Phantom of the Opera (1943)

Of the eight Universal horror films released on video and DVD in 1999 as part of the "Classic Monster Collection," which would later be released together in a Blu-Ray set, this is the one I have the least connection to. Up until the 2010's, it was the only one I never owned on any format, and when I finally bought the DVD at Wal-Mart in October of either 2012 or 2013, that was the first time I'd ever even seen it. Beforehand, I'd only seen a few clips and images, and from what I'd always heard about how this Phantom de-emphasized the horror, I wasn't in much hurry to see it, anyway. Having now watched it three times in total, my feeling about is one of... "eh." I haven't seen every film and television version of The Phantom of the Opera but, of those I have seen, this is most likely my least favorite (I say "most likely" because I've only seen the 1989 Robert Englund movie once and that was a while ago). I can definitely say it's my least favorite of the three Phantoms that Universal has been involved with, the third being their 1962 co-production with Hammer. Nearly three decades after it was originally released, a British critic named Tony Rayns summed it up best as, "Too much opera, not enough phantom." It's one of those movies that's certainly visually magnificent, with the impressive sets, beautiful Technicolor (especially when viewed in 1080p, high-definition), and overall high production values, but its story and characters are lacking. Above all else, though, the movie never, ever attempts to be genuinely scary, spooky, or atmospheric. Instead, it eliminates the macabre aspects of the original story and focuses more on the opera sequences, the love triangle between the three romantic leads, and light comedy. And as great of an actor as Claude Rains was, he's never as menacing or disturbing as the Phantom as Lon Chaney was in the original silent version, or even as good as Herbert Lom would be in the Hammer film (and in that movie, the Phantom is portrayed as a tragic hero who never kills anyone).

In 19th century Paris, lovely young Christine DuBois, an understudy to Mme. Biancarolli, the Opera House's prima donna, is visited by her old beau, Inspector Raoul Dubert, during a performance of Martha. After two years, Raoul wishes she would give up the opera and be with him, but Christine aspires to sing the lead onstage. Raoul also becomes jealous of her relationship with the handsome young baritone, Anatole Garron, who's been helping to ensure she gets her shot at stardom. Meanwhile, after telling Christine she must choose between a normal life or her singing career, the conductor, Villeneuve, meets with violinist Erique Claudin, a twenty-year veteran of the opera. Having pinned him as a source of discord in the orchestra, Villeneuve learns that Claudin is slowly losing function in his left hand's fingers. Reluctantly, he dismisses him, believing he has enough money to support himself after so many years. Unbeknownst to him, Claudin is pitifully poor, living in a small apartment, with the rent six weeks overdue, as he's been using the money to anonymously fund singing lessons for Christine, with whom he is infatuated. But when her teacher warns that he will no longer do so now that Claudin has no money to pay for the lessons, he decides to have a concerto he's written published. But when he hears nothing after submitting it, he goes to the publisher and, when his concerto cannot be found, hears it being played in an office. Claudin, believing that it's been stolen, attacks and strangles the publisher, while his assistant throws etching acid into his face. Clutching his face in agonizing pain, Claudin escapes into the streets and, with the police searching for him, hides down in the Paris sewers. Soon, several items from the Opera House, such as a costume, some masks, and the manager's master key, turn up missing, and the stage manager, Vercheres, believes there's a ghost haunting the place. Claudin, now in the guise of the Phantom of the Opera, plots to ensure that his beloved Christine will become a great singer through any means necessary, including murdering those who stand in her way.

Henry Koster

Universal had planned on remaking The Phantom of the Opera in 1935, just a few years after the sound re-issue of the Lon Chaney film, but the studio's financial troubles and the ousting of the Laemmles put the remake on the back-burner. The new regime did attempt to produce it right after taking over, but their more economical approach to film production and the British embargo on horror films led to this attempt falling apart as well. It was revived again in 1941, at the height of the second wave of Universal Horror. Henry Koster, who'd made the musical comedies, Three Smart Girls, and One Hundred Men and a Girl, huge hits for the studio in the late 1930's, was slated to direct, and Deanna Durbin, the stars of those films and others directed by Koster, was meant to play Christine DuBois. But, either because she didn't care for Koster's rather gruesome vision for the film or because, when Nelson Eddy was cast as Anatole Garron, she didn't care to be compared with his frequent leading lady, Jeanette MacDonald, Durbin refused the role. Shortly afterward, producer George Waggner removed Koster from the film.

Waggner's replacement for Koster was Arthur Lubin who, like many of his Universal Horror contemporaries, was a former stage and silent film actor who'd turned to directing. His first feature film as director was in 1934, for Monogram Pictures, and he directed several for both them and then, Republic Pictures. He began working for Universal in 1936, directing, among other films, a series of quickies that starred a very young John Wayne. His first brush with the horror genre was when he directed 1940's Black Friday, which starred Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, and then, in 1941, Lubin hit it big when he directed Buck Privates, Abbot and Costello's first starring film. He went on to direct four more films with the duo: In the Navy, Hold That Ghost, Keep 'Em Flying, and Ride 'Em Cowboy. Phantom of the Opera would be both one of the biggest budgets Lubin ever had to work with and also one of his biggest hits, as was Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves the following year. Though he hit a slump in 1946 when Night in Paradise flopped, he bounced back in 1950 when he initiated the successful series of Francis the Talking Mule films for Universal. Though he eventually left Universal again, Lubin was also notably the first person in Hollywood to ever sign Clint Eastwood to a contract and later created the Mr. Ed television series, after he failed to make a show based on Francis. He kept working in film and television, directing episodes of Maverick, Bonanza, and The Addams Family, until the 1970's. He died in 1995, at the age of 96; morbidly, it was feared he may have been a victim of Efren Saldivar, a respiratory therapist who murdered a number of patients at a hospital in Glendale, California.

