Not Another Chandelier . . .

Okay, so I’ve finally decided to put into words exactly why I can’t stand that they changed when the chandelier falls in Phantom of the Opera.

No, it’s not purely because I’m a perfectionist for the play.  This is actually something apart from that.

You see, the play starts with Christine being enthralled by the Phantom.  He’s this mysterious almost spirit who has helped her to become a much better singer than she probably ever imagined.  But of course, human curiosity gets in the way, and Christine wants this Angel of Music to reveal himself to her.  And human emotion gets in the way where the Phantom is concerned, thanks to his obsession with her, so he shows himself and takes her to his lair.  He wants her to become a part of his world, leaving her own behind.  (And I’m sorry, but it was just stupid that Meg found that the mirror moved, and started going down the tunnel.  I mean, come on.  There’s an entire legend of an Opera Ghost, and they have her find that and she doesn’t say anything to anyone?  Come on…)

Anyway.  While down in his lair, she takes off his mask, and sees his temper, his rage at her action.  For the first time, Christine is afraid of her Angel of Music.

And already, he’d had a fairly controlling hand on her.  She said it herself to Raoul.  “The Angel of Music is very strict.”  He wasn’t strict because it was necessary to her training as a singer, though.  He was putting her through that discipline because he wanted her to himself, and through his own obsessive madness, was slowly driving her to insanity.  The entire song of Music of the Night shows that point rather clearly.  “Turn your face away, from the garish light of day.  Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light…”  It’s all about enticing her away from the light, away from the public eye, away from sanity.  He had no chance of joining her world, because as he said during the finale, “Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere, no kind word from anyone, no compassion anywhere…”  He had no choice but to make Christine come to him and to make her think that she wanted it as well.

Yet, she shows something of a spine after she realizes that Bouquet has been killed and it must have been the Phantom.  She realizes that this isn’t someone entirely sane, and that they were dealing with a man who would go to extraordinary lengths to get what he wanted.  Case in point: “And if he has to kill a thousand men, the Phantom of the Opera will kill, and kill again.”

Still, she and Raoul profess their love for one another during All I Ask Of You and it gives her some measure of security.  A sense of protection, that Raoul will chase away the shadows.  But of course, the Phantom is there and overhears their proclaimations of love.  He’s overcome by grief, and in that grief, sends the chandelier crashing down.  I believe it was something of a warning to Christine and Raoul.  Basically saying that he’s not beaten yet.

While in the movie, there was only one line to change that related to the chandelier falling, they took out the section where at least two other lines were sung.  For the movie, they changed Andre’s line during Masquerade, “And a new chandelier,” as well as taking out what the Phantom should have sung when he appeared at the Masquerade.  “I advise you to comply, my instructions should be clear.  Remember there are worse things than a shattered chandelier.”  As well as the second note segment, completely cut from the movie, where Andre and Firmin are going back and forth, and one of them says, “Not another chandelier…”

I don’t feel that the Phantom still gave Christine any sort of warning by what he did to Carlotta’s voice.  Yes, of course Chrstine was aware that it was him who did it, but it wasn’t anything specifically to do with her.  It was a warning to Carlotta, and to Andre and Firmin.  The Phantom had said that Carlotta should play the silent role but of course, she’s the diva and Ande and Firmin wanted to make her happy, so they put Christine in the silent role.  Yes, of course Christine was aware who did it, but the Phantom did it as an outright threat to Carlotta, Andre, and Firmin, to not disobey his orders again.

That’s why I don’t buy that Christine already feared the Phantom enough.  In the play, she is literally driven to the edge of sanity.  I mean, “What I once used to dream, I now dread, if he finds me it won’t ever end.  And he’ll always be there singing songs in my head.  He’ll always be there, singing songs in my head…”??  That’s during the second letter sequence in the play, during the second act.  And as she’s finishing that line, Carlotta murmurs, “She’s mad…”  For once, she’s right.  Christine is mad.  And she’s been driven to this by the Phantom.  A man who would forbid her to see other men, calling it a betrayal to her Angel of Music.  A man who would coax her away from the light, away from the surface world, and down into his, a world literally full of torture and misery.  One of the subtle climaxes in the play is a simple question.  Will the Phantom succeed?  Will he drive her as insane as he is?  Will she remain with him at the cost of everything she claimed to love above the catacombs beneath the opera house?

