The Phantom of the Opera

One can only assume Cameron Mackintosh grew up idolizing Cher when he decided to revamp The Phantom of the Opera after its supposed farewell tour in 2010. All I can say is, thank God for comebacks.

Mackintosh found the perfect balance between revitalizing Broadway’s longest-running musical while still maintaining its’ hauntingly beautiful integrity with new scenery, never-before-seen Bjorson designs, and a larger Phantom presence on-stage. Even the infamous falling chandelier received a makeover by none other than Howard Eaton, the man behind the fiery Olympic rings in London in 2012. As only a true theatre expert could manage, Mackintosh kept the props on stage to a minimum, leaving no room for distraction from where the spotlight truly belonged: his cast.

When the Phantom first appeared on stage, a chill slowly tiptoed down my spine. Despite his opaque mask, his tormented disposition resonated throughout the theatre.  Simply standing there, he was the most commanding of all matadors who did indeed, “catch you with his magical lasso.” In that moment, I had no doubt he could have executed a tango worthy of turning Pablo Repun green with envy. With a thunderous voice to follow, Cooper Grodin provided a stark contrast to his co-star, Grace Morgan.  Morgan, who played Christine Daae had the smoothest of voices like a newly uncorked, butter-y Chardonnay. Their vocally flawless duet, “The Phantom of the Opera” especially stirred a range of emotions from anguish to self-loathing, from loneliness to longing, from uncertainty to forbidden desire.

 Like their voices, the two were juxtaposed together on stage creating seamless edges. Even in the most ominous of scenes, you could almost see the rope tying the two together as he tugged and she pulled. “Pitiful creature of darkness,” Christine cooed as they stood in the dark, foggy cemetery with a dim light shining from behind an Apollo statue, symbolizing her role in his life. The two together on stage left the audience utterly breathless from the overwhelming emotions that were not spoken but felt. Accomplishing this feat was worthy of a standing ovation on its own.

“He murders all that is good,” Carlotta, played by Jacquelynne Fontaine, venomously spat as she stood in what I can only describe as the 80’s version of the red-room-of-pain complete with hideous blue carpet.  Pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, Fontaine played the scorned prima donna masterfully. Although her faux accent came across as forced at times, her fine-tuned shrill of a voice allowed for touches of humor as she berated those around her believing, "Gossips worth its weight in gold." Once she began to sing she proved the mantra there are no small parts, just small actors, as her voice was the reincarnation of Bizet’s muse for Carmen.

Although there were many enthralling details from the simplistic stage design, to the shocking pyrotechnics, to the blinding crystal chandelier, to the beautifully supportive orchestra, to the surprise twist at the end, it was the talent on the stage that refreshed this tragic love story. The connection between the actors revived the classic tale after going five minutes without a pulse, their voices made the songs sound as new as a chick ling in mid-hatch, and the emotions were conveyed so organically that it physically caused the audiences to mirror their own. Even the most transparent of ghosts will find themselves teary-eyed  within the first few bars of “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again.”

Bravo Mackintosh, bravo.