There's no denying that Claude Rains was a fabulous actor, and there is nothing wrong with his performance as Erique Claudin, aka the Phantom, as he plays him with the utmost sincerity and uses all of his talent. The problem is that I don't care for this portrayal of the Phantom or how he's utilized. Like Lon Chaney's Phantom, Claudin is a sympathetic antagonist, but while Erik was already the Phantom at the start of the 1925 film, with his tragic backstory only mentioned, we see Claudin start out as a normal man and become the Phantom through circumstance. A twenty-year veteran of the Paris Opera House's orchestra, the years have now caught up with him, as he's developed arthritis in his left hand. No longer able to play to the Opera House's standards, he's dismissed, but despite his many years of work, he has no money, as he's been using his salary to fund private singing lessons for Christine DuBois. With the rent of his lowly apartment six weeks overdue, and Christine's expensive teacher threatening to end her lessons, Claudin opts to publish a concerto, based on a lullaby local to his birthplace. But, through a misunderstanding, he believes the publisher has stolen the concerto and attacks him. The publisher's assistant throws etching acid in his face during the struggle and Claudin flees the scene, clutching his face in horrible pain. With the police then looking to arrest him for murder, he flees down into the Paris sewers and, desperate to stop the burning, dunks himself into the water. Shortly afterward, he steals a costume and some masks, as well as some food and the manager's master key, from the Opera House and, in the guise of the Phantom, acts as a morbid guardian angel for Christine, ensuring that she becomes a renowned singer, no matter what.

My biggest problem with this approach is that it takes away from the mystery of the Phantom's identity and his connection to the Opera House. Obviously, if you know the story, you, at least, have an idea of it, but it's more interesting to learn of the specifics of each version of the Phantom along with the characters, rather than have it all laid out for you, as it does here. For that matter, because of Claudin's murdering the publisher and the discovery of his interest in Christine when they

find a stolen bust of her in his room, the authorities and much of the main cast quickly deduce that he's the Phantom. And yet, they still try to play with the legend of a ghost haunting the Opera House, with the stage manager blaming the recent robberies on such a specter. This comes immediately after Claudin has disappeared down into the sewers and has only just begun to haunt the place, rather than it building up from rumors over time. The stage manager, Vercheres, has even come up with a very

inaccurate description of what the Phantom's face looks like, something that, again, should've been distorted by various eyewitness accounts and rumors. Another failing of the Rains' Phantom is that he's never scary. He may leave the management notes threatening violence if they don't do as he says, and isn't above flat-out murdering those who stand in his way (unlike Herbert Lom's Phantom in the Hammer film), but he never frightens people from the shadows, only eavesdrops from them, and only once speaks to

Christine from within the walls; even then, his voice is not menacing or eerie. The scene where he confronts Biancarolli, demanding that Christine play her part the following night, is not as tense as it should be, even when he kills her and her maid, and when he abducts Christine and takes her down to his lair, he doesn't have that air of a sympathetic but dangerously unhinged madman who's desperate for love, which Chaney's Phantom had in spades. And the unmasking scene? Abrupt, rushed, and anti-climactic, with none of the impact of the silent film.

If I'm being perfectly honest, Claudin doesn't come off as sympathetic as I think they intended him to. While it sucks that he's fired from the opera after being with it for twenty years, his infatuation with Christine (which is completely one-sided and given no substance or explanation whatsoever), to the point where he not only funds private voice lessons for her, using all of his money, but even steals a small statue of her sculpted by Anatole Garron, really makes him come off as a creeper. At least in

the Lon Chaney film, Erik's love for Christine comes from having been her mysterious, disembodied mentor for a long time, and in his desperate need for someone to look past his ugliness and love him for who he is. (In the original script, Claudin was actually supposed to be Christine's father, who'd long abandoned his family in pursuit of his music and was now trying to redeem himself by making his daughter a big opera star. But because this made his interest in her come off as potentially incestuous, especially when he

abducts her and intends for her to live with and sing for him, it was removed.) By extension, his desire to publish his concerto and use the money to continue supporting her lessons, which results in his being so wound up that he believes his music has been stolen and murders the publisher (who was a complete asshole, by the way, but still), has a skin-crawling vibe to it. It also makes the way in which he becomes the Phantom feel more pathetic than tragic. At least in the Hammer film, Lom's Prof. Petrie discovered that the despicable Lord Ambrose D'Arcy had actually stolen his music, his life's work, and became burned by acid in an attempt to stop him.

By the time the third act rolls around, Claudin's obsession with Christine goes from intending to help make her a famous singer, which he does by first drugging Biancarolli so she takes her place in the opera, and then murdering the prima donna and her maid, to wanting to keep her for himself. When Inspector Dubert attempts to draw him out of hiding by re-opening the Opera House and ignoring his warning that Christine is to sing, the Phantom kills one of the officers dressed up as an

extra and takes his costume. Incognito, he makes his way through the backstage area and up into the ceiling, above the chandelier. During the performance, he saws through its chain and drops it onto the audience below. In the ensuing chaos, he finds Christine and has her come with him, passing himself off as one of Dubert's men. But when he gets her to the door leading down into the depths of the Opera House catacombs, Christine realizes the danger she's in. Claudin, more deluded than ever,

talks about her singing only for him from now on and assures her that he's taking her some place beautiful. As they venture down, he admits to murdering Biancarolli, that he loves her, and that they can never go back, as he dropped the chandelier, which he justifies as having been for her. When they arrive at the lake in his lair, he tells her, "You'll love it here, when you get used to the dark. And you'll love the dark, too. It's friendly, and peaceful. It brings rest, and relief from pain. It's right under the opera. The music comes down,

