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Sunday, December 26, 2004Speaking of divas…The Phantom of the Opera and Callas In the last two weeks, we’ve gotten two movies tangled up in the opera and the celebrated diva. The Phantom of the Opera is the screen adaptation of the stage production of the novel which is connected to legend. Which gives us how many levels of mise-en-abyme (self-referential stories within stories)? The only thing for certain is that if they release a “Making of Phantom: the Movie,” there will be sufficiently concentrated inter-reflection and inter-refraction to set afire a small city. The novel, the first serious Phantom production, was by Gaston Leroux, a journalist and mystery writer whose stories revealed the logical explanations behind the seemingly inexplicable. The Phantom of the Opera was no exception, showing how the Opera Ghost really created his stunning visual effects and used his knowledge of the catacombs to make himself a legend for his own purposes. In Lloyd Webber’s stage production, the Phantom became a little more magical. We know the Phantom is just a man, but that doesn’t prevent him from keeping us on edge. Even as audiences discuss how the chandelier falls, how the water of the underground lake is simulated and more, they watch, breathless. When Phantom came to the screen, it should have been something of a culmination, with the magic of special effects and the power of editing merging to create a seamless masterpiece of theater. Well, not quite. Surprisingly, the movie makes the Phantom more human than the musical. Unfortunately, it’s through a plot device – he suffered horrible abuse as a child – that is made just a little too compelling. Leroux’s Phantom, too, became a spiritual monster because of the treatment he received due to his disfigurement. But there was a little less of the “awwwwwwwwww” sentimentality to it, a little more of a call for society to do better or face the consequences. There is a second problem with the Phantom – his casting. Give Gerard Butler credit: For someone who is not a trained singer, he didn’t do too badly. For the role as it was written and cast, he acted it well and convincingly. But 1) he’s too young. If, as the script makes clear, the Phantom is just a man, why does he look (on the undisfigured side, anyway) ten or twenty years younger than any of his contemporaries? 2) As I mentioned, Butler is not a trained singer. His voice isn’t bad, nor is his range. But his range is incomplete, and the effect is to make him sound at times like a teenage boy: one minute falsetto, the next minute deep, without the change following either the phrasing or the sense of what’s being sung. Not his fault, of course, but the casting director should have been alert to potential problems. What’s right with Phantom: The Movie? In two words, Emmy Rossum. Only 18, Rossum is hopelessly gifted and has already done almost everything her role required. She’s sung in operas, acted on the stage and screen, danced. The whole nine yards. She is, of course, exquisitely pretty, and the result is that she is at times a bit more unearthly than the Phantom. This is probably what Lloyd Webber had in mind when he created the role for his ex-wife, Sarah Brightman (we’ll refrain from the usual unkind comments as to whether this makes Lloyd Webber the Phantom). In any case, there is a certain believability factor here: One can imagine even an opera company going a little bit crazy over this ingenue. Another thing this Phantom got right was to give a little more heft to Raoul, Christine’s love. While he is still far from a swashbuckling Errol Flynn type, he battles with swords, dives blindly down dangerous passages and gives the general impression that something other than mere sentimentality might have stimulated Christine’s affections. Perhaps the most inspiring casting was that of Simon Callow in the role of M. André and Ciaran Hinds as M. Firmin. André and Firmin are the new owners of the Opéra, bought with the proceeds of their junk – er, scrap metal – business. The two play the paysan parvenu to the hilt, Firmin showing that he knows he’s out of his depth while André struggles to convince everyone of just how dedicated he is to the arts. Some have complained that their act is a trifle vaudevillean. Nonsense, it is the essence of vaudeville and a welcome interlude to high melodrama that might otherwise become unsustainable. Minnie Driver is excellent as Carlotta and the person who provides her singing voice (Margaret Reece) handles the tonalities as well as Driver does the diva’s over the top histrionics. The lighter side of the Phantom is at its finest when la Carlotta and the owners get the chance to play off one another. Lastly, one must mention Jennifer Ellison’s Meg Giry, who is no longer little Meg, young admirer of the blossoming Christine, but now Christine’s age and her number one gal pal. The change jars at first, but for the most part works. However, there is the occasional moment where Meg’s language seems rather deferential alongside her older, less girlish mannerisms and when she’s dancing, she has the same knowing winks and gestures as the other dancers. Both little Meg and the slightly older Meg are sweet, but they should have picked one and stuck with it. Phantom fans will complain about changes in the staging, in the script, in the way the casting was done. I know, being one of them. Still, this is a pretty good production. The one surprise is that Joel Schumacher, who made a rather dark and gothic Batman has a fairly light and airy Phantom. Scenes with Christine, of course, call for the ethereal, but the Phantom’s lair could have been a little darker and danker. Still, a very nice show and a wonderful way to be bowled over for an afternoon. As for Callas… we’re back in the land of meta-art. This time we’ve got a movie about making a movie about an opera that stars a legend. Zeffirelli’s production, however, is more real for its admitted unreality. The plot: Friends of Maria Callas, concerned about her decline after she lost Onassis, come up with a scheme to bring her back alive and give her art one last run. Specifically, they’re going to do a series of movies of the operas in which she starred. And since she can no longer sing, they’ll use new video editing technology so that they can put the old voice with the new pictures. La Callas is, of course, properly scornful of this half-baked idea, until she realizes she has nothing else to do and would really like to be somebody again. But she has one stipulation: She will only do Carmen, since she has never actually performed the role, only sung it. Any other production would be pure fakery, an attempt to recapture something forever lost. But Carmen would involve the creation of something new – her visual presentation of the role. The story is sweet and very well done. Jeremy Irons does a fine job as an aging agent/producer making a bid for immortality, in lieu of being the manager of last week’s hit sensation. And Fanny Ardant makes a very good Callas. The film is at its best when these two get together and start thinking about life and art. For magic and mystery, the Phantom of the Opera is the show to see. But for beautiful music and operatic melodrama grounded in something closer to reality, Callas is wonderful. 
posted by gbarto at 1:20 PM |
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