last minute preparations and encouragement from Hunter, makes her debut as Joan of Arc. When she walks out onto the stage, Hunter arranges for the light in the "haunted" box to be turned on, so she can see the Phantom there as he watches. He motions towards his heart one last time, and she begins singing. The film dissolves to show the opera further on in its story, where Christine enacts the scene where Joan of Arc is hailed as a hero, and then, it cuts to a scene where she refuses to recant in court and is sentenced to be burned at the stake. Once she's been condemned to die, the opera's last scene features Christine on the ground, truly singing her heart out, much to the admiration of Hunter and Lattimer in the one box. As he had done before, the dwarf watches the show from the rafters, while Christine gets to her feet and sings in a more hopeful and triumphant manner, the sound and sight of which moves the Phantom to tears, as his dream has finally been fulfilled. The show ends with Christine finishing her song and walking up a flight of stairs, the top of which features red lighting and the silhouette of flickering flames beyond a door, signifying Joan heading to her death. Up in the rafters, the dwarf is spotted and chased by a stagehand, while the final curtain comes down on the stage below.



The auditorium erupts into thunderous applause and the curtain is brought back up so Christine can enjoy it, receiving a bouquet as well. Up above, the dwarf climbs across a line in order to escape his pursuer, while Christine loks at the ecstatic Hunter and Lattimer, before glancing at the Phantom, who silently nods his approval. Then the dwarf, in desperation, jumps onto the rope holding the chandelier above the stage. Its rocking gets everyone's attention, including the Phantom's, and the rope starts to break from the weight and tension. Realizing it's about to fall, the dwarf grabs onto another rope, while Hunter rushes out of his box to get down to the stage. Knowing Christine is danger, the Phantom climbs onto his box's edge, rips off his mask, revealing his scarred face, and jumps down onto the stage. He rushes at Christine and shoves her away, but is unable to get out of the way himself. The chandelier crashes down on top of him, impaling him to the stage floor, horrifying the audience, the orchestra, and especially Christine and Hunter, the former of whom bursts into tears. The curtain is dropped, and as everyone rushes to the body, one of them looks up at the dwarf, as he continues hanging from the rope, and silently laments having caused the Phantom's death. The movie ends on a shot of the Phantom's discarded mask.

Sadly, for a film based around the opera, the music featured here is, for the most part, quite forgettable. The main score was composed by Edwin Astley, who would later become well-known for the music of a number of British action/adventure shows, most notably The Saint, and it's one of those scores that just doesn't leave any sort of impression. I can't even say it works well in the moment, even if it doesn't stick in your head, simply because, aside from its incorporation being very, very sparse, I literally can't recall it from memory and have to go back to the movie itself in order to comment on it. The most significant pieces are the main theme, which starts out as a strong, string bit before becoming an odd, tinkling theme accompanied by vocalizing female voices; a big, brassy bit when the dwarf kills the rat-catcher, followed by skittering piano keys and strings for when the rats escape his bag; an okay romantic theme for Christine and Harry Hunter's developing romance, which plays right up to when the dwarf abducts Christine from the boardinghouse; and a tragic final theme for the ending credits. The music for the actual Saint Joan opera, which Astley also composed, is more memorable than the score, particularly for when Christine finally takes the stage as Joan of Arc near the end of the movie. It's such sweeping music that it helps get across why the Phantom is moved to tears upon seeing his opera finally brought to life in the matter he always dreamed of. The same also goes for the music the Phantom plays on his organ, such as the low-key, murky piece that you first hear him playing during the opening, and, most notably, Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, which had been featured in horror films before but this was the first time it was connected to the story of the Phantom, which it's often associated with.

Hammer's The Phantom of the Opera may not be among the best of their Gothic horrors but it's also not the abject failure its dubious legacy and mixed contemporary reviews would have you believe. It has a lot to recommend it, such as a controversial but, in my opinion, effective tragic portrayal of the Phantom by Herbert Lom; a charming leading man in Edward de Souza; a wonderfully despicable performance by Michael Gough; some particularly impressive production design, namely that of the Phantom's lair, and great use of an actual theater for the Opera House auditorium; effective cinematography and lighting that does well in creating atmosphere; and some memorable pieces of music in the actual opera and played by the Phantom. However, the movie does falter from this portrayal of the Phantom not being a menacing villain, the main conflict not having a satisfactory resolution at all, an overuse of Dutch angles in one sequence, an actual film score that's not very memorable, and an ending that is aggravating in how contrived and last minute it feels. For these reasons, the film will never be on the level of The Curse of Frankenstein, Dracula, or The Curse of the Werewolf, but when it comes to Hammer, you could still do a lot worse, and I would recommend it for the curious and fans of this story.

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