and the darkness distills it, cleanses it of the suffering that made it, and it's all beauty. And life here is like a resurrection." But when he takes her to his living chamber, Claudin is shocked to hear his own concerto being played up above. He sits down at his piano and begins playing it, trying to outdo Franz Liszt's playing and the orchestra up above, and encourages Christine to sing along with it. She does, but while he's distracted with his playing, she moves in close and removes his mask. Unlike Lon Chaney's Phantom, he comes off as more shocked and then disappointed, rather than hurt and enraged. At that moment, Dubert and Anatole Garron find their way down to his lair. During their confrontation, a stray gunshot hits the ceiling, causing a massive cave-in that Christine, Dubert, and Garron escape, but Claudin is crushed to death.

I must admit that, while never menacing, Claude Rains does look good in the Phantom's costume and mask, although you only really see him in the traditional black suit, cape (with a purplish-red inside), and hat when he threatens and then murders Biancarolli and her maid; for much of the third act, he's dressed in a hooded robe after killing a policemen disguised to look like an extra in the opera. I do especially like the look of the mask, as it's more classic to me than the one Lon Chaney

wore. Speaking of which, this is the first of many adaptations where, instead of being born disfigured, the Phantom starts out normal but his face is badly scarred by acid. In creating the makeup, this was an instance where Jack Pierce had to conform to the demands of both the studio and the star. Rains, always looking to avoid being typecast in horror, didn't want the makeup to be too hideous, while producer George Waggner and the studio didn't want to offend soldiers returning from the war who'd been disfigured in combat. The end

result was a makeup that wasn't too extensive or hideous: just a big red scar covering much of the right side of his face, as well as a drooping eyelid. While it gets across the idea that the flesh has been burned down to the muscle, it's not as iconic as Chaney's skull face, or as wince-inducing as the burn scars in other versions. Also, when Rains is wearing the mask, it's obvious through the right eye-hole that the burns aren't there.

Unlike Christine Daae in the 1925 film, Christine DuBois (Susanna Foster) is completely unaware of the Phantom's presence in her life. Understudy to the Paris Opera House's prima donna, she knows Erique Claudin as little more than a casual acquaintance, one she sees as eccentric but, otherwise, harmless. She initially has no knowledge of his infatuation with her, nor does she learn he was the one paying for her very pricey voice lessons. She's even unaware that the two of them hail from the same village, as she also knows the lullaby which Claudin turns into a concerto. For the first act, Christine's biggest worries are how Inspector Raoul Dubert and Anatole Garron are vying for her affection, and how others, like conductor Villeneuve and her singing teacher, Signor Ferretti, are telling her that she must choose between either her singing career or an ordinary life. But then, after Claudin is charged with murdering the publisher and disappears, Christine finds herself receiving aid in her singing career from an unseen benefactor. First, she hears his voice emitting from the walls, telling her that he's going to help her become a great singer, and then, when Mme. Biancarolli is suddenly taken ill during a performance, Christine has to take her place. Though her performance goes over very well, the jealous and spiteful Biancarolli accuses Christine and Garron of drugging the wine she drank earlier. When Dubert refuses to arrest them, Biancarillo blackmails them by agreeing to drop all charges only if Christine is replaced as her understudy and her performance not mentioned in the papers. It doesn't matter, though, as the Phantom murders Biancarolli and the Opera House is temporarily closed. When it's reopened, and both Dubert and Garron initiate their own plans to capture the Phantom, Christine, despite having been warned not to be there, is unable to stay away during the opening of a new opera. Her presence gives the Phantom the opportunity, after he drops the chandelier on the audience, to abduct her amidst the chaos and spirit her away to his lair. Though frightened of him, and singing only reluctantly, when Christine is rescued and the Phantom killed when his lair caves in, she admits that did feel pity, as well as a kind of connection with him due to their shared lullaby, and is glad he was able to hear it played.

Instead of Christine initially being torn between her devotion to the Phantom and her love for Raoul de Chagny, here she has two rivals for her affections, in addition to the Phantom's unwanted interest: Inspector Raoul Dubert (Edgar Barrier) and the Opera House's baritone, Anatole Garron (Nelson Eddy). Their rivalry is established at the beginning, with Dubert wishing that Christine would leave the opera and be with him, and growing jealous when he learns Garron is intent

on helping her achieve her dream of becoming a great singer. Garron, on the other hand, being someone who shares her love for the arts, has become quite close to Christine, having expressed his own love for her by sculpting a small statue purely from drawings and memory. He and Dubert are complete opposites and, when they first formally meet, each of them makes not so subtle jabs at the other's profession, especially on Dubert's part. And yet, in various ways, they end up complimenting each other. While Dubert learns of Claudin's interest in Christine when he finds her statue in his abandoned room, Garron deduces that Claudin took it because he's in love with her. The two of them also come up with their own individual plans to capture the Phantom: Dubert intends to draw him out by having the management ignore his demands and let someone else sing the lead in the newest opera, while Garron arranges for famed composer Franz Liszt to play Claudin's concerto afterward. In the end, their plans both work in their own ways: despite the havoc he wreaks and his abduction of Christine, Dubert's plan does lure the Phantom out, while Garron's allows the two of them to find his lair and rescue Christine during the climax. Despite their rivalry, Dubert is good enough not to arrest Garron and Christine when Mme. Biancarolli accuses them of drugging her. Garron, for his part, doesn't deny that he had opportunity to drug her, or motive for doing so, not bothering to hide his contempt for her, but denies having done it. Dubert, in turn, tells Biancarolli that there's no hard evidence they did it, telling her, "Hearsay is not evidence, Madame." And Garron is outraged over Biancarolli's nasty demand over her dropping the whole thing.

