Battle of the Brave

    

Year:  2004

Filming:  Color

Length:  143 minutes

Genre:  Drama/History/Romance/War

Maturity:  PG-13 (for intense thematic elements, language, and some sexuality)

Cast:  Noemie Godin-Vigneau (Marie-Loup Carignan), David la Haye (Francois la Gardeur), Juliette Gosselin (France Carignan), Sebastian Huberdeau (Xavier Maillard), Bianca Gervais (Acoona), Gerard Depardieu (Fr. Thomas Blondeu), Tim Roth (William Pitt), Jason Isaacs (General James Wolfe), Michael Maloney (Governor James Murray), Philippe Dormoy (Voltaire)

         

Director:  Jean Beaudin

Personal Rating:  2 Stars

***

    One day, while fishing through the period piece section on NetFlix, I stumbled across Battle of the Brave. I sort of had a feeling it wasn't going to be good when I heard it was set during the French and Indian War (how could Hollywood keep from going on a splurge about evil Europeans and stuffy decorum?), but I wanted to see anyway. I’m not above being surprised by an unexpectedly good film. But my intuition proved more than correct this time, although I will admit I was surprised…by the blatant differences between the plot-line as outlined in the advertisements and how it played out in the actual production!    

    What story there is opens in Colonial French Canada, not long before the British conquest of Quebec in 1759. A young French nobleman named Francois la Gardeur has just returned from a trapping venture in the wilderness, a journey he had embarked upon to distance himself from his upper-class roots. Seeking out amour in Quebec, he rekindles an affair with a fellow nobleman’s wife, but at the same time finds himself bewitched by a beautiful and independent-minded young widow and single mother named Marie-Loup Carignan, who has learned to be a healer in the Native American tradition, and is accused of practicing dark magic.

    Meanwhile, sinister historical forces are at work. The French government in Canada is riddled through with corruption, and willing to let Quebec fall to the British to prevent an inquiry into their conduct. It is up to our wild-haired hero Francois to warn the French government about the plot, but the local authorities will stop at nothing to silence him. Throw Fr. Thomas Blondeau, a Catholic priest who is sort-of-good in that he wants to defend the poor from the desperation of a crumbling regime and the rapine of an ascending one, and yet is having sexual affairs and has this secret love for would-be witch-woman...and the whole thing degenerates into a confusing mess!

    Our noble messenger to the court of France sends a message to his lover, asking her to accompany him. But the priest, for motives that are a bit complex, mistranslated the message to keep her from going with him. This strikes off a chain reaction of unintended events…none of which are directly related to the war, nor the fact that Quebec falls to the British, without even enough production courtesy to show us the epic-ness of the Battle of the Plains of Abraham! Gah! But to summarize: “our hero” has a heart-to-heart chat with philosopher Voltaire, but fails to get an audience at the decadent court of France until after the British invasion is completed, and returns to discover that beloved witch-woman has gotten herself hitched to a his less-than-upstanding-former-friend-turned-British-lackey.

     But never fear…Gallic Lover Boy is here! Actually, cancel that…we should fear, because it doesn’t seem he has any definite plan, and one he tries to launch to rescue his lady-love from her abusive husband backfires miserably. Ultimately, deadbeat hubby has an unfortunate collision with an axe, but no one is sure who administered the fatal blow. Marie-Loup gets arrested and framed for her husband’s murder, which everyone is content to let lie since she is already a social outcast. At this point, the two main men in her life – Francois and Fr. Blondeau – try to “save her” in different ways. The former makes a vain attempt to plead mercy before the new British Governor James Murray, and the second tries to give her absolution for the murder, which she refuses. It will only be at the end of the old man’s life when the truth will be revealed and the mysterious case laid to rest with Mary-Loup.

