A Night at His Majesty’s Theatre: ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ Review

A Night at His Majesty’s Theatre: ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ Review

Last winter, I was enjoying my time during my first visit to London in the United Kingdom. Although it was of a fairly short duration, all of the great places I went to and the experiences I took part in were invaluable — from the British National Museum to Greenwich Observatory, everything was unforgettable. However, the subject which I will be discussing today, the performance of The Phantom of the Opera’at His Majesty’s Theatre, was truly one-of-a-kind. I had once seen The Phantom of the Opera when I was young. It was not a live performance; we just watched an old rendition on our home TV. At the time, I did not quite understand the plot of the musical; it was the music I was more interested in. My father is an avid enjoyer of the musical, and he was most excited when he purchased the tickets a few months prior to the performance when we were back at home.

Rather than simply recounting the well-known storyline of the musical about the phantom who haunts an opera house while secretly loving the ballerina Christine Daaé, I want to delve deeper. In this essay, I will explore more of the historical, artistic, and philosophical elements that make this 1986 revolutionary musical a timeless masterpiece that continues to captivate audiences worldwide.

The Phantom of the Opera is a musical composed and produced by playwright Andrew Lloyd Webber, and it first premiered in London. The musical directs us through a profound tragedy and slightly horror-inspiring story of the Phantom of the Opera and his endeavors in haunting the Opera Populaire in Paris. It is, as I believe, not only musically an ingenious work of theater but also a philosophically enticing story that brings up various questions about topics like morality.

The Phantom of the Opera was quite revolutionary when it first premiered on October 9, 1986. Every aspect of the performance, from the striking music to the immense scale of the stage rigging was an incredible novelty for theatrical performances at the time, and I can only imagine the shock and exhilaration of the first audiences who got to experience the spectacle. For over 38 years, The Phantom of the Opera has weathered the test of time and has retained its relentless popularity. As a timeless classic, The Phantom of the Opera deserves utmost admiration and respect. Today, I would like to analyze what makes this musical so great and why it leaves, to this day, such a profound experience for the audiences around the world.

The Palais Garnier, the iconic stage of The Phantom of the Opera, visited during my trip to Paris following the London performance. As the exterior was undergoing renovations, this image has been sourced online.

The Phantom of the Opera possesses a deep and compelling history that roots back to the 19th Century. French novelist Gaston Leroux, who used to work as an investigative journalist, was intrigued by a legend from the 1860s. It was one about the Palais Garnier, a legendary opera house in Paris. The leading architect in its construction, Charles Garnier, realized mid-project about potential issues that a water reservoir under the building’s foundations may cause to the opera house and was forced to build a stone cistern underneath the opera house’s underground pillars. Interestingly, the water reservoir is used to this day as training grounds for Paris’s fire brigade. Gaston Leroux, in his story, wrote that the infamous “Opera Ghost” lived in this stone cistern, shrouded away from the outside world. This can also be seen in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, where oftentimes characters descend down a misty cove where the Phantom resides.

There is yet another peculiar attribute of The Phantom of the Opera that posed as a trademark to both the musical as well as the book, and that is the phantom’s insistence that Box Five of the opera hall must be left unattended. Gaston Leroux suggests that this is a key factor in the Phantom’s seemingly “ghost-like” abilities, for if one sits in the back of Box Five, according to him, they can watch the show without being seen by any of the audience members, allowing the Phantom to slip away from the Concert hall unnoticed. This is quite a clever way to explain this perplexing idiosyncrasy. Today, Box Five of the Palais Garnier has been converted into a museum of all of the various historical antiquities related to The Phantom of the Opera, attracting tourists from all around the world.

Peculiar incidents and myths related to the opera house with the addition of the legendary Opera Ghost’s haunting presence in its chambers have all contributed to the Palais Garnier’s ever-growing recognition around the world.

The iconic chandelier and a subtle glimpse of the legendary Box Five on the right

One of the most thrilling scenes of this musical that arguably made it stand out beyond the rest of its kind in the 1980s was the falling chandelier. In the musical, a colossal chandelier crashes upon the stage, and even after nearly 40 years of production, it still manages to create an extremely exhilarating experience for anyone who watches it. It was an incredible spectacle for me when I saw the show at His Majesty’s Theatre, and it was arguably one of the highlights of the musical. The falling chandelier as well as other perplexing visual effects such as the dynamic set and the phantom’s abrupt disappearances from the stage are the iconic cornerstones of this musical as well as being the primary factors in its overwhelming popularity among audiences. It is difficult to even fathom it — it is 1986, and you are at the world premiere of The Phantom of the Opera, and suddenly a one-ton chandelier comes plummeting down towards the stage. Magnificent and utterly terrifying! Such a mechanical stunt was a first of its time in the theaters, and this eccentric moment most certainly asserted its legacy into history.