Dubert and Garron's rivalry over Christine is played purely for comedic effect, with both of them often arriving at the same time to speak with her, attempting to overrule and talk over each other, and just being annoyed at each other's presence. In the scene where the two of them come to her with their individual plans about capturing the Phantom, they argue, with Dubert telling Garron to keep his plan to himself and his friends, while Garron tells Dubert that he's turned detective and that Christine

must perform at the opera, despite Dubert's objections. They then both attempt to talk with her alone, she says she's going out, and they both say at the same time that their carriages are waiting outside. Christine says she's going out later and they both sit down, each of them saying, "I'll wait." Despite their eventually working together during the climax to save her, after Biancarolli is murdered, there's a section where Garron chases the Phantom up into the rafters, with Dubert attempting to chase him up there. Afterward,

Dubert admits to Garron that he was following him specifically. And there's a constant running gag between them where they try to leave at the same time, only to bunch up together in the doorway. The film ultimately ends on this when Christine, now a big opera star, is more interested in basking in the applause of and receive bouquets from her admirers than either of them. Defeated, they decide to have supper together and attempt to leave, only to bunch up in the doorway of Christine's dressing room. After doing this twice, they good-naturedly take each other's arms and leave together.

Mme. Biancarolli (Jane Farrar), the Carlotta equivalent in this version, is much nastier than her 1925 counterpart. While the original version of that film depicted Carlotta as having disdain for Christine, believing that the Phantom's threats were merely her and her friends plotting against her, Biancarolli proves to be much more snobbish and petty towards her understudy. Already jealous of Anatole Garron's interest in Christine, when the Phantom drugs a cup of wine that Biancarolli drinks during a performance, causing her to pass out and force the management to put Christine in her place, she's sure it's Christine and Garron conspiring against her. She demands that Inspector Dubert arrest them both, but he refuses on the account that there's no hard evidence. Unwilling to let it pass, Biancarolli first threatens to go over Dubert's head to get the arrest, but she's warned that, should her ploy fail, the resulting scandal could damage the Opera House's reputation and, thus, endanger her career. Irked at the notion that she forget the whole, Biancarolli agrees to do so... under the condition that Christine be pushed back into the chorus and remain there for the two years Biancarolli is to be with the opera, and that no critics are to write about Christine's performance. Either that, or she threatens to charge both Christine and Garron with attempted murder. Her ultimatum does work for a little bit, until she gets an unexpected visit from the Phantom in her dressing room. He warns her that Christine is to sing the following night and that she had best leave Paris. Instead, Biancarolli stands up to him and attempts to remove his mask, leading him to kill both her and her maid.

The man who warns Biancarolli of the dire consequences of her charges is the opera manager, Amiot (J. Edward Bromberg). In his introductory scene, he laments to his assistant manager, Lecours (Fritz Feld), their having taken over the Opera House on the heels of Erique Claudin's murder of the publisher and subsequent disappearance. He specifically grumbles about Claudin being insolent enough to commit murder after being with the opera for twenty years, while Lecours remarks,

"After twenty years with the Paris Opera, a man is capable of anything, my dear Amiot." While Amiot is rather wound up, Lecours is often laid back and disinterested, making wry comments and quips about the strange goings-on, such as the disappearance of Amiot's master key and how it would allow the thief to open any of the thousands of doors and cabinets in the building. Amiot tells him, "You don't seem to realize the extent of this place, Lecours. You have never taken the trouble to find out," and Lecours replies, "Why should I? I

have troubles enough." Speaking of which, when they're told of several missing costume items, as well as a recent robbery in the restaurant, it incenses Amiot even more. Much to his annoyance, Vercheres (Steven Geray), the stage manager, blames the recent occurrences on a ghost he insists is haunting the Opera House. Though Vercheres came off as rather threatening himself towards Christine at the beginning of the film, admonishing her for missing the third act curtain call, he's terrified of this "ghost," describing him as having, "A long nose, and a big, red beard." He often mimes this description with his hand in front of his face, including to someone whom he then realizes fits said description to a T. And a young Hume Cronyn has an early role as Gerard, one of Dubert's men.

While many of the authority figures in the film are rather dickish, the Opera House's conductor, Villeneuve (Frank Puglia), is more stern but fair. Early in the movie, after Christine misses her curtain call, he sees her in his office, more to talk with her about her interest with Dubert. Learning of Dubert's profession, Villeneuve tells Christine, "You have great promise, Mme. DuBois. But you must choose between an operatic career and what is usually called 'a normal life.' Though why it's so called is beyond me. You can't do justice to both. The artist has a special temperament, and he must live his life exclusively with those who understand it... You'll find that music has its compensations, my dear." A very old-fashioned attitude, yes, but the way he expresses it is much better than it could've been. He's similarly sympathetic to Erique Claudin when he sees him, having pinned him as the source of discord in the orchestra, and regrets telling him that he can no longer live up to the Opera House's standards and he must dismiss him. Villeneuve assumes he has enough money to live on, unaware of his funding Christine's voice lessons, setting him on the road to becoming the Phantom. Later, Villeneuve and Garron come up with the idea to capture Claudin by having Franz Liszt play his concerto at the opera.