     This film had some artistic pluses in the form of beautiful cinematography and a lush music score. It gave a good feel of the Colonial era of sprawling forests and Old World settlements, inhabited by a mix of different races struggling for survival and domination. The acting was fair enough, and the relationship between Mary-Loup and her little daughter France was touchingly rendered. Also, some of the romantic interplay between Francois and Mary-Loup was worth salvaging, even though their overall romance was pretty lame. David la Haye and Noemie Godin-Vigneau seemed to have good on-screen chemistry, and they have a talent for conveying emotions through facial expressions. And I will admit this much: the leading lady has amazingly bewitching eyes!

     But in spite of these perks, the story was a horrible miss-match of themes and plot threads that failed to coalesce into any definite vision. It is permeated with modern sentiment jet-lagged into a past time period, with Francois and Mary-Loup serving as symbolic of liberalism and modernity as opposed to the narrow-minded, old-fashioned, and corrupt characters that surround and ultimately destroy them. In this sense, the whole story takes on the visage of a morality play, even though the morals are foggy at best.

      It is not by accident that we see Francois “connect” with the ultimate liberal, Voltaire, after his repeated efforts to shake off his noble heritage which is portrayed as being corrupt overall. Needless to say, there certainly was corruption in the nobility, particularly among the French Colonial ruling class in Quebec. But portraying the upper classes as “all bad” just doesn’t do them justice. I would have liked to meet the Marquis de Montcalm, the epitome of a French gentleman, dedicated to honor, duty, and his country. So while we can sympathize with Francois’ issues to some extent, the movie fails to portray the pros-and-cons of the class system with balance.

    Likewise, we can certainly sympathize with the more open and curious ways of Mary-Loup, and her willingness to learn the ways of the Native Americans through her friendship with the Indian girl, Acoona. But trying to make almost everyone else around her into 2-dimnsional villains fails to appreciate their own perspectives, and the “comfortableness” these characters would have had holding these beliefs in their own time periods. Plus, Mary-Loup does seem to be a bit “loose in love”, so to speak, and has adapted some of the superstitious practices associated with witch-craft, so even a few eye-brows raise, it’s not a huge wonder. And of course, there has to be a priest struggling with his vow of celibacy, in a kind of creepy way…I mean, isn’t he old enough to be Mary-Loup’s father? Weird.

    Not only do the characters feel strangely out of place in their respective era, but Battle of the Brave doesn’t even live up to its own advertisement as a flick about French resistance fighters battling for “freedom.” Literally, on the cover there are three indicative words: “Rise. Unite. Fight.” But none of this ever comes about. There are no resistance fighters, and there is no battle! The war, which is supposed to be so central to the plot, is skipped through with nothing more than a shelling sequence, which kills a side character but does not influence the central plot. Instead, the story-line is totally hinged on the love affair, which reaches a dead-end and fails to support the movie with needed substance.

     On an historical note, we do get to make a brief foray made into the British establishment, whence we get to meet Tim Roth (infamous for his role as Archie-the-Villain in Rob Roy) as William Pitt (no! no!!!) and a totally-too-old, totally-too-deranged Jason Isaacs (infamous for his role as Tavington-the-Villain in The Patriot!) as General James Wolfe (Say what???!!!) who fails to do anything impressive but rant about wildly and mutter poetry with a weird gleam in his eye. These blatant miscasts can be accurately classified as nothing more than a generic British villains convention, to purposely purport a politically correct and historically incorrect depiction of The French and Indian War.

    As someone who has spent more than a few years studying Wolfe and pouring over his personal letters, I was particularly frustrated to death by this obtuse portrayal. I understand that the film may have been trying to paraphrase an incident in which Wolfe, slightly inebriated and out-of-character, is said to have bragged about what he would accomplish in America, and pounded his sword hilt on the table in front of Pitt. But the way it came off was that he was always behaving like a nut, and everything he did was viewed as off-beat by those around him, including poetic recitation. This fails to explain why the legend of Wolfe has been such an inspiration to fighting men for generations.

