Based on Gaston Leroux’s horror novel, The Phantom of the Opera tells the enticing story of a disfigured Phantom who haunts the depths of The Paris Opera House. Mesmerized by the talents and beauty of the young soprano Christine, The Phantom lures her as his protégé and falls fiercely in love with her. The Phantom's obsession sets the scene for a dramatic turn of events where jealousy, madness and passions collide. Audiences are in for a thrilling night of spectacle and romance, accompanied by Broadway’s most unforgettable score by Andrew Lloyd Webber, including "Music of the Night," "All I Ask of You," and "Masquerade." Directed by the late Harold Prince and produced by Cameron Mackintosh and The Really Useful Group, the musical opened on Broadway on January 26, 1988. It won seven Tony Awards, including Best Musical, and became the longest-running show in Broadway history on January 9, 2006.
It may be possible to have a terrible time at 'The Phantom of the Opera,' but you'll have to work at it. Only a terminal prig would let the avalanche of pre-opening publicity poison his enjoyment of this show, which usually wants nothing more than to shower the audience with fantasy and fun, and which often succeeds, at any price. It would be equally ludicrous, however - and an invitation to severe disappointment - to let the hype kindle the hope that 'Phantom' is a credible heir to the Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals that haunt both Andrew Lloyd Webber's creative aspirations and the Majestic Theater as persistently as the evening's title character does. What one finds instead is a characteristic Lloyd Webber project - long on pop professionalism and melody, impoverished of artistic personality and passion - that the director Harold Prince, the designer Maria Bjornson and the mesmerizing actor Michael Crawford have elevated quite literally to the roof. 'The Phantom of the Opera' is as much a victory of dynamic stagecraft over musical kitsch as it is a triumph of merchandising uber alles.
In the end, The Phantom of the Opera can be no more than the sum of its pictorial effects. It's no opera (not with those bland melodies, not with lyric phrases like 'Be My Guest' and 'Make My Night'), it's not a display case of serious acting, it's not humor (not even self-mockery). It's pyschologically lightweight, long on melodramatic grotesquerie, and it can only on its visual chills. Will three chills, plus candles that swarm like fireflies, do you?
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