Picture this: you’re sitting in a lush, ornate West End theatre, peering down onstage at a misty set with sheer drapes and a large covered shape marked “chandelier.” All of a sudden, the sheet over the chandelier is swiftly removed, its lights are illuminated and brilliant, and the entire light fixture begins to rise over the heads of the audience as the first pounding chords to the overture of The Phantom of the Opera ring out through the theatre. Such is the first minute or so of action in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s world-famous musical, and needless to say, I was mesmerized as beautiful music, lavish sets, phenomenal acting, and a compelling story unfolded before me for the next two and a half hours.
The set before the show began (I stealthily snuck a picture)
At its heart, Phantom is here to entertain. It is not out to make a statement, provoke discussion, or be overanalyzed. In my mind, Phantom is a beautiful escape from reality, transporting the audience into a more distant time and place, the Paris Opera in 1911. The story revolves around a young opera soprano named Christine who becomes caught in a love triangle between Raoul, the handsome patron of the opera house, and the mysteriously obsessive, disfigured “Phantom of the Opera.” Given that I consider myself to be an avid Phantom enthusiast and have seen the show several times in San Francisco, I was genuinely awestruck as I sat in the same theatre where the production first premiered in 1986.
For me, the most captivating aspect of the show is the title character himself. Following Christine and Raoul’s exit after their rooftop love song in the first act, the Phantom is lowered from above and it is evident from the pain on his face that he has heard their entire exchange. As he painfully laments, “He was bound to love you/When he heard you sing”, his anguish mounts and he belts, “You will curse the day you did not do/All that the Phantom asked of you!” Immediately, the music swells and the chandelier, which has been hanging above the audience for the entire first act, comes crashing down onstage and the lights go black. This moment of the Phantom’s rage and destruction is so powerful and engrossing that when the house lights turned on for intermission a few seconds later, I was covered in goose bumps and completely glued to my seat. All I wanted to do stay immersed in this world, and I didn’t want an intermission to interrupt my blissful reverie. I looked around me and observed that none of my fellow audience members were rushing to get up; everyone looked like they were coming out a daze, fully absorbed in the action that had just unfolded.
I can't claim photo credit for this one, but this is the Phantom's perch from which he sings the lyrics above.
As I sat anxiously awaiting the second act, I realized: it’s no coincidence that Phantom is the second longest running musical in the entire world. The act of being completely immersed in this beautifully created and haunting world has kept thousands of people coming back for more than twenty-five years, and I am no exception. Let it be known: after seeing the show in September, I found myself back at Her Majesty’s Theatre to see it again at the end of October. I just can’t stay away from this magic.
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