Although I loved Alan Parker's
Although I loved Alan Parker's
Evita, I'm not the world's biggest fan of big splashy operatic musicals. Hence, I had begun to relish the notion of being a counter-advocate of the view held in some quarters that Joel Schumacher's
The Phantom of the Opera (Warner Bros., 12.22) is a certain contender for -- and perhaps even a likely winner of -- the 2004 Best Picture Oscar. Not because it's necessarily the "best" film, but because it satisfies the intensely middle-class emotional criteria that Academy members tend to look for and/or respond to in bestowing this award. Having now seen it, and without going into any kind of pro forma review, I must admit there is merit to this opinion. Is
Phantom grandiose, orgiastic, at times a bit kischy? Yes...but this serves the emotional pitch of Andrew Lloyd Webber's 1986 musical, essentially an old-fashoned backstage romantic triangle delivered in a late 1800s grand guignol vein. It's not my ideal cup of tea -- I tend to prefer angular, more writerly films like
Sideways --but the material is the material, and I'm not sure that turning down the lavishness and the flamboyance would have been more effective. There's a certain integrity in being a broadly performed, flamboyantly colored musical that delivers safe and venerated emotions.
The Phantom of the Opera is what it is.
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