107 of the Opera chronicles the strange love triangle between Christine Daeé, an aspiring actress; Raol, the Vimconte de Chagny; and a reclusive, deformed, and brilliant musician/ inventor/magician who lurks in the bowels of the Paris Opera, known at first as Christine’s “Angel of Music”—as he has been mentoring her in the ways of the opera—then as the “Phantom.” As Christine and Raol grow closer, the lovers, as well as the cast, crew, and proprietors of the opera house. The situation escalates when the Phantom begins to pick off various supporting cast members, and the show culminates in the Phantom holding Raol’s life in his hands, and telling Christine that the only way to save her love is to stay with him… forever. She kisses him passionately, tells him he is not alone, and somehow this kindness is enough for the Phantom to let her and Raol go, and subsequently disappear.) Immediately I am delighted by the amateurish nature of the production. Voices off-key, ill-fitting costumes, abysmal choreography, all make (for me) an evening of enchantment. I let myself slip into the warm, glittering, tangy pool of camp that has become my preferred destination when watching performances such as these. In addition, I had never seen Phantom of the Opera before, so I was treated with the added bonus of a trite, blustery, melodramatic plotline, insipid characterizations, the retreat of all novelty. Begrudgingly, I had to admit that this production of Phantom was better than I had expected. I even found myself enjoying some of the numbers. And the performances were halfway decent, though I was pleasantly incensed by the horrid work of one young junior cast in the role of Raol, the young male love interest of Christina. Every entrance and
SETH STEWART
Phantom grows more tempestuous, terrorizing the two