The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

4.5/5

The Phantom of the Opera (1925) is the classic monster movie that I have been longing to watch for ages. Since I first learned about this silent-era classic over four years ago (in a Cinemasacre video of all places), it has been at the top of my internal watchlist. I would have gladly watched it at any point over the last four years, but I could never find it on any streaming service or in my universal monsters box set (which I was bummed to find out only had the '43 film). This was the way of things until a few days ago when, for no reason in particular, I was looking at this film on Letterboxd. At that moment, I saw the sneaky little Paramount+ logo hiding below the poster. I was ecstatic! I put this baby on my Paramount list and waited a few days until I had the time and clear head to watch Lon Chaney in The Phantom of the Opera. As you have likely surmised by now, today was the fateful day, dear reader, and I am happy to report that the picture lived up to my high expectations.

This silent film is an adaptation of Gaston Leroux's book of the same name and follows a similar plotline for the first few acts. Christine Daaé (Mary Philbin) is a young opera singer at the Paris Opera House. She is being supported behind the scenes by a mysterious figure calling himself the Phantom. The Phantom, whose real name is Erik (Lon Chaney), is a disfigured man living in the tunnels and catacombs beneath the opera house. The Phantom pines after Christine and eventually clashes with Christine's lover, Raoul (Norman Kerry). The dreaded Phantom refuses to let the love of his life go easily. The story is a simple one that has been remade and retold on both screen and stage for centuries, but this film's final act differs from the source material quite a bit. Instead of making Erik realize his internal monstrosity through an act of empathy, he steals Christine and attempts to flee before being caught and murdered by a mob. Now, I love the themes found in the source material's conclusion and other adaptations, but this finale works for me. The biggest reason I can see is that this conclusion is more entertaining on screen. My working theory is that 20s audiences went to theaters to see haunting imagery and exhilarating manhunts. The Phantom is turned into another evil monster for the sake of entertainment. This decision takes away from the book's themes, but it works brilliantly for this picture, which is focused on purely thrilling its audience. This choice sets the tone for the climactic confrontations that we would be seeing in monster and action films alike for the next handful of decades (Frankenstein's final moments were on my mind while watching the final sequence in this movie). This film essentially created the classic monster films I love so much. It wins big points for that.

The performers in this film do a great job of conveying a great range of emotions with no dialogue. Mary Philbin uses her arms with great mastery to express fear, intrigue, and joy. Philbin's movements and expressions during the major unmasking scene culminate in one of the most iconic silent film moments when paired with the brilliance of Lon Chaney. Lon Chaney is often heralded as the greatest silent film star, and his talent is displayed well in this picture. His menacing gestures with the expressions on the horrifying Phantom's face (The makeup of the Phantom was designed and applied by Chaney) lead to a terrifying performance that leaves you wanting more. A few days ago, I read an essay from Roger Ebert on the 1931 film Dracula. In this essay, Ebert mentions that Chaney was meant to play Dracula in 1931 before his sudden death of throat cancer, and, seeing his lavish yet calculated movements here, I understand why. Chaney has a gift for bringing these silent characters to life. His malleable and expressive face was able to work through the makeup he commonly wore, and his choreographed and designed body movements fleshed out characters with no other means of communicating with the audience. This film is a much watch for Chaney's talent alone. He is a genuine film legend.

The shots here are as haunting as anything the later universal monsters have to offer; however, they are lacking something special when compared to German expressionist films of the era (Nosferatu and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). The technical aspect that this film truly succeeds at is the production design. The sets are astounding, and you always buy the setting of 1880s Paris. The catacombs and, more specifically, the Phanotm's chamber stood out to me as incredible achievements in production design. IMDb has this film's directing credit split four ways, but the credited director is Rupert Julian. According to my best friend Roger, Julian was replaced by Edward Sedgwick and aided by Chaney. I am still unsure of the role the fourth cited director, Ernst Laemmle, played in the production of this film. The color masquerade sequence, which was not in the version I watched, is impressive and can be found on YouTube if you are curious about seeing early attempts at color film. The color adds a haunting quality to this sequence that enhances the film.

In conclusion, The Phantom of the Opera is a real cinematic treasure. It is by no means the artistic achievement that Nosferatu was. It lacks unique shots and fails to get a compelling message across. However, The Phantom of the Opera is still an enchanting and entertaining monster movie featuring incredible actors and stunning sets.

Originally Posted to Letterboxd on May 9, 2023