I won’t tell you what he does, but I like to think that Chaney came up with this last bit of Phantom magic himself. The Phantom has the lyrical pomposity of the best villains, rearranging his syntax for effect: No longer like a toad in these foul cellars will I secrete the venom of hatred, for you shall bring me love. So romantic.Īrguably the best performance the Phantom gives is at the very, very end of the film, when an enraged mob chases him to the Seine. When the Phantom presents Christine with the ultimatum to marry him or he will kill her lover, Raoul of the fabulous moustaches, he wags his finger at her, as though she’s being mischievous. (Which, oddly, doesn’t seem to hurt their box office, if later crowds are any indication.) You can practically hear him cackling.
When the Opera managers don’t let Christine play the part of Marguerite as the Phantom has instructed them to do, he sends them a note: “Behold, she is singing to bring down the chandelier!” And then, of course, the chandelier comes crashing down on the audience. What’s so unexpectedly delightful about this Phantom is his demented glee at his own flourishes. The Uncle Sam poster came first, in case you were wondering. Skal)-and which made his face look uncannily like a skull. In fact, Chaney wore a “contoured wire appliance to flare and pull back his nose,” a “contraption which would sometimes cause Chaney to ‘bleed like hell,’” according to cameraman Charles Van Enger ( The Monster Show, David J.
PHANTOM OF THE OPERA MASK PROP SKIN
His eyes are “ghastly beads in which there is no light.” His skin is a “leprous parchment-yellow skin stretched over protruding bones.” And no nose. Early in the film, theater worker Buquet, cradling a prop head because why not, describes the Phantom to a rapt audience of skittish Opera ballerinas. Rumor has it that patrons at the film’s premiere fainted when Christine tears off the Phantom’s mask.Ĭhaney famously did his own makeup here, as elsewhere, and, Hollywood gossip aside, it is both grotesque and astounding.
PHANTOM OF THE OPERA MASK PROP FULL
Hollywood lore tells us that Mary Philbin (playing Christine Daaé) didn’t see Chaney in full Phantom glory until they were filming the reveal scene, the better to terrify her on camera. But Chaney’s Phantom is like Ridley Scott’s alien (admittedly, with less drool), we catch only hints, glimpses of the menace-the swish of a cape here, a gloved hand there, a shadow-until the big reveal. And he’s certainly better at it than poor Christine Daaé (Mary Philbin), the hopelessly uninteresting Faust understudy whom he tutors. It’s an understandable obsession for someone who is so ugly he has to hide from society.
He doesn’t just live underneath an Opera House-he is constantly performing. However deranged he may be, the Phantom, like Chaney, is a sly master of spectacle. Like all great villains, the Phantom has a well-honed sense of theatricality. Best of all is Chaney’s interpretation of the deranged villain. But, like a Ginsu-knife commercial, we also get so much more. It is, of course, an opportunity to shock us with the makeup he designed for the deformed Phantom. Phantom might have been the greatest vehicle for him, even if it’s not his best movie. But even if the film weren’t importantly historically, with one of the first moments of moving technicolor (rather than hand-tinted film), it allows us to watch Chaney in all his sympathetic, oddball glory. The film has a complicated history, including a frosty reception upon its first (and second release). It was heartening to see both showings had sold out. The Cathedral is an attraction in itself, and it’s hard to imagine a more appropriate place to see the 90-year-old gothic classic. What I’m trying to tell you is that on Halloween, I had the privilege not only of watching Lon Chaney’s Phantom of the Opera, but of watching it in Grace Cathedral Church, with live organ accompaniment. 2015 was my first year back, after an absence of about 15 years-really, I find it’s best not to count any more. The Bay Area’s economy may suck, but it can still be an amazing place to be if you love films (and can afford the occasional pricey event).
I have a question – what is this thing on my head? (still from )
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