Christine's teacher, Signor Ferretti (Leo Carrillo), is portrayed as quick-tempered and all the more critical of anything that may be distracting Christine from her studies; when she's lackluster during a session, he tells her to cut any man who's distracting her out of her life, adding, "Music is first. Music is everything." When Claudin comes to him to tell him of his dismissal from the orchestra, Ferretti is less than sympathetic, especially when Claudin asks him to continue teaching Christine until he can get a new job. He calls Claudin a "fool," telling him that he will never win Christine's affections, a statement that doesn't sit well with Claudin, as they agreed never to discuss his motives for backing her lessons. Ferretti admits that Christine doesn't need many more lessons to become a great singer, but he has little faith in Claudin's concerto, commenting, "Every violinist has written a concerto!" Regardless, Claudin is confident that he can get a substantial advance for having it published.

The music publisher, Pleyel (Miles Mander), turns out to be a complete asshole. First, when Claudin comes to see about his concerto, Pleyel keeps him waiting all day, while he works with his assistant on etchings. Finally, Claudin barges in, asking about the concerto, and Pleyel rudely and dismissively tells him, "You'll find it on the desk, if it's anywhere." Claudin and the assistant are unable to find it on the desk and Claudin becomes frantic, as it's his only copy, when Pleyel tells him, "Did

we ask you to bring your music to us, Claudin? I've seen samples of your compositions before. Perhaps some employee has thrown this one into the waste basket where it belongs." He orders Claudin to get out but then, he hears his concerto being played in another room. Unbeknownst to him, it's being played by Franz Liszt (Fritz Leiber), as Pleyel's partner, Desjardins (Paul Marion), tells him that he's been trying to get Pleyel to publish Claudin's work for many years, but he's prejudiced against unknown composers. Unaware of this, Claudin, already worked up, attacks Pleyel when he angrily tells him to get out, strangling him to death. The sad thing is that Liszt had just assured Desjardins that he would see to it that Pleyel publishes the concerto. Later, Garron and Villeneuve call upon Liszt to play the concerto at the Opera House to lure out Claudin. Liszt is happy to cooperate, finding the idea of detective work exciting, and says, "So many crimes have been committed in the name of music. It seems only fair to use it now to avert one."

While Phantom of the Opera may not be among the greatest Universal Horrors (at least to me), you'd be hard-pressed to find one that's more pleasing to the eye. The three-strip Technicolor used for the film is absolutely gorgeous, especially when you watch a high-definition version, as it brings out the bright colors of both the elaborate costumes and magnificent sets, while the prominent candlelight creates a golden glow in the darker scenes. The downside to the Technicolor, though, is that images and settings such as the

Phantom's shadow creeping within the Opera House's walls, the backstage area, and his underground lair during the climax aren't as dark and atmospheric as they would've been in black and white (not helped by the movie's almost deliberate lack of horror). Regardless, whether we're in the lair or the Opera House's auditorium, director Arthur Lubin and his two cinematographers, W. Howard Greene of Technicolor and Hal Mohr, make sure that we get

to see the expansive sets. Mohr, in particular, made use of the Broadway crane, which he'd helped develop, for big, sweeping shots of the auditorium during the opera scenes. His and Greene's work on the film led to them receiving Academy Awards, making this the only classic Universal horror film to win an Oscar.

Another person whose work on the film netted him an Oscar was art director Alexander Golitzen, who made great use of many sets that were already standing at the studio. As you likely guessed, the auditorium is the oft-reused set originally built for the 1925 Phantom, redressed for Technicolor. As amazing as it was in the Lon Chaney film, I think it's even more incredible here, with the dazzling colors adding to the amazing scale those Broadway crane shots give off, from the stage itself, the orchestra section, and the audience, to the many

balconies reaching up to the ceiling, from which hangs that lovely, golden chandelier (more on that later). As for the main stage, it features many nice-looking sets for the various operas performed on it, from the village set used for the opening performance of Martha, to a massive and elegant ballroom, with two descending stairways from a large landing and several nice chandeliers hanging down, for Amour Et Gloire, and finally, the set with a mountainous background for Le Prince Masque du Caucasus. Those are hardly the only memorable

parts of the building, as Amiot and Lecours have an enormous, elegant room with a large fireplace, two desks, and several chandeliers as their office; Villeneuve's office is smaller and more dimly lit, with only a candelabra as a light source, but it's no less elegant; both Christine and Mme. Biancarolli's dressing rooms are quite beautiful, with Christine's looking very similar to that of her 1925 counterpart; and even the many corridors and hallways are lovelier and more well-designed than

they really need to be. Finally, while the backstage area isn't as memorably creepy as in the silent movie, the area above the stage, the setting for a short chase between Garron and the Phantom, is an impressive maze of scaffolding, ladders, and numerous hanging ropes. And here, we get more of a look at the opening in the domed ceiling the chandelier hangs from, which the Phantom drops on the audience late in the film.

A similarly large and elegant setting is the home of Signor Ferretti, which features this very large room with his piano where he teaches Christine, with a color palette consisting of pinkish walls and a blue floor, and a pinkish and light-purplish waiting room. The same goes for the offices of Pleyel and Desjardins, with the room where the confrontation between Erique Claudin and Pleyel takes place having the feel of someone's home rather than any sort of workplace. Although Christine herself is far from rich, the small apartment she lives in with her

aunt (who had a larger role in the initial script but, in the final film, has just a brief appearance in only scene) is quite lovely itself, with a nice piano, a desk with a gold candelabra on it, elegantly-shaped windows, well-crafted and upholstered chairs, and the like. It's a far cry from Claudin's home, which is a small, dimly-lit, oppressive room that's little more than a loft, with slanted walls on the left side, one small desk by the window, a file cabinet, and a piano in the back of the room.