However, there is also a darker side to this incredible scene. There is a real incident in which a counterweight of a chandelier in the Palais Garnier once slipped loose during a performance, killing a person in the infamous disaster.

[embed]A performance of “Notes,” highlighting the brilliant polyphonic ensemble of the septet.

Spectacle aside, The Phantom of the Opera’s musical composition is unparalleled by any other musical, at least in popular opinion. I regard Andrew Lloyd Webber very highly in terms of musical ingenuity, for his musical’s various compositions kindled a curiosity for musical genres other than classical music in me. I’ve found his melodies to be incredibly memorable; it is quite often that I find myself humming his melodies during my everyday life, and The Phantom of the Opera finds itself among works by colossal musicians such as Chopin, Beethoven, and Brahms in my YouTube Music playlists.

The musical character of The Phantom of the Opera ranges from mystical ambience, sorrowful romance, all the way to glorious symphonic themes. Something I greatly admire about Andrew Lloyd Webber’s compositions is his abstract instrumentation. He uses instruments from diverse cultures and musical genres ever-so masterfully, creating a seamless interplay between tunes of rock, classical, and pop. Even in the very first seconds in the prologue, we are met by a ghostly, mystical melody played by an instrument that I cannot quite name. Nevertheless, it so naturally blends in with the atmosphere and conforms with the required mysterious texture that it manages to give me chills down my spine every time it plays. It is of such a new compositional style or character that it is almost entirely revolutionary in nature — not even the likes of ‘Le Gibet’ from Gaspard de la Nuit by Ravel or Marche Funèbre from Chopin’s 2nd Piano Sonata can compare, as the instrumentation is simply so exotic that it is difficult to recreate the feeling on the piano.

Another example of Lloyd Webber’s musical ingenuity is the intricate polyphony he quite often uses in his songs. The quintessential example of this technique, I would argue, is the song ‘Notes’ This song comes two times in the musical, with one in Act I and the other in Act II. Located around the midpoint of Act I, the first iteration of ‘Notes’ takes place after Christine is returned to above ground after she discovers the horrifying truth that lies behind the Phantom’s mask. In the opera managers’ office, there is a frenzy of confusion and frankly, some fear as many members of the opera receive mysterious letters sent from the Phantom. They all point to one request, or rather, an order: let Christine play the main role of their next production, Il Muto, as well as to supply him his “salary” of 20,000 francs. Just to put this into context, 20,000 francs adjusted for inflation is a monumental $140,000 (USD) today! Not to mention, the Phantom demands such outrageous payment on a monthly basis! It is no wonder the opera managers laugh it off — we really can’t blame them. Of course, the opera managers simply shake the letters off and assure the Prima Donna, Carlotta Giudicelli, who feels deeply offended by the Phantom’s request, that she will be reserved the main role.

The story besides, ‘Notes’ (specifically the first iteration) features a septet (a piece with seven musicians) where the characters Firmin, André, Raoul, Carlotta, Piangi, Madame Giry, and Meg Giry sing in a simultaneous, almost chaotic polyphonic ensemble. This quite nicely reflects the confusion that is present within the characters of the scene as well, as clearly, all of these people have little to no clue upon how to deal with the situation.

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My personal favorite theme, of course, is undoubtedly the most famous tune: The Phantom’s theme (formally titled as The Phantom of the Opera, but I will refer to it as “the Phantom’s theme” to avoid confusion). It is featured quite abundantly throughout the musical, and I believe it is the pinnacle representation of the musical’s compositions. We can observe, yet again, his ever-experimental approach upon instrumentation, with the classical orchestra being blended in with less conventional instruments such as a synthesizer rig, electric drum machines, a slapped electric bass guitar (which I have never heard of in my life; I am not very educated in anything other than classical music), other heavy metal electric guitars, and even a pre-recorded electric pipe organ. Clearly, Lloyd-Webber really stretched the theater industry’s creative capacity by implementing these novelty instruments into his work, as such instruments normally found themselves in the funk and rock genres, completely alien to the theater pits of the 1980s.

Needless to say, however, the decision to add these instruments was a very good one indeed, as the musical grossed over $6 billion, making it the second-highest-grossing live entertainment franchise in history, surpassed only by Disney’s stage adaptation of The Lion King.

Furthermore, I find the repeating chromatic motif in the Phantom’s theme so intriguing; chromatics are, after all, the most incremental intervals in Western music, and are often used to create a misty, veiled atmosphere. However, Lloyd-Webber dramatically slaps this descending-ascending motif into the main theme of his musical, which reflects more of a colossal, bellowing feeling rather than an intimate, mysterious one.

