My Favorite Phantoms In 1-2 Sentences

Hugh Panaro's evolution over the course of his different runs deserves more attention.

There's that mysterious year long run in the 90s that I know nothing about (is there even footage of it?).

Then he came back around '03 and early on it seems like he tried to fit the mold of the more "classic," operatic Phantoms...but then by '05 you see him embrace his unique vocal style and that more psycho, jokeresque approach to the role.

And then you've got the final run in the 2010s where he builds on what he started exploring at the end of run 2 and perfects the unique touches like "my angel" and offers a more queer-coded Erik, and I love it all. How many Phantoms do you get to have these kind of change over time analyses with??

An Essay on Why David Shannon and Gina Beck Are My Favorite Final Lair Coupling

They are just absolutely brilliant together. And I think it's a combination of bouncing off each other's spontaneous reactions well, but also having a plan and complete synergy in how they understand their characters and the arc of the scene. It all works together to secure the Phantom's transformation and redemption while also leaving the audience feeling like Christine made the right decision, which is such a hard line to walk in the final lair.

I think Gina's Christine genuinely loves Erik in this one, but there was absolutely no way she was going to stay with him after everything he'd done. The decision is questionable for other Christines, but her particular take on the character just wasn't going to allow for that, especially given his Phantom's more aggressive approach to the final lair.

And unlike other interpretations of this scene, both she and David/the Phantom know that and it plays out in their body language post-kiss. Up to that point, David had literally been grabbing Christine at will and throwing her all over the place, all while desperately denying that his actions were dooming their relationship. And now she comes back to return the ring and he literally can't make himself touch her because he knows he's pissed away every claim to that kind of intimacy with her. There's no verbal or physical bid for her to stay; that unfulfilled caress says "I recognize what I've done and that I have no right to ask you to be with me, so I'm letting you go." And even worse is the fact that David also plays Erik with chronic pain, so we can hardly tell if the face twitch/wince he does is literal or figurative (let's just say it's both).

GIVE THEM A DAMN OSCAR, IDC.

Suing John Cudia for Emotional Distress for:

The way his evil laugh sounds like a wail/sob.

Looking upward during the portcullis sprawl like his soul is going to leave his body with Christine brushing up against his--

Panicking and considering CPR when Christine faints.

HANDS (see items 5-7)

Doing motions that make me squirm during STYDI of all numbers when most Phantoms are concerned with the crawl.

Clutching at everything--fabric, air, his own knees and legs--during PONR.

Balling up in a fist when Christine kisses him and then stationed like they're almost protecting his heart afterwards.

The way he slides his whole body up against Christine during PONR.

The way he slides his whole body up against Christine during the final lair kiss.

Laying ON TOP of Christine when he's spiraling during the final lair.

Turning his neck at a damn near 90 degree angle when Raoul arrives in the graveyard.

Cheekbones.

It was all intentional. Lawyer up.

Rewatching Lindsey Ellis's review of Love Never Dies.

I honestly love this play so much. Not even because it's so bad it's good (it's really a little too boring for that). But because I used to write terrible POTO fanfiction when I was like... 8? And at least half my terrible ideas somehow made it into this way-past-its-prime fanservicey sequel.

"Erik has a son" is a complete nonsense pandering idea that undoes the character arcs of the first play's ending. And now people have to argue in the affirmative why it's not canon. It taught me that "real artists" plagiarize fans, and that nothing is too stupid to be made. And that's honestly the best gift I've ever been given.

It's why I'm so confident about "Slippin Kimmy". Love Never Dies taught me to stop worrying if I'm good enough and embrace this affectionate cynicism about art and the entertainment industry.

Can I please open my door to this?

The content I didn't know I needed.

another excerpt from The Hang With Ramin Karimloo where Sierra talks about regretting her choice at the end

This is absolutely brilliant and shows why Peter Karrie is one of the best to ever wear the mask.

