Phantom of The Paradise

by michaeljamesseddon

Brian DePalma’s eclectic and adventurous career remains amongst the unsung victories in Hollywood, from his horror masterpiece Carrie to the blockbuster franchise starter Mission: Impossible, he remains one of the most underrated American directors of recent memory. For fans however there is one that stands shoulders above the directors work, that of the truly unique, endlessly creative, boisterous and seminal 1974 rock-opera The Phantom of the Paradise.

 

Effortlessly crafting elements of the works of Mary Shelley, glam-pop, greaser culture, Faust, The Cabinet of Dr Caligari and other German expressionist cinema, De Palma revels in the world he has created. An amalgamation of hundreds of years of literature and music, The Phantom of the Paradise often threatens to derail, but the sterling work of Paul Williams and De Palma bring viewers back into this hypnotic tale of lust, musical devotion, and the true cost of success.

 

The remarkably simple story of a musician selling his soul to a record mogul with the hopes of creating the next big thing, Brian De Palma’s script wittily satires the entire music scene of the late sixties and early seventies. His operatic staging of dramatic scenes, his embracing of sixties kitsch and loving tribute to classic horror and science fiction films (including Phantom of the Opera, and the films of Mario Bava) all collide into a film that defies convention to create a wholly unique visual and aural experience.

 

The influence of The Phantom of the Paradise can be felt throughout modern cinema, from the dreamlike, elliptical narrative to the wilfully broad performances from a young Jessica Harper, and the entrancingly maniacal William Finley as the titular Phantom (who bears an uncanny resemblance to William Fitchner). The works of David Lynch, Edgar Wright and Dario Argento all owe a heavy debt to this pitch-perfect example of bold studio filmmaking. The cinematography, courtesy of Larry Pizer, fills the screen with rich, textured images that scream artifice yet thrill and excite. De Palma’s use of splitscreen and multiple character point of view offer a level of effortless cool that Tarantino would later mimic to acclaim in future film Pulp Fiction.

 

The star however remains Paul Williams’ brilliant, emotionally involving, narratively progressive and catchy tunes. From Juicy Fruit opener “Goodnight, Eddie, Goodnight” (a scene that invokes David Lynch at his best, and which he must surely be endebted), to the draining climactic reprise of “Faust”, De Palma and Williams combine to create iconic images of excess and excitement.

 

The Phantom of the Paradise is a forgotten masterpiece of cult filmmaking that defies convention, often thrilling, this hypnotic musical gem deserves its place in American filmmaking. Both as an experiment and a musical The Phantom of the Paradise excels; this is De Palma at his best and boldest.