    Wolfe was certainly a very complex character, who could often be judgmental and sometimes quite brutal. He also might have seemed a bit “manic” every once in a while. But this is only one side of the coin. A reading of his letters and the testimony of contemporaries also show him to also have had many attractive qualities, and was not some chronic maniac. He was deeply philosophical, had a marvelously witty sense of humor, and a profound sense of duty to his country and the men under his command. His soldiers adored him, and found his eccentricities inspirational, including his love of quoting poetry. Furthermore, memorization of poetry was much more common in the 18^th century than it is now, and wouldn’t have even been considered as outlandish as it might be today.

     The film also messed up the character of British governor James Murray, who is portrayed as being unscrupulous and willing to have Mary-Loup executed even though he has proof she is innocent of the murder of her husband. He doesn’t want to risk putting his job in danger by angering those who are stuck in the “dark ages” and opposed to modernistic Mary-Loup. First off, they got his accent wrong: He was Scottish, not English. Second, portraying him as a fall-back villain is character assassination, unless they have some sort of proof he actually behaved in this manner. Historically, the worse thing that can be said of him was that he was jealous of General Wolfe and gave him a hard time, but as governor of Quebec, he was known for being fairly compassionate to the plight of the inhabitants and proved himself to be an able and just administrator.

     Basically, the history buff and story-lover in me was deeply disappointed by this goofed-up attempt to bring The French and Indian War to life on screen. With a predominately French cast and crew, I knew the chances of them being fair to the British were slim. But they even missed out on giving the French their proper due by getting hung up in too many soap-opera-esque love affairs and an obscure moral tags about the blessings of modernity, and the ill-fated consequences of intolerance, which is viewed as the ultimate evil in our modern age. I’m certainly not advocating it, but I think there are other vices to be brought to the fore as well, some perhaps not so politically correct…like character assassination in big-budget historical butcheries!

    I’m afraid that I must make fanfare of tossing Battle of the Brave into the ceremonial fibrotic fire-pit with its kith and kin on the death-row shelf:  The Last of the Mohicans, Titanic, The Patriot, Braveheart, Rob Roy, etc.! Judging from this illustrious accumulation of painful productions, I’d say it’s about time to have a smores fest! If I’m sarcastically harping on this subject too much for my educated readership, please bare with me. I really must write about how messed up I feel Hollywood is getting with these historical "epics", for my own sanity, and perhaps to better the planet. Perhaps it will rouse the masses to demand better fare...or something! Every little voice helps.

Francois la Gardeur (David la Haye) rides with Mary-Loup Carignan ( Noemie Godin-Vigneau)

The Scarlet Pimpernel

Year:  1982 

Filming:  Color 

Length:  142 minutes 

Genre:  Action/Drama/Romance 

Maturity:  PG (for mild language and sexual innuendos)

Cast:  Anthony Andrews (Sir Percy Blakeney), Jane Seymour (Marguerite St. Just), Sir Ian McKellan (Paul Chauvelin), Malcolm Jamieson (Armande St. Just), Dominic Jephcott (Sir Andrew Ffoulkes), Christopher Villiers (Lord Anthony Dewherst), Denis Lill (Count de Tournay), Ann Firbank (Countess de Tournay), Tracey Childs (Suzanne de Tournay), Richard Charles (The Dauphin), Julian Fellowes (The Prince Regent)

Director:  Clive Donner 

Personal Rating:  4 Stars 

***

    I first read Baroness Orczy’s The Scarlet Pimpernel in grade-school, and for a girl with my imagination and love of romantic historical adventures, I found the concept exhilarating. After all, this was the prototype of the all the swashbuckling heroes with dual identities, from Zorro to Superman. But instead of the Colonial Southwest or the bustling Metropolis, this one was planted firmly in the old world and commuted between the historical rivals, England and France. Just my style, and obviously I’m not the only one who thought so since quite a few film adaptations sprung to life. The following film is just such a dramatic endeavor.

