January 26, 1988: It was one of New
York's coldest, windiest nights, but outside the Majestic Theatre, there was
nothing but hot excitement as hundreds of media captured the arrival of
celebrities in black tie and elegant evening wear and sparkling jewels emerging
from limos onto the red carpet as audience members and a crowd worthy of a
Hollywood premiere shivered to observe and gawk. This was the opening night of
Andrew Lloyd Webber and Charles Hart's The Phantom of the Opera.
It was no ordinary opening, as word and critical acclaim from London's West End
had long ago reached New York - actually all of the U.S.
Inside, against the backdrop of Maria Bjôrnson's decadent faux proscenium of
golden Gothic erotica, all those cascading curtains and swags and, under the
brilliance of that gigantic chandelier, amid the flamboyance and color of Ms.Bjôrnson's
colorful costumes, things warmed up considerably and quickly. There was an aura
of excitement in the air. Something special, memorable was about to unfold.
Who in the world ever knew that this
musical adaptation of Gaston Leroux's classic novel Le Fantôme de L'Opéra would become a
worldwide phenomenon and a century-hopping smash - not to mention one of the
highest grossing shows of all time?
Things hadn't gone well the night
before at the dress run through that precedes the first preview. Tony-winning
producer/director Hal Prince paced backstage, praying that everything in that
early era of computer-driven shows would work. It didn't. Not long into the
first act, the ghost of the Phantom struck. One of the huge swags [curtain
drops] fell right onto the middle of the stage. No one was hurt and eventually
the show went on. But not without incident.
As the Phantom, Michael Crawford,
snatched his pupil Christine, Sarah Brightman, from Paris Opera dressing room
and the segue began that takes them to the Phantom's lair in the bowels of the
catacombs below, amid mist from dry ice and maneuvering on the dog track
through candelabra, the gondola went berserk. It followed a trajectory of its
own, crushing candles in its wake with sparks of electricity flooding the
stage.
There was fear from backstage that a
fire might erupt. It didn't and, in the truest sense of tradition, the show
went on.
When the Christine and Raul, the
Vicomte de Chagny [the late Steve Barton], enraptured in love and fear, escaped
to the roof top of the Opera, it was actually pretty hard to figure out where
the heck they were. Ms.Bjôrnson took care of that by changing the lighting and
adding the effect of moving clouds.
Everything
was in working order by opening night. "When the house lights dimmed,"
says director Prince, "the audience started to applaud and it was before the
show even started! From there, it just kept going. Very electric!"
Thunderous
applause welcomed the unveiling and illumination of the item that had
bi-continental buzz, buzz, buzz before there was
buzz, buzz, buzz: the huge chandelier. It continued as it rose from the Opera House ash heap and was lifted
high into the Majestic's dome.
There was some fear and trepidation
in the audience when it came time for the big payoff moment - the part of the
show that was the most eagerly awaited: The Phantom's dastardly deed of
crashing the chandelier. It had been ominously wobbling quite a bit throughout
the first act. But the audience had nothing to worry about. For weeks, the
rigging had been tested and retested and tested again. Then the chandelier plummeted.
Hearts raced. There were dropped jaws and uhhhs and ahhhs - and applause, applause, and more applause.
Lloyd
Webber, his fingers twitching and heart quite heavily pounding, was as nervous
as always, but managed to sum up the night best. "It was quite simply a
magical evening!"
Surely it
was. He, Hart, Stilgoe, and Prince had reason to celebrate. It turned out to be
the composer's finest hour, his most lavish show to date, and (this will
continue to be debated for years), certainly, one of his very best scores.
Lloyd Webber's music has never been the darling of critics, but audiences have
devoured almost every show he's written. It has been fun for years for those in
the know to pinpoint what music is Aaron Copeland's, Verdi's, and Puccini's;
but audiences haven't give it a second thought. They just keep coming and
coming and coming.
Thanks to Prince dropping in from
time to time and mainly the day-to-day attention to detail from the production
supervisors and Gillian Lynne (Cats),
associate director/choreographer/musical staging, who does more than look in on
the dancers a few times a year. She's a stickler for structure and gives pages
and pages of notes. [I only hope the Shuberts got the cleaning contractors into
the auditorium to dust the banks and banks of lighting and stagehands to dust that
magnificent faux proscenium.]
Prince stated not long ago that he'd
been reading a lot about POTO statistics, "but I'm not that interested
in knowing the weight of the chandelier, but very proud of the fact that over
these 25 years that The Phantom of the Opera has employed over 8,000 people
on Broadway and the various touring companies."
Michael Crawford, the original West End and Broadway
Phantom, proved to be quite the elusive star. He would arrive early for the
long and arduous make-up transformation [streamlined through the years]. He
kept his door closed and visitors had to be announced. Even Brightman, directly
across the way, would never just go and knock unannounced. In January, 2006,
when the show became the longest-running show in Broadway history, he thanked Lloyd
Webber and Prince for selecting him "for the role that changed my
life."
Like New York City, the nation, and all of Broadway,
The Phantom of the Opera, experienced
a rough period at the box office after 911, but quickly recovered. Since its debut, it's grossed over $880-million.
Even now, into its 25th year, it's consistently among the highest-grossing
shows. Earlier this year, the production
shattered the house record at the Majestic by having its best weekly
gross (keep in mind, prices are considerably higher than 1988's). Attendance is
estimated to be over 15 million.
Ellis Nassour is an international media journalist, and author of Honky Tonk Angel: The Intimate Story of Patsy Cline, which he has adapted into a musical for the stage. Visit www.patsyclinehta.com.
He can be reached at [email protected]
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