An Interview with Peter Karrie

From “POTO: The Phantom of the Opera Magazine”, Millennium Edition (2000), published by Carrie Hernandez. (This btw is the greatest Phantom fan publication ever made, and if you ever see it on eBay you should snap it up. I don’t even have my copy because it’s with Paul, who conducted this interview with Peter in 1994.)

Enormous thanks to @panto-of-the-opera for typing this interview up for me!

Peter Karrie, interviewed by Paul Day Clemens: 

Since falling under the spell of “POTO” (the day the Original London Cast album (OLC) became available in the U.S.) I’ve seen many fine –  and a few brilliant – Eriks but only two performers have ever made me feel I was in the actual presence of the Phantom himself. One was Michael Crawford – yes, he really was that special  (and you can forget the OLC which is but the palest shadow of what he was like on stage!) – and the other is Peter Karrie.

Commanding, dangerous, elegant, chivalrous and heart rending with an unparalleled physicality and wealth of detail, Peter not only made the role his own, completely, but by some rare and strange alchemy, somehow managed to make me forget I was watching a performance at all.

Thrilled, hypnotized and deeply moved, it was not until visiting with Peter after the show that the full impact of his transformation hit me. How could this warm, funny, soft-spoken, down-to-earth guy possibly be the same man I was watching on stage not an hour before hand?

Therein lies the difference between craft – albeit of a rare excellence – and true inspiration. Dare I even say greatness?

Yeah, I dare. For Mr. Karrie’s Phantom is simply one of the greatest portrayals by an actor in the musical theatre that I’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing.

I had the great pleasure of interviewing Peter at length in December 1994 in Toronto as he was getting ready for the Far East tour of “POTO” and what follows here are never before published excerpts from the interview. – Paul Clemens

Paul Clemens: Do you find that the role of the Phantom makes enormous demands on your voice, in terms of the wear and tear of doing at night after night? If you had a sore throat, for instance, would you be able to get through the show?

Peter Karrie: Yeah.  You learn I guess. All professional singers in theatre have to cope with colds and sore throats. Otherwise you’ll be forever off ‘cause it’s a breeding ground of germs. And you develop your voice for stamina over a period of time where you’re doing eight shows a week. You have to. You have to survive it…. So, basically, yeah.

You take the angel [scene] for instance where [the Phantom is] absolutely broken. I’ve had very, very bad laryngitis and I’ve sung that and it sounded great! Simply because you’re breaking down in your voice is all kinds of scuffed up and cracky, you can enact it. But the show takes horrendous wear and tear on the body. It really does. You end up playing mind games with the role.

PC: That’s interesting. How so?

PK: Well, it’s such a powerfully written piece for the actual Phantom. You have to portray a person who’s schizoid, psychotic… and it all sounds very grand and technical. But the actual emotion of it can cut only come from the inside. And so you continue fighting with it.

 [Note from Christine posting this in 2021 - Erik isn’t actually schizoid or psychotic (not that either are “bad” things). I know this is pedantic of me to point out, but I pointed it out at the end of Ethan Freeman’s interview from the mid 90s so I’ll point it out here too.]

PC: I imagine you found a core within the character of identification, something you had an understanding of and could feel a great deal of sympathy toward.

PK: Yes. You have to put yourself through the gambit of it. You have to be the Phantom emotionally for that time, and then it comes out quite naturally. You don’t have to think about it.

PC: Do you find, after all the times you played the role – first in London and now in Toronto – that the emotions are still immediate for you?

PK: Oh, yeah. But as I say, there’s wear and tear. When the mind gets tired then you find you get into problems.

PC: How do you keep the role fresh?

PK: There are all types of hand holds all the way along, from the time you start ‘til the time you finish. I guess the majority of it is set in the rehearsal room where you rehearse at a certain level into a certain standard, and it becomes automatic. But each show will always be different because you have a different audience, different weather conditions, you have different musicians playing in the pit, you have different people you’re playing opposite. So you will always get a variation on the theme. And so that, coupled up with what you’ve put together in rehearsal so you get a fairly high standard of performance every night, merges together. And so you do get a different show every night. But, as I say, it’s a very wearing role. More so than Jean Valjean, where you’re virtually on stage for three and a half hours. But I find the Phantom far more draining.