    Anthony Andrews stars as Sir Percy Blakeney, English gentleman and seemingly incorrigible fop who most everyone views as a harmless and brainless party animal with a gourmet taste for clothing and travel. However, his sojourns in France reveal another side to his character: that of the Scarlet Pimpernel, daring rescuer of aristocrats condemned to the guillotine by the French Revolutionary government! With an array of disguises at his disposal and a handful of chosen companions at his side, his pursuers are unable to bring him in, and his successes across the channel make him the toast of the table back home in England.

    During one of his missions in France, Percy rescues one Armand St. Just from a severe beating and falls in love with his glamorous sister, Marguerite St. Just, a French actress who is soon drawn to the passion she detects beneath Percy’s sleepy-eyed countenance. But there a slight problem: someone is already courting Marguerite, and it’s none other than Paul Chauvelin, the ruthless agent of the Revolutionary Committee of Public Safety whose greatest aspiration is to capture The Scarlet Pimpernel! In spite of his realization of the danger, Percy persists in his wooing, and charms Marguerite into accepting his proposal of marriage.

     But just a few hours after their marriage in an elegant Catholic ceremony, Percy learns some shocking news that changes everything. Circumstantial evidence indicates that Marguerite betrayed a royalist family to the Republican government, and the entire family was guillotined as a result! The marriage swiftly turns cold, and Percy retreats into his make-believe shell of shallow snobbery, much to Marguerite's confusion and disillusionment. Meanwhile, in his professional life, the Scarlet Pimpernel and his loyal band (now including Armand St. Just) hatch a plan to rescue King Louis XVI's young son. But Chauvelin begins to suspect Sir Percy is more than he seems to be, and travels to England to find out for himself.

     Meeting up with a disgruntled Marguerite, Chauvelin threatens to have her brother Armand arrested for secretly cooperating with The Scarlet Pimpernel unless she will help him hunt down his prey. She has no idea that her husband is the man, and is reluctantly pressured into spying for the French at an elaborate gala including the Prince of Wales among his guests. She passes on bits of information to Chauvelin, but then is overcome with remorse and tries to contact the Pimpernel to warn him. The result is a shocking discovery and climactic finale in a fortress on the rocky French coast.

     I enjoyed this film because it breathed new life into Baroness Orczy’s classic adventure novel series, and ironed out some of the vaguer bits from the book and other movie adaptations without straying too much into the land of revision. I believe the plot filled in some of the gaps in the relationship between Percy and Marguerite and also did a better job illustrating the past relationship between her and Chauvelin. Since this movie did draw from material in both the original book The Scarlet Pimpernel and the third book in the series El Dorado there was certainly a roomier feel.

    It must always be brought to the fore that this is a made-for-TV movie, produced in the ‘80’s, so the artistic quality is what it is. The background music is fits some of the acting in over-dramatic flair. That having been said, the costuming is generally a treat to behold. I love Marguerite’s riding outfit in particular, and all of Percy’s gentleman attire (cravats and all!) are delightful to behold. However, as I have mentioned in past film reviews, I believe Hollywood goes the extra mile with of the low-cut bodice style of the 18th century, trying to heighten sex appeal, which is pretty much a cheap trick to boost ratings through lustful eyes. Another rather unnecessary addition involves Armand’s “sleeping around”, although this is a brief interlude and was found in the third book as part of his character.

     Getting back to the acting, I feel that Anthony Andrews tended to overdo the fop part to the point of being quite obnoxious and rather corny. However, to his credit, he also did an excellent job candidly revealing the passion beneath the exterior in certain scenes. Once such scene was when he suddenly revealed his dual identity to Armand. Another was when he fought to conceal his feelings of disgust from Marguerite after learning of her supposed betrayal on their wedding day. Also, he makes a good “gentleman charmer”, from quipping (“They seek him here, they seek him there…”) to romancing (“You don’t know me now, but you’ll have the rest of your life to find out!), and fencing (can’t help but enjoy watching the final duel, when Percy “defrocks” Chauvelin by cutting the buttons from his coat!).

