emmy rossum phantom of the opera real voice

When psychological logic fails, there's always caricature, and when dramatic logic fails, there's always cliche.

So the whole thing feels breathless and exhilarating, even if, at the end, one can't be sure why any of these characters gathered in this place - an opera house in Paris in the 1870s - and persisted in the various amours and ambitions that bind them together. And when Lloyd Webber's score grows particularly repetitive, the camera steps discreetly into the void, supplying visual momentum when musical momentum falters. But there's the ever-loving camera, emphasizing not her singing but the response of others to the music, so we love her through them, and forgive a voice that would be laughed out of a real opera house. It apologizes for the fact that when Rossum's character, the ingenue soprano Christine, gets her first big break, she doesn't actually produce very good music. In a dazzling ballroom scene that marks their betrothal, the camera swirls around them, supplying the moves that, in a real movie musical, would be danced by the cast. It apologizes, for instance, for Patrick Wilson and Emmy Rossum, who, as the dashing leads, can't or won't dance.

Perhaps it's because the camera is the ultimate apologist. It's gorgeous nonsense to look at, and in director Joel Schumacher's hands, 'Phantom' emerges as one of those queer works of art that actually improve somehow as they get tackier and more removed from the original. anger? - leads almost instantly to a metaphysical logjam.įortunately, the movie version of Lloyd Webber's smash hit does to the music what the music did to the words and story: It distracts the mind and cajoles the eyes to the point that one doesn't really care that everything the ears are hearing is pure nonsense. Certainly not on the philosophical level, where any attempt to reduce it to an intelligible conflict - art vs. And the plot of this drastic adaptation of Gaston Leroux's 1911 novel, about a soprano seduced by a murderous genius who lives beneath the Paris Opera, simply makes no sense. When words are set willy-nilly to repetitive music, you don't pay much attention to them - this can be a blessing - and if you're not paying attention to the words, then you can't scrutinize the plot. There wasn't a lot of actual music in Andrew Lloyd Webber's 1986 musical 'The Phantom of the Opera.' A handful of maddeningly catchy tunes did triple and quadruple duty, suggesting often contradictory emotions: love and malevolence, resolution and anxiety.

Emmy rossum phantom of the opera real voice