PC: I can imagine. Whenever you’re on stage you’re at peak intensity and you run the emotional gamut. So that, combined with the vocal demands, must make for one walloping experience.

PK: Exactly…. That, coupled with the exposure. You’re so exposed on stage. Whenever the Phantom does appear, it’s either him on his own, or it’s him with Christine, and something powerful and moving is happening. He doesn’t appear with the chorus – barring the “Masquerade.”

PC: For that reason, a number of the actors who have played the role have complained about a sense of loneliness and isolation. I wondered if you felt that way about it?

 PK: No, I haven’t felt that. But I’ve always mingled with the rest of the cast and crew. I can’t abide all this keeping the door shut. So we open the door and play rock and roll music.

PC: Do you ever feel hampered by all the makeup involved?

PK: You get used to it. Totally. In fact, there are times when you forgotten you’ve got the mask on in the wig lady has to ask you for it. And you think ‘What? I’ve already given it to you!’

PC: That’s right – you wouldn’t be able to feel it, would you? Because it’s actually touching the appliances rather than your face.

PK: You feel it slightly. You know, if you first put it on you’d know it’s there. But after a while… But the wire band ‘round the head lets you know it’s there! And the edge of it catches you sometimes. But no – it becomes part of you. And as for the lip which is built up top and bottom ‘round your mouth, you get used to that as well.

PC: Has it ever come loose during a performance?

PK: Oh, God yeah! We’ve had some great moments where it’s been hanging off. That’s a bit gross. And the bald cap’s come loose in the back, so you do the Second Lair with one hand ‘rounds the back of your head holding your bald cap in place? [laughs] Yeah, you’ve got some good moments.

PC: How did you find the voice which is so distinctive?

PK: Well, that, once again came from the feeling inside. It was like once you had all that stuff on, and I discovered the walk, and kind of latched onto his intention, the voice just followed.

PC: Your interpretation of the line “You try my patience“ is unforgettable. So chilling. I was wondering how that evolved.

PK: Well, I felt that was the climax of the man. That, literally, for me, is where he turns ‘round and he’s at the actual peak of his hate, his frustration. I knew I had to find something which made that moment special. It was set to be special by the music and the way it was directed. That was the key to the man.

PC: It’s as if your voice came from some deep well – as if it bubbled up from some deep, dark place.

PK: That’s right! That’s exactly how I felt it. And then when Christine kisses him it’s like he can’t believe it. “I’ve won!” That euphoric feeling… “She can suffer this face! I think I’ve got her! I think, yes, she does love me!” And then, as he reaches out to touch her… a moment…. He’s taken in the scene of Raoul hanging as he went back to her… and then, all of a sudden, it struck a chord…. “Hang on….” And then the realization hits him: “She’s just doing it for him. She’s literally giving me her self to save him. She loves him… She can never love me the same as she loves him.” And it’s all a kind of mental game there. And you’ve only got split seconds to get the audience in on it, so he has to be kind of demonstrative in his actions.

PC: After the kiss, there was a moment where you sort of winced, pulling away from her twice like a wounded animal, your right arm almost becoming spastic… there were so many levels, all going simultaneously.

PK: He’s coming to terms. All these thoughts are rushing through his head and he’s off balance. Everything has shaken him and he’s lost his façade of “everything-under-control.”

PC: And the body is breaking down.

PK: That’s right. He’s been stripped of everything just by having to face himself – and face the truth. That one clear moment where he realizes this is wrong – this is all wrong – this is not how it should be.

PC: And when the phantom cries “GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!” – you built each word into a series of escalating crescendos which was tremendously effective, I thought. Very powerful.

PK: It’s all the process of him actually coming to terms with himself. It’s as you say – one after another, one after the other – then finally she’s gone and he’s left…. This is after she’s given him the ring and she’s gone… And he looks… and he sees the empty throne. And he