   

    Jane Seymour managed to “redeem” the character of Marguerite in my opinion (in spite of the hair style that sort of looks like a poodle sitting on her head!). I never really liked her in the book or alternate story adaptations because she was portrayed as selfish and whiney, growing cynical and flippant towards her husband and refusing to contradict the accusation against her to test Percy and see if he would love her even if she had sent that family to their deaths. Percy could not. In this film version, however, Marguerite is a much sweeter and more loving character, who is deeply hurt and confused by Percy’s sudden coldness, and takes for granted that he would believe her to be innocent of such cruelty.

    Furthermore, even though he is disillusioned with her, she never completely gives up on him. She indicates this as they return home from a social function, explaining that she is confused why he should play the fool in private as well as public. He mutters that perhaps this in fact the real Percy after all, but Marguerite retorts that she will never believe that. Also, she never loses her own innate goodness, and even when she is unsure of the Scarlet Pimpernel’s identity, she still makes an effort to warn him about Chauvelin after she was forced to provide him with information. This leads to a deeply romantic scene in which Marguerite speaks with Percy standing behind her in the shadows, not knowing who he is, but sensing something familiar about him. She then tells him that she was innocent of the betrayal, and asks him to lay his hand on her shoulder to assure her that he is real.

    For those who are fans of The Lord of the Rings, the first response upon seeing Ian McKellan playing Paul Chauvelin is: “It’s Gandalf!!!” Of course, recognizing this point might take a few scenes, as he’s quite a bit younger in this flick, but his voice is wonderfully sardonic and his facial structure memorable. And, like his fellow British actors Basil Rathbone and Laurence Olivier, he has the talent of being an equally good villain as he is a hero, and a very fine fencer! (Note: does anyone find is slightly humorous how every single character in this movie, whether they are supposed to be French or English, have proper BBC accents?)

    I definitely think this portrayal of Chauvelin fills him out and explains why Marguerite chose to part company with him, which is refreshing after the vagueness of the book.    Basically, she explains that she has become increasingly aware of the way the revolution had made Chauvelin ruthless and cold-blooded, in contrast to the young idealist she had originally fallen in love with and supported. He has changed beyond recall, to the point of betraying her confidence and maliciously implicating her in the arrest and execution of a royalist family to destroy her marriage to Percy.

    The storyline is definitely from a royalist slant, which fits in with Baroness Orczy’s own experiences as an aristocratic exile who had to flee a revolution in Hungary as a girl. Of course, looking at the broad scope of history, I would have to agree with her that most revolutions do create a domino effect of anarchy followed by a worse tyranny than the original one (chalk it up to fallen human nature…). That having been said, I would definitely put in a good word for many of the original revolutionaries who had justified complaints against the arrogance and folly of the establishment.

    But beyond historical realities, I believe there is something about The Scarlet Pimpernel that taps into our deepest yearnings for romance and adventure, heroism and even an element of hierarchical inequality (who can deny the magic of the monarchy, the mystical hereditary right to reign, even among Americans like us?). As C.S. Lewis once said, all these things are “the tap-root to Eden”, something integral to the human consciousness that set us apart from all living things as story-tellers and yarn-weavers. Also, while Sir Percy Blakeney dedicated to an old-fashioned chivalric honor and enjoys gourmet living, he is willing to risk all the comforts of his life in France and act the part of the insipid fool in England. This lack of recognition is epitomized by the wayside English flower that he uses as his symbol, and stands out poignantly as a symbol for all unsung heroes.  