She wasn’t driven insane in the movie.  Plain and simple.  She was still as innocent and trustworthy, heck maybe even moreso than in the play.  And considering it’s possible they portrayed her as more innocent and trusting, I don’t know how they didn’t show a descent into madness, but it wasn’t there.  The chandelier was the biggest thing that forged the line.  It was a huge catastrophic event and it took them six months to recover.  Now, why would the Phantom do that?  Hmm…  Maybe he wanted six months of peace and quiet down in his lair to be able to complete the score of Don Juan Triumphant.  He wanted Christine as his lead.  He’d started establishing her voice as a diva’s in that opera house.  But how could he complete a score when he was playing his parlor tricks on Andre and Firmin to intimidate them?  He had no peace there.  And he wouldn’t as long as there were operas to perform whre Andre and Firmin would place Carlotta as a lead to cater to her.  So, he caused an event that intimidated Christine and drew that line for her sanity, as well as causing the opera house to need repairs and whatnot so that they had to close down.

Yes, I can give Shannon that a chandelier that big would have made a bigger impact than what they showed in the play, but also, if it had made as big an impact as the movie led to believe, then there wouldn’t be any “chandelier in pieces” to reassemble.  Not to mention that this is the Phantom we’re talking about here.  Cons

idering everything else he did, are you telling me that he couldn’t have rigged up something where the chandelier had a specifc path, or better yet, specific speed that it would fall?  Coupled with everythig else he accomplished, and things that the books talk about him pulling of in his past, there is no doubt in my mind that the Phantom could have brought down the chandelier on a specific path, and with a close estimation of how much damage it would do.

In the play, yes, he set it crashing down in his maddened grief, but it was also a planned event.  “So, it is to be war between us!  If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imaginations will occur!”  He knew what he was doing when he sent the chandelier down in the play.  Yes, I believe that he planned it in the movie, but it was more sloppily planned.  It didn’t have the same finesse as all of his other “accidents” and purposeful tricks.

I don’t buy the whole thing of putting all the climaxes at the end for movie audiences, just because of the simple fact that there are so many movies that have multiples climaxes.  I mean, in West Side Story are they gonna change when Riff and Bernardo were killed?  In the Secret Garden, are they gonna change when Mary finds the key, or the door to the locked garden?

Yes, the biggest climax should be at the end of the movie, but frankly, it gets boring when the entire movie is just a build-up to the one big event at the end.  That’s what the original Two Towers is.  It’s a movie that starts out as obviously the continuation to Fellowship, but also it’s an entire build-up to the battles that take place at the end.  Merry and Pippin are with Treebeard, and there’s the build-up to whether the Ents will fight.  Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas are at Helm’s Deep with Theoden and everyone else, knowing that a battle is coming to them.  Gandalf has gone off to find Eomer, and it’s a question of will he return toHelm’s Deep in time.  Frodo and Sam have been captured by Faramir, who wants to take them to Gondor, so that Gondor may have the One Ring.  The entire movie is one big build-up to the climaxes of the different characters at the end.  And in some ways, it’s a let down.  Because after building up so much and seeing the battle, the end in some ways just tapers off.  Two Towers picked a good place to end, and was able to mostly get away from the taper-off ending, but other movies don’t.

I know that movies are almost never truly ‘true to life,’ but they are supposed to try.  That’s my other point.  A person’s life doesn’t come in one huge build-up and crash.  We’re constantly pulling back and crashing against the rocks in our lives, constantly having situations that reach a high point, etc.  And just like our lives, movies should have the smaller climaxes that lead to bigger events throughout.  Because, if you wouldn’t change when Mary found the door, or when Riff and Bernardo were killed, then you shouldn’t change when the chandelier falls.  It’s the same principle.  Each of those events forges a line for whichever particular character.  You take out that line, and it throws off the entire rest of the show.

Oh.  Where I was going when I mentioned Christine’s waning sanity is here: In the end, she did, I feel, thoroughly lose her mind in some fashion.  Because in some way, in some dark corner of her mind that overtook her for brief moments, she did fall in love with the Phantom.  She went to him and she kissed him.  There was nothing fake, no lie, in her kiss.  The Phantom had succeeded.  And I think, of any climax one can say exists in Phantom, that is the most powerful one.  Knowing that the Phantom knows he succeeded . . . but that he can’t bring Christne with him.

Okay, I *think* that’s everything.  Rest assured, if it isn’t, I will write on this again.