The Phantom Of The Opera. Again

[apolla]

So, I watched The Phantom of the Opera again this morning. This is not especially surprising, although I've only watched it twice since getting the DVD at the beginning of the month.

Anyway, I've come to realise that there is a perfect moment in this particular picture. I mean perfect in the way that in just one moment, the entire film is crystallised and it is beautiful. In this case, it comes only eighteen or nineteen minutes into the whole shebang. What is this moment, I hear you cry, that has me so entranced and impressed? A hitherto unnoticed Phantom/bath/rubber duckie moment? I wish, I do wish. A hithero unnoticed Phantom/Raoul slashfest? Fortunately not.

No, this is much more beautiful than either of those two possibilities. Eighteen minutes into the film, Christine Daae is up on stage in all her finery, singing her pretty little heart out. 'Think Of Me', I believe it's called. She's making the very most of her 42nd Street Ruby Keeler moment, enchanting all around her in the opulent opera house. Then, the camera swoops down, through the many basement levels of the opera house until it reaches a dark, dank, mouldy old cellar. There stands a shadow of a man, listening intently. And man, doesn't it just sum the whole damn thing up? He creates it all (literally, if you go by the book- he built it all) and is forced to listen from afar, to admire from afar and to be forever in the shadows. Then we cut to a boring, cardboard cutout of a twelve year old brat intent on spoiling even this unsatisfactory arrangement.

But as cinematic moments go, it's pretty fantastic.