Sir Percy Blackney (Anthony Andrews) admires Marguerite (Jane Seymour)

The Phantom of the Opera

Year:  2004

Filming:  Color

Length:  143 minutes

Genre:  Drama/Horror/Musical/Romance

Maturity:  PG-13 (for intense thematic elements and some sensuality)

Cast:  Gerard Butler (The Phantom), Emmy Rossum (Christine), Patrick Wilson (Raoul), Miranda Richardson (Madame Giry), Minnie Driver (Carlotta), Jennifer Ellison (Meg Giry), Ciaran Hinds (Firmin), Simon Callow (Andre)

Director: Joel Schumacher

Personal Rating:  3 Stars

***

    While I am not a specialist on musical theatre, two musicals that seem to be regarded as “must-sees” by the popular culture are Le Miserables and The Phantom of the Opera. This film production of the latter, while it occasionally sacrifices vocal expertise for acting ability, does a fair job of bringing to life a haunting tale of unrequited love and driving obsession with impressive special effects.

    Our story opens in a Parisian Opera House in the late 19^th century. The new owners are experiencing some rather unusual difficulties – such as a masked man with a black cape hanging out in their subterranean cellar, demanding that the operas be performed according to his gourmet tastes and that he be paid for his “services”, or else he will sabotage the performances! To make matters worse, he’s exhibiting a particular interest in a young woman in the chorus named Christine and demanding that she be allowed to sing the main parts in the place of the haughty and pampered soprano, Carlotta.

    Unbeknownst to everyone, this gentleman, not-so-fondly referred to as “The Phantom of the Opera”, taught Christine to sing when she was first taken to be a ward of the opera as a little girl after her parents died. Somehow, he manages to do this through a two-way mirror by which he can see her but she can’t see him, and over the years she comes to believe that he is a visiting angel sent by her father to bring out her talent. As Christine grows in grace and beauty, Phantom becomes increasingly obsessed at the prospect of having her.

    When Christine’s childhood sweetheart, Raoul, a wealthy patron of the arts, comes to visit her, Phantom takes a gamble and reveals himself to her and lures her down a secret passage behind the mirror. Then he takes her on board a boat (a touch of Franco-Venetian romance?) and rows her along an underground river to a lake where he has pitched tent. Actually, he seems to have a talent for home-making since the place is really quite cozy with classical décor and some really nice upholstery. But the thing that freaks out Christine is the manikin that looks exactly like her, garbed in a wedding dress!

    Anyway, Phantom tries to express his ardor to Christine through the rather creepy “Music of the Night” solo, but then she pulls off his mask and sees (although the rest of us can’t see) that his face is distorted. Phantom pushes her away and completely falls apart. Christine feels pretty bad, and gives him back the mask. Then he takes her back upstairs and drops her off in her room. The plot basically follows a trend of Phantom trying to press for Christine’s advancement in the music world through devious means, and Raoul trying to “free her” from his possessive grasp that she is unable to break.

    Ultimately, it comes down to a climactic moment when Phantom coerces the opera house to perform one of his operas for Christine to sing. He then knocks off her leading man, and takes his place on stage. And then his mask gets taken off, and the chandelier falls down, and he drags Christine down through the underground tunnels again, with Raoul in hot persuit. And then he nabs “our hero” and threatens to hang him if Christine will not become his lover. So to find out whether she decides to save Raoul and run off with the obsessive masquerade man or tosses Raoul under the bus to be rid of the both of them so she can find a more normal match through online dating…you’ll have to watch the movie!

    Visually, this film version of The Phantom of the Opera is really quite impressive. The general mood is dark and gothic, set against the garishly colorful attire of the opera company and the frightening possibilities behind the world of masks and mirrors. The use of smoke and mists are very spooky, especially the eerie green fog hovering over the underground lake! And who could help but be creeped out by such memorable motifs as the dusty chandelier, the toy monkey, and the single red rose? Elegant and sinister, all at the same time, just like The Phantom himself!

