My Elena. Now I have my Elena again. I always knew I would find her again. We will work together with her. Her triumph will be my revenge.

-- Sandor Korvin

If you see him again, he will die. If you see any other man, he will die. You will be with me forever.

-- Sandor Korvin

I know all about Opera Ghosts. Every opera house has at least one. Whenever a tenor splits his trousers or a soprano goes off key it's the Opera Ghost again! Paris, Milan -- even Covent Garden has it's ghosts. I hope you too are not going to find a supernatural reason for your mistakes. Goodnight, Miss Gianelli.

-- Hartnell

Are you cold? I thought you might be with all that naked ambition showing.

-- Hartnell (to Maria)

I might be ambitious, but I won't go to bed with a man just to further my career. It's too hard to vocalise lying down.

-- Maria Gianelli

Isn't it bad enough that I must sing with a chorus of yelping puppies, that they give me a hideous costume and a wig that looks like ... a wig, and sets that are one hundred years old? But worst of all they import an arrogant English director to abuse me!

-- Madame Bianchi

Swans sing before they die.
T'were not a bad thing if Prima Donnas die before they sing.

-- Sandor Korvin

It took me forever to track this thing down (thanks to Tim Rauser by the way, for sending it to me!) and I am happy to say it was well worth the wait. Snappy dialogue, detailed and lovely costumes, plus a remarkably faithful unmasking scene make this movie a pleasure to view.

Unfortunately this movie does appear to begin an annoying trend (later echoed in the 1989 and 1990 versions) of explaining the Phantom's obsessive love by hinting of reincarnation, or at the very least an overwhelming physical resemblance between our leading lady and a love from the Phantom's past. Here, the Phantom -- Sandor Korvin -- sees in Maria (the Christine character) the spirit of his dead wife Elena, an opera singer who died by suicide after a disasterous debut masterminded by the evil Baron, the Opera manager whose advances she spurned.

This 'Christine-as-substitute' angle always annoys me... I mean, can't a guy get obsessed with a girl for no good reason once in a while, rather than having to resort to the old 'she reminds me of my dead wife/mum/lover' excuse?

Like many of it's predecessors, this movie chooses to explain the Phantom's deformity by way of a horrific accident, when in a scene reminiscent of the 1962 Herbert Lom version, Sandor is set on fire and scarred by acid for good measure while attempting to murder one of the men he considered responsible for the mental anguish which caused his wife to kill herself. Again, much like in the Herbert Lom film, a mysterious sewer-dweller finds the Phantom near death, and assists him in finding refuge in an underground lair deep beneath the Opera.

Some time later, enter Maria Gianelli. Maria appears to be the exact likeness of Elena (no surprise, since both characters are played by Jane Seymour -- TV's Dr. Quinn!) Maria Gianelli is no shrinking violet. Rather than a dainty Scandinavian beauty, Maria is a bold, brassy, tough-as-nails American with a quick wit and a sharp tongue. Maria is certainly more than a match for the reigning diva, Madame Bianchi. The rivalry between these two, and the obviously large ego of Miss Gianelli provides ample opportunity for comic relief. Sandor begins to tutor Maria in the hopes that she can succeed in the career that his wife was denied.

The story progresses much as expected from there. Sandor continues to exact revenge upon those whom he still holds a grudge against. He murders, maims and terrorizes, all in the name of Elena (or is it Maria? Sandor doesn't seem to know the difference -- he believes they are one and the same).

The Raoul this time is Hartnell, the English director of the Opera who is fired when he defends Maria from the same lecherous Baron who caused Elena's demise. Hartnell's courtship of Maria allows for some of the more sassy feminist dialogue, including a particularly well executed line where Maria archly informs him that "In most great operas, the virgins have the worst parts". One can infer that Maria is hardly the typical Victorian prude! Although some might take issue with a Christine of questionable virtue, I found Jane Seymour's Maria quite refreshing.

In a climax similar to that of the 1962 film, Sandor is eventually killed when he leaps upon the falling chandelier he has set in motion to destroy his nemesis, the Baron -- barely missing Maria in the process. One presumes that Maria and Hartnell will now be free to live happily ever after.

It should be noted that this film provides one of the most faithful unmasking sequences on record. Schell borrows dialogue taken straight from Leroux ("Feast your eyes, glut your soul etc...") and most remarkably continues on, dragging a terrified Maria's fingertips over his ravaged face in a scene from Leroux never previously put on film. The unmasking is chilling in it's intensity. Interestingly enough, in this scene Schell also wears one of the very masks Leroux described -- a mask that makes him look "like anyone else" rather than the ghoulish white or black visage which often solely characterises the Phantom.

If for no other reasons, check out this movie for the strength of the unmasking scene and an amusing performance by Jane Seymour as the feisty Maria.

--robyn

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