After he's burned by the acid, Claudin eventually flees down into the dank, dark, and nasty sewers of Paris. This leads back to the Opera House, which he begins haunting within its inner walls. During the third act, when he abducts Christine, we finally we get to see his lair, and the route to it is laid out in a similar fashion as the 1925 film. A door in the backstage area leads to a tunnel, which itself leads to some stone steps that go further down into the rat-infested catacombs. Within the series of dark tunnels and corridors down there is a large

chamber housing a dark lake, which lies right beneath the auditorium, and has a walkway circling it that leads to the Phantom's actual lair, which is a dark room with water dripping from the ceiling and contains some furniture and a piano. It's not as memorable or as morbid as the lair of Chaney's Phantom, but like every other technical aspect of the film, the production design is absolutely marvelous.

Unlike the ambiguous settings and time periods of most Universal horror films, Phantom '43 is most definitely set in the gaslight era of the 1800's, and it's refreshing to see one of these movies really lean into that, a decade or so before Hammer and Roger Corman's Edgar Allan Poe films made full-color Gothics popular. The shots of the Paris streets created on the backlot really sell this feeling, with the gas-powered street lamps, horse-drawn carriages, and often wet and dirty stone-paved roads, as well as how the interiors are often lit only

by candlelight. The same goes for the costumes, created by Universal veteran Vera West, from the elegant dresses the women wear, and the snazzy suits worn by the men, particularly Garron and Dubert in his uniforms and Napoleon-like hat, to the brilliant costumes the performers wear during the opera sequences and the not so vibrant clothes worn by those who are clearly lower down on the social ladder. And, of course, the production design in general. But, as with most of these movies, the

filmmakers clearly didn't care about the characters being of the right nationality for the setting, as there's not a single Frenchman or -woman to be found here. Everyone is either English or full-on American, with even the Italian Signor Ferretti being played by an American using a stereotypical Italian accent.

Other than some possible matte paintings to make certain scenes look much bigger in scope than they actually were, I didn't think there was any visual effects work to be found here. But, according to film historian Scott MacQueen in his audio commentary, the chandelier that features so prominently and is the center of one of the most memorable setpieces is actually a miniature! I figured they used visual effects for when the Phantom drops it on the audience, as you can make out some matting effects in those shots, but I never imagined that the thing was anything but a full-size prop in those other shots. That is some nicely done camerawork and editing right there.

Despite the movie being very heavily based around the opera itself, the filmmakers ran into problems regarding the rights to various works, as World War II made it nigh impossible to get clearances for them, not to mention that the studio didn't want to shill out the money anyway. So, all of the operas were either in the public domain or adapted by composer Edward Ward from classical music works. Martha, the show which the film opens on, is an actual opera, written by Friedrich von Flotow, but the second one, Amour Et Gloire, is based

around various works by Chopin, and the final one, Le Prince Masque du Caucasus, a supposed Russian opera, is actually adapted from Tchaikovsky's 4th Symphony. (While Faust, the opera that featured heavily in both the original novel and the 1925 film, is not performed, there is a subtle reference to it at the end of the movie. When Christine enters her dressing room following an offscreen performance, she's wearing a costume from that opera.) According to IMDB's soundtrack

section on the film, producer George Waggner, himself a music connoisseur and songwriter, wrote the lyrics for the latter operas, which were then translated into the appropriate languages. He also did the same for Lullaby of the Bells, the song that connects Claudin and Christine. While also used in instrumental form as part of the actual score, it's also played several times in the movie itself: first by Claudin, on the violin for Villeneuve and in the piano in his room, then by Christine on her piano,

with her and Garron singing the lyrics, by Franz Liszt on piano and the opera orchestra, and by the Phantom on the piano in his lair. It's a very lovely, poignant-sounding tune, particularly when played on the violin, and Susanna Foster and Nelson Eddy sing it very well in that one scene, but as Scott MacQueen mentions in his narration for the documentary, The Opera Ghost: A Phantom Unmasked, while it's meant to be French in origin, like so much else in this film, it seems more, "Gaelic than Gallic."

But, as spectacular and well-sung as these opera sequences are (although, I can't take those really high notes), allowing the filmmakers to show off the large budget they had to work with, the film focuses far more on them than they should. Like I've said, it never tries to be creepy or atmospheric, instead reveling in the bright Technicolor, high production values, and the music and singing, which tend to really go on and on. It gets to the point where the Phantom, already neutered by this milquetoast portrayal, feels almost like an

afterthought. Sometimes, these sequences are juxtaposed with the Phantom working behind the scenes, like when he drugs Biancarolli's wine, infiltrates Dubert's undercover forces by taking the place of one of them, or drops the chandelier on the audience, but for the most part, you feel like you're watching a colorful musical rather than a supposed Gothic horror film. And while the movie was one of Universal's biggest commercial successes, critics at the time were mixed about it for these very

reasons, with the New York Times noting, "The richness of décor and music is precisely what gets in the way of the tale," and The New Yorker commenting on how Claude Rains is not even close to Lon Chaney. It may get more favorable notices now but, I know that I myself and other Universal Horror fans still agree with those original critics.