Moreover, I want to highlight some of the variations of the Phantom’s theme that comes up in a couple of places in the musical — namely the climax of Act I Scene IV. In this scene, we are first introduced to the Phantom in-person, and in a sequence of events, the Phantom passionately yells “sing for me!” while Christine sings an incredibly impressive solo, reaching as high as E6. This is comparable to The Magic Flute’s famous “Vengeance aria,” in which the Queen of the Night hits an F6. Both pieces demand the absolute limit out of these performers, and they both stretch the boundaries of musical expression through these extreme measures.

The heartwarming final curtain call at His Majesty’s Theatre

Finally, it is paramount that to understand the full scope of this story and its popularity, one must understand the character of Erik, the opera ghost himself. The Phantom brings an enticing philosophical question to audiences: is he a simple villainous manipulator of the opera or a tragic victim of the prejudices of society? Such a moral ambiguity brings further engagement from the audience, making the plot even more exciting to experience. This multi-dimensional character is arguably one of the best in storytelling, with the Phantom’s subtle blur in between good and evil. The answer is, of course, highly subjective, but I personally believe that Erik is a quintessential example of the saying “villains are not born, they are created.”

While the mainstream theatrical performances most often neglect the Phantom’s backstory, Gaston Leroux’s original 1910 novel displays a rather uncomfortable, morbid truth about Erik and how he became the villainous character that the musical depicts him to be.

In the novel, Erik was born in a small village near Rouen, France. He was born with a severe facial deformity that caused him to have deeply sunken eyes, no nose, and withered skin. He was described in the novel as looking like a “living corpse” or a “death’s-head.” Even his own mother was so disgusted by Erik’s appearance that she forced him to wear a mask and did not even allow him to touch her. Erik, unable to bear the cruelty brought upon him by the people around him, fled his home as a young child.

Erik was later acquired by nomadic carnival performers and was paraded around European stages as a “freak show” labeled the “Living Dead Man.” However, Erik used this time to educate himself, becoming highly adept in disciplines such as illusion, stagecraft, ventriloquism, sleight of hand, and most importantly, his unusual talent in music. He quickly became a virtuoso in both the violin and the keyboard, as well as developed his extraordinary singing voice.

His talents eventually reached the attention of monarchs and nobles, with Erik traveling to the Far East, spending significant time with the Shah of Persia and the Ottoman Empire. There, he partook in many endeavors for the Middle Eastern courts such as acting as the lead architect and even royal assassin and executioner, with Erik designing complex palaces with deadly elaborate traps. However, these same royals who depended on Erik to create such creations also feared its extortion, which led the Shah of Persia to order Erik to be executed so that he could never build such a palace in the same manner for anyone else. However, Erik managed to escape and travelled to Paris where our familiar story takes place.

Needless to say, the Phantom’s character was one that endured an entire lifetime of abuse, neglect, and betrayal. From his very first days after birth all the way to his betrayal from the Persian courts, Erik was the victim of countless acts of disrespect and perfidy, leading him to eventually completely lose hope in any positive interaction with the rest of society. This is how a vulnerable child with a physical deformation quite literally became a supervillain — an architect, an inventor, an assassin, and a lethal operative — with a disdain for humanity. In the plot of the musical, he performs horrific actions, ones of murder and extortion. But can we blame him? As we have clearly observed in Erik’s early life, he was not loved by a single person; such isolation can truly break a man. Gaston Leroux develops a character that has been completely twisted by his every interaction with humanity; it is only natural that Erik develops a deep hatred for it. However, right before his death, Erik himself reveals that he is not inherently “bad” or “evil;” that he is a product of his environment’s cruelty.

“I am not entirely evil, Daroga… I only wanted to be loved for myself. If Christine liked, she could have made me anything she wanted — a saint, a hero, a savior. But she was afraid of me, and so I became a demon,” said Erik in the novel to his only acquaintance, the Persian Daroga.

Learning this tragic backstory, I am sure you have gained some important insight on why the Phantom acts so demonically in the musical — when he falls in love with Christine, she had the chance to open her heart to the Phantom even after seeing his true appearance under the mask, but rather, she became afraid. She avoided the Phantom and clinged to Raoul, and this is when the Phantom broke. But alas, can we blame Christine either? Not exactly, I would say.

Combine such philosophical tragedy with such excellent musical mastery and some breathtaking spectacles, and you have got yourself one of the most popular and timeless works of art of all time. The Phantom of the Opera has been, and will be for many years to come, one of the pinnacles of musical theater, maintaining its reputation as a gold standard for other arising musicals. Every aspect of this 150-minute masterpiece was utterly nailed, with it still being the musical of choice for many, including myself.