    There are also some wonderful shots of the Paris, capturing the panorama of the magnificent, enchanting, and sometimes terrifying city. One of the my favorite scenes finds Raoul and Christine on the opera house roof overlooking Paris, with ominous stone gargoyles peering over the edges, as snow flurries descend from the cloudy sky. The duet they sing sets off both their voices nicely, and is a comforting break after menacing events inside the gallery. One thing I must mention though: How smart is it for Raoul to pick up Christine and start spinning her around whilst they are on top of a roof?!

    Another memorable scene is the duel between Phantom and Raoul in the cemetery. It’s a fair piece of swordsmanship on both sides, as the two men dodge jutting gray headstones, sparks flying from the clashing weapons. The ground is blanketed with white snow, and Christine’s crimson cape, along with Raoul’s bleeding arm, make a powerful contrast. It is in this scene that Raoul bests the Phantom and is about to run him through, but Christine begs for his life and allows him to escape to haunt them another day.

    But then there are the set-backs. My personal reasons for not being overly enthused are that it falls under the genre of both “musical” and “horror”, two words that I am not overly enthralled by and that do not mix very well in my humble opinion. I am not much of a Broadway person whatsoever, and my favorite musicals are “fun” ones, such as Brigadoon and The Sound of Music. Plus, those movies actually had spoken dialogue to break up all the singing. I have a very hard time sitting through a film where almost the entire script is sung, and have an even harder time taking an intense plot to hear if everyone’s singing during a hanging sequence or something similar!

    There are not actual sexual encounters that take place in this film, although I would venture to say there is a strong current of underlying innuendoes that affect the way the characters often irrationally conduct themselves. Also, quite a few opportunities are sized upon to dress Christine in revealing attire, including something like a belly dancer costume in the opening and a series of gowns with very low bodices! In addition to this, she is sometimes posed in rather alluring positions, such as when she wakes up on the pillows in Phantom’s cellar hideaway.

    One of the reasons I don’t care much for the story as a romance is that so much is left unexplained, and that lack of logic is made up for by some type of all-consuming lust that The Phantom has for Christine, and that Christine evidently has for him, even though she does come to her senses and frees herself from him. Really, there whole relationship is quite creepy and distinctly different from true love against the odds of physical disability and misshapenness. Through the course of the story, not once do Christine and Phantom have a “normal” conversation, nor does she every try to dissuade him from wreaking havoc on those around him, making her extremely guilty of the sin of omission.

    Perhaps if Phantom had a better singing voice in the film, I might buy the theory that Christine was seduced by his sonorous tones. But the fact is that Gerard Butler has a raspy voice that can kindly be described as “earthy” or otherwise simply scratchy to the senses. Don’t get me wrong; the guy is a good actor, but obviously not up to par with Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson in the vocal realm. The problem would crop up in a later musical film, Le Miserables, when casting Russell Crowe in the part of Javert. But at least that character wasn’t supposed to be a great singer; this one was!

    Also, The Phantom’s “hideous face” is not so hideous at all when he finally pulls off the mask in the end. It just looks like he got into some sort of an accident, and the one side of his got burnt. It’s a bit swollen, and certainly might take a little getting used to, but not overtly grotesque. Is this really the reason why he was mistreated as a “devil child” in his youth, forced to go through life without love, and left to sink into a sadistic, criminalist lifestyle? Either the Parisians are just super-sensitive about looks, or they really, really blew that one out of proportion! My personal theory is that good-looking Gerard Butler didn’t want to spoil his image by being to badly beat up by the make-up people back stage!

    So my overview on The Phantom: for musical lovers with a taste for period costumes and Gothic horror plots, this is sure to be a treat. For others, it may prove a bit “much” in lieu of too much singing and too much creepiness. Certainly not a light-hearted film, and not one you’d necessarily want to watch before going to bed, it does go some way to teach the lesson that people with physical disfigurements must not allow themselves to become emotionally and spiritually disfigured as well because of the cruelty of others. Instead, they must rise above it and find peace within themselves by seeking out relationships based on true love, with God first and others second.

Christine (Emmy Rossum) sees The Phantom (Gerard Butler) for the first time in a mirror