After a slow start, the first major scene comes when Erique Claudin, after waiting around at the offices of Pleyel and Desjardins all day, decides to go down and see the former himself, despite being told he's not seeing anyone. He's summarily and cruelly dismissed by Pleyel when he's unable to find his concerto's manuscript, but just as he's about to leave, he overhears his concerto being played in the next room. Enraged, believing that Pleyel has stolen it, Claudin, calling him a thief,

grabs him by the throat and chokes him ferociously. Pleyel's assistant tries to stop him but Claudin continues his assault, throwing her off when she tries to make him let go. With no other recourse, she grabs the tray full of etching acid, while Claudin flings Pleyel to the floor. Aghast at this, she throws the acid in his face, causing him to grab at it and stumble out of the office and the building, yelling in pain. Once he's gone, the assistant tells Desjardins and everyone else that Claudin murdered Pleyel. Desjardins has both a

doctor and the police called and soon, the latter are conducting a city-wide search. They don't find Claudin at his apartment, which he stumbles towards, only to fall back when he sees them. Finding the other way blocked off, as the police search a passing carriage, Claudin hides underneath a wagon parked by the curb. Still moaning in pain from the acid, he crawls to the wagon's rear, grabs a lantern hanging off it, and quietly slips down through an open manhole. Hanging onto the ladder, he slides the lid closed,

which the nearby cops hear. They come over and inspect the wagon, as he watches from beneath the manhole cover. He then climbs down to the bottom and heads down into the tunnel. Still in horrible pain, he groans loudly and, desperate to make it stop, drops into the nasty water flowing through the tunnel and splashes it in his face.

Soon, Claudin begins maneuvering within the walls of the Opera House, as the management are told of various thefts that have occurred, including of Amiot's master key to every door in the building. At the same time, Inspector Dubert informs Christine of Claudin's interest in her, having found the statue of her that Anatole Garron sculpted. Then comes the night of the performance of Amour Et Gloire. Mme. Biancarolli leaves her dressing room and heads for the stage, unaware of

the Phantom's shadow looming over her room's door. Meanwhile, in her own dressing room, Christine hears a voice tell her, "Christine, you're going to be a great and famous singer. I'll help you." Shocked at the sound of this, Christine looks in the back of her room but finds no one hiding in there. The show gets underway, with Biancarolli singing the lead, while Christine leaves her room and tries to shake off the eerie feeling the voice left with her. She's then further surprised when Garron

says the exact same thing when he comes up behind her. She tries to tell him of what happened but he doesn't pay much attention and goes to join Biancarolli on the stage. As the two of them sing a duet, a cutaway shows the Phantom's shadow falling over a cup of wine backstage, which he picks up, lifts almost off-camera, and then places back on the table. The cup is brought onstage by an extra playing a waiter and, after finishing her song, Biancarolli drinks it. The performance ends and everyone heads offstage, when Biancarolli begins

to feel strange and eventually collapses. Learning of this, Vercheres, believing it to be the work of the opera ghost, has her taken to the dressing room and a doctor called. He then tells Christine she will have to take Biancarolli's place and arranges for her to get changed. Later, in her dressing room, the doctor confirms that Biancarolli was drugged, and she's none too happy when she hears Christine singing in her place. Christine's unexpected appearance surprises everyone else onstage and in the orchestra, but they manage to go on and she really brings down the house. All the while, the Phantom listens down in his lair.

Though Biancarolli is able to momentarily crush Christine's ambitions with her ultimatum, following another performance, she and her maid get an unexpected visit from the Phantom, who emerges from a draped closet in the back of the dressing room. He tells her, "Christine DuBois will sing tomorrow night. Leave Paris. This is your last warning." But instead of being afraid, Biancarolli is enraged and storms up to the Phantom, demanding he remove his mask. The two of them struggle and the film cuts to outside her dressing

room, as her screams are heard. Other people come running, as the Phantom leaves the room and runs down a nearby hall. Garron spots him and follows him to a door that opens to a spiraling stairway leading up into the rafters above the stage. As Christine and the others are told that both Biancarolli and her maid have been murdered, Garron pursues the Phantom up onto the scaffolding high up in the ceiling. Down below, Inspector Dubert heads up the staircase himself. Spotting the Phantom climbing higher, Garron

continues his pursuit, following up the same ladder. The Phantom drops his hat in the chase but keeps going, while Dubert sees Garron climbing up from below and follows him. Garron chases the Phantom onto the scaffolding but, after losing sight of him, climbs across the ropes hanging down, trying to find where he might've gone. He doesn't spot him watching from a walkway behind the ropes and returns to the one he was previously on. The Phantom, wielding a rope attached to a hook

and pulley, follows behind him and tosses it, knocking Garron off the scaffolding. He manages to grab onto a rope dangling in front of the curtain and then grabs onto the curtain itself. The Phantom watches as he attempts to keep his grip while climbing his way down and leaves the scene. Dubert sees Garron hanging from the curtain and climbs back down down, while Garron is forced to grab another rope and clumsily swings down to the stage floor. He gets up and tells the others, including Dubert, that he was chasing the murderer. However, no one else saw the Phantom, and Dubert admits he was following Garron himself.

The climax begins on the night of the performance of Le Prince Masque du Caucasus, with both Dubert and Garron employing their own plans to lure out and capture the Phantom. Despite the management getting another threatening note from him, Dubert goes on with his plan to have someone other than Christine sing, while also having placed his men throughout the Opera House, both in the audience and as extras in the show. He also sees Garron preparing his own plan involving Franz Liszt. Dubert tells his men dressed up as extras to

remain onstage throughout the opera, but to be as inconspicuous as possible. However, his plan hits a snag when, despite being warned to stay home, Christine shows up, wanting to support the new opera. Dubert asks her to wait for him in her dressing room. The performance begins, and one of the officers dressed as an extra is attacked from behind by the Phantom, who flings a rope around his neck, drags him back, and strangles him. Now wearing the man's costume, the Phantom is able to roam about the backstage area freely, passing by

Dubert without attracting attention. Dubert then finds the strangled man's body, covered by the Phantom's cape. Knowing he's now in disguise, Dubert rips the mask off the first person he sees, only to find a bewildered extra. He warns his subordinate, Gerard, telling him to watch everyone closely. He continues moving among the people, ripping another mask off a random extra standing next to Vercheres. Knowing what he's up to, Vercheres does his hand motions describing the

the opera ghost's supposed face, only to realize this extra looks exactly like that. As Garron begins singing his part in the opera, the Phantom climbs a ladder up into the rafters and, this time, goes all the way up into the roof, above the chandelier. While the performance goes on, he starts sawing through the old, rusty chain attached to the chandelier; unbeknownst to him, the police are searching the rafters down below. It takes a long time for him to completely get through the chain, enough for

Garron to complete his solo and the female lead to begin hers, and for the police ti manage to find the path he climbed up. But finally, he saws totally through the chain-link and the female singer, in the midst of her performance, looks up to see the chandelier swaying. She lets out a scream and the audience looks right before the chain gives way and the chandelier falls down onto them.

