Lavish doesn't even begin to describe Joel Schumacher's The Phantom of the Opera, the $100million version of Andrew Lloyd Webber's stage production. Unfortunately, beyond mere aesthetics, unless you have an overwhelming affection for the stage musicals, there's not an awful lot to recommend here. Schumacher sticks close to the blueprint when it comes to the plot: Christine (Rossum) is a talented but overlooked chorus girl at the Opera Populaire. When the tempestuous diva La Carlotta (Driver) disappears after another hissy fit, Christine is thrown into the limelight. What she's unaware of, however, is that her meteoric rise has been manufactured by the Phantom (Butler), a disfigured musician who lives in the - oh yes! - opera house. So far, so swinging. But when Christine's affections look to be claimed by a suitor (Wilson), the Phantom isn't best pleased.
Its central tenant of obsessive love may have seemed ripe for cinematic translation, but Schumacher's film fails to adequately express the emotional quandary at the heart of The Phantom of the Opera. His reproduction of the mechanics of the stage musical appear to be accurate and the production design is quite something, but he fails to appreciate that a simple translation doesn't always suffice. Lacking a sense of adventure, Schumacher is content to simply aim for a facsimile rather than offering a fresh perspective on a story as old as love itself.
