Fighting off a 60’s sugar hangover of Disney singalongs and reluctant nannies, musicals took turns being either idealistic (Hair) or Good Book Wavin’ moralistic (Godspell, Jesus Christ Superstar), and we called them Rock Musicals – the music (slightly more) hard hitting, the lyrics speaking to the issues of the day – spirituality, war – heady stuff (on paper). But who was giving the Devil his due? Where was a musical about the fun side of sin, temptation, sacrifice, and ill gained ecstasy? Where was the rock musical ABOUT rock and roll? And then, yay and verily, it did arrive on the world’s doorstep in a black bassinet, cackling and screaming, eager to please and ready to reign. Welcome to Phantom of the Paradise (1974). As a wise old Glam queen once said, “Life at last! Salutations from the other side!”

Released on Halloween by 20th Century Fox, PotP did not reign. At all. Critics were not kind, and audiences were left confused by this cross stitched amalgamation of Faust, Phantom of the Opera, Dorian Gray, and Billboard Magazine. Phantom was beloved in exactly two locations – Paris, France, and Winnipeg, Canada, where it played for months in theaters and garnered Gold certification for the soundtrack. I can’t vouch for France, but I grew up around that part of Canada and my older brother played the album all the time – I knew the songs way before I saw the film. Regardless, long after the smoke machines cleared and the California snow blew away, fans of the delightfully macabre have come to embrace this weird, hilarious, kaleidoscopic candy coated manifesto. Take your seats, the show is about to begin…

Singer – songwriter Winslow Leach (William Finley) is duped into turning over his magnum opus, a cantata based on Faust, to malevolent music impresario Swan (played with a sublime showbiz lacquer by Paul Williams). Realising Swan is using his music for his novelty 50’s act The Juicy Fruits, Winslow confronts Swan and is promptly framed and sent to prison for life. After he escapes, Winslow is disfigured by a record press trying to put an end to Swan’s desecration of his music. During rehearsals for the grand opening of Swan’s new theater, The Paradise, Winslow sabotages Swan’s other nostalgia act (this time taking on the 60’s), The Beach Bums. Realising Winslow is not going to go away, Swan signs him to a lifetime (and beyond) contract to rewrite his cantata for Phoenix (Jessica Harper), a young ingénue who Winslow feels should be his voice (record presses are a bitch on vocal cords). Tricked once again by Swan (Glam rocker Beef is brought in to sing in Phoenix’s place) and left for dead, Winslow wreaks havoc on the Paradise and all who stand in his way from saving Phoenix from the clutches of the devilish Swan.

I really had to work to simplify the plot description, because there is just so much going on in this film. It truly is a potpourri of literary influences, cinematic homages, and inside jokes. The thread that ties it all together is a loving satire of the music business – the obsession with fame at any cost, the decadence that envelopes it, and the regurgitation of old ideas covered in new upholstery. The Juicy Fruits, The Beach Bums, and The Undead (the Glam band that precedes Beef at the Paradise opening) are all played by the same characters, emphasizing Swan’s knack for savvy marketing over originality. Everything from contracts the size of phone books to seedy ‘auditions’ to macho artifice (oh, Beef) is covered, not so much damning as pushing it to the front of the stage for a closer look.

Working the curtains for this murderous matinee is none other than writer/director Brian DePalma (Carrie). Fresh off the sly thriller Sisters (’73), he comes in to full bloom here, displaying a masterful (and light) touch, very much playing up the comedic, colorful aspects of the film without sacrificing the gothic gestures throughout. There’s always something interesting going on in the frame with DePalma, whether it’s forced perspective or visual metaphors (the narcissistic barrage of mirrors comes to mind), stuffing the screen for all to see. A feast for the eyes...

…and the ears. At the time of PotP, Paul Williams was one of the hottest singer/songwriters around. Responsible for co-writing some of the biggest hits of the day from the likes of the Carpenters and Three Dog Night, he specialised in catchy, melodramatic soft rock, often romantic, but also often dark and brooding. His music in PotP is a revelation. I’m sure people at the time were concerned that Williams would be a bad fit to compose a soundtrack of rock and roll. Except it’s not that, it’s a soundtrack about rock and roll – and he covers every era from the 50’s doo wop of “Goodbye, Eddie, Goodbye” through the faux Beach Boys of “Upholstery” to the wave of Glam rock starting to swell on these shores on “Somebody Super Like You” and “Life at Last”. These are fascimiles, tributes really, played and sung affectionately and without cynicism. So while the film lampoons the machinations of the music industry, the songs themselves act as a reminder why people fall in love with music in the first place. The remainder of the songs are more in keeping with Williams regular milieu, but tied to the story thematically. Every good Phantom should have his own theme. Finley does, and it’s beautiful.

Speaking of Finley (Sisters), his casting is an unusual choice. Tall, gangly, devoid of standard leading man looks, he portrays the sadness (and rage) inherent in Winslow, and by the time he dons his Phantom costume, we are firmly entrenched in his corner, through every obstacle he faces just to be heard, for who he is. A heartbreaking performance in and out of the mask. Harper (Suspiria) brings the right amount of naivete and street smarts to the girl with scruples who still can’t resist the dark lure of fame. Gerritt Graham (Used Cars) has a star making, hilarious turn as Beef, proving how much of Hollywood is built on illusion. Williams natural likeability dovetails perfectly into his role as Swan. Part Phil Spector, part snake oil salesman, all satanic snake, he simply oozes smarm as a vain, talented man who sold his soul (at one point he intones to Winslow “I’m under contract too”) for the chance to stay young (and talented) forever – but when the talent dries up, he resents the new blood he’s brought aboard to keep the charade alive. It’s a mesmerizing performance – if you’re going to play a devil, you might as well have a helluva time.

Why didn’t audiences respond to PotP when it came out? I think they were too far culturally in it to see what it was – it needed a generational distance to appreciate the satire. As well, music fans had a hard time calibrating the horror with the tunes – a measure that was slowly remedied as The Rocky Horror Picture Show (’75) began it’s slow, bizarre climb up the ladder of success. Hard to fathom, but the very industry it was lambasting appreciated it – PotP was nominated for an Oscar and a Golden Globe for the music, and a Writer’s Guild of America nomination for DePalma. Unlike Rocky Horror, Phantom of the Paradise never got the “midnight movie” love. But while Rocky Horror wore itself ragged, Phantom waited patiently for the curtain to rise and bask in the spotlight. That time is now. Life at last.

Phantom of the Paradise is available in a special Collector’s Edition Blu-ray/DVD Combo Pack from Scream Factory.