The Phantom’s Long Career in Motion Pictures

With all the hoopla surrounding the arrival of “The Phantom of the Opera,” it’s worth recalling that Gaston Leroux’s 1911 novel has had numerous screen incarnations, starting with the 1925 Lon Chaney silent film.

There’s the lush 1943 Technicolor version; a forgettable 1962 English version made by Hammer, the low-budget horror specialists; a sumptuous, if highly reworked, 1983 TV movie shot in Hungary; and a 1987 Chinese version.

Then there have been such variations on the story as the wonderfully bizarre yet poignant 1937 Chinese film “The Midnight Song”; a 1974 TV movie called “Phantom of Hollywood” with Jack Cassidy as a disfigured, crazed old actor dislodged by the bulldozing of a studio, and Brian De Palma’s zany and inspired 1974 “Phantom of the Paradise.” The latest version, filmed in Budapest, is due in late summer, starring Robert Englund (Freddie Krueger of “Friday the 13th” films) and Jill Schoelen.

The two “Phantoms” with which most people are familiar are the 1925 and the 1943. Seen side by side--they’re both available on videocassette--they both remain enjoyable. Neither is true to the source, and a comparison of the two demonstrates how very different are the demands of silent and sound.

The 1925 silent, directed by Rupert Julian, reportedly was much tampered with in postproduction. Its story is pared down in the extreme. The amazing thing is how little this matters because the original “Phantom” with its potent Beauty-and-the Beast motif works so well visually. With its stunning play of light and shadow, especially amid art director Ben Carre’s dramatic catacomb sets, it doesn’t matter very much what the Phantom’s history really is.

All that’s important is that this tormented masked man (Chaney), who has a lair across the Opera’s subterranean lake (which exists to this day), has fallen in love with Christine Daae (Mary Philbin), a member of the chorus, and, via notes, promises to make her a star.

Significantly, her big chance will be as Marguerite in “Faust,” and she doesn’t hesitate to reject her aristocratic suitor (Norman Kerry) as part of her bargain with the Phantom. His subsequent kidnaping of Christine and her inability to resist snatching off his mask come quite early in the film.

“More opera than Phantom” is the way the 1943 version is often unfairly dismissed. Actually, Claude Rains is a heartbreaking phantom, a middle-aged violinist at the Opera who has secretly been paying for the singing lessons of Christine (Susanna Foster) when his life is abruptly shattered and his face ruined by a tray of etching acid thrown at him in an unscrupulous music publisher’s office. Rains’ Phantom is as carefully motivated as Chaney’s is not.

Although a richly detailed period production directed with panache by Arthur Lubin, the 1943 “Phantom” was nevertheless made under wartime restrictions, which is probably the reason why the elaborate Masked Ball, which the Chaney’s Phantom attended as the Red Death, was not duplicated and the eerie underground sequences skimped. (Lubin was able to use the 1925 set of the Opera Auditorium, which still stands on Stage 28.)

Similarly, since most young Hollywood actors were in service, Christine’s suitors are middle-aged; they are the opera’s star baritone (Nelson Eddy) and an officer of the Surete (Edgar Barrier). Eddy is dignified, but Barrier is hopelessly hammy.

Wisely, the Phantom’s unmasking serves as the film’s climax, and Rains’ scarring is as horrifying as it was 40 years ago because it is so very realistic, thanks to the skills of legendary makeup artist Jack Pierce. Anyone whoever saw either “Phantom” at an impressionable age is likely to cherish the experience forever--even if it did result in some nightmares.