Chaos breaks out, with people running and clamoring to get out of the auditorium. Having heard the crash, Christine wanders into the backstage area, where the Phantom is waiting for her. Passing himself off as one of the incognito policemen, he leads her backstage and through the door that opens into the catacombs which go down into his lair. He stifles a scream she lets out upon realizing he's not a policeman and leads her down into the darkness, going on about how much he loves her. The police discover that the chandelier's

chain was sawed through, and Dubert heads to Christine's dressing room, only to learn she's not there. As the Phantom brings Christine down into the bowels of his lair, Dubert joins Garron onstage, as he prepares for Franz Liszt to play Claudin's concerto. He tells Garron of Christine's disappearance and Garron, after imploring Liszt and the orchestra to play, joins Dubert and the police in their search of the backstage area. They find their way into the tunnels and split up to cover more ground, with Dubert and Garron taking the

correct passage together. Up above, Liszt and the orchestra begin playing the concerto, which the Phantom recognizes. In his living area, he has Christine sit down, while he goes to his piano and begins playing it himself. In a nearby tunnel, Dubert and Garron hear the performance up above and figure that Claudin may be up there, listening to it. As he plays on the piano, Christine clearly recognizes the lullaby from her hometown; at the same time, Dubert and Garron realize they're

hearing it being played farther down the tunnel ahead of them. They follow the sound, reaching the lake, when a piece of the wall crumbles behind the walkway they're on, revealing how unstable the place is. Trying to outdo Liszt and the orchestra above, Claudin encourages Christine to sing and she does, giving Dubert and Garron more of a sound to follow. This leads to the moment where she gets close to Claudin while he's distracted with his playing and rips his mask off, revealing his scarred face.

Christine backs away at the sight of him, when Dubert and Garron run into the room. Dubert pulls a gun on Claudin, telling him not to move, but Claudin reaches behind him and grabs a sword. Dubert goes to shoot but Garron, likely trying to prevent exactly what happens next, deflects his arm, causing him to shoot up into the ceiling. That's all it takes for the place to begin caving in around them, and while Christine runs to her rescuers and they head out the door, Claudin is quickly buried beneath the rubble and dust. The

three of them rush back through the tunnel, to the lake chamber, and around the edge of the lake itself, as chunks of the roof fall down into the water. They make it through the tunnel leading away from the lake, right before it's sealed up completely (while it is Susanna Foster throughout this sequence, Nelson Eddy and Edgar Barrier were doubled, as their safety was deemed far more important by the studio). Once they're in the clear, they realize that Claudin knew the lullaby because

he hailed from the same area as Christine, while Christine admits that she pitied him. Garron assures her, "His suffering and madness will be forgotten. His music, his concerto, will remain," as Christine says she's glad that Claudin got to hear his concerto played. Before the comedic final scene, it cuts back to the caved-in chamber, to show Claudin's violin and mask lying beside a mound of rubble.

While he didn't win, composer Edward Ward was nominated for an Oscar for his score (the film received a fourth nomination for Sound Recording), and although it's not a favorite of mine, it is certainly an inspired one and, at this point, it's refreshing to hear music that's not recycled from numerous previous films. Like the movie itself, the score focuses far more on the operatic and poignant aspects of the story, rather than the horror. The main title is a perfect example of this, as it's a beautiful symphony, with aspects of the Lullaby of the Bells song built into it, but with a few hints of menace. Like I said earlier, that lullaby is used throughout the score in instrumental form, often alluding to the sadness and tragedy of Erique Claudin's character, most memorably in the scene where he returns to his little apartment after being dismissed from the orchestra. Speaking of which, when he becomes the Phantom, he gets an eerie sort of leitmotif that's greatly emphasized when he takes Christine down into his lair. And while it's not focused on much, when things do get tense and exciting the music does follow suit, with the most memorable to me being this dramatic theme that plays when Garron chases the Phantom up into the rafters above the stage. Finally, there's a bit of comedic music used to illustrate Garron and Dubert's rivalry, which sounds like it's based a bit on the music from the opera of Martha.

The 1943 Phantom of the Opera is an entry in the Universal Horror canon that, while I may not hate it, is one of my least favorites, despite its perceived classic status. It's a breathtakingly beautiful film, with bright Technicolor, gorgeous set design, an appealing period aesthetic, some good setpieces, a well-done music score, and higher production values than are typical for such a movie made during this period, but it's more of a case of style over substance. The story focuses far more on the opera itself and the comedic love triangle between the three main leads than the more horrific and macabre aspects, it's never creepy or atmospheric, and, while Claude Rains, as always, gives a good performance, this portrayal of the Phantom himself doesn't work for me and is robbed of the mystery that the best adaptations have going for them. If you want a bright, colorful musical, I'd say give it a watch, but those who want an actual Gothic horror film may want to stick with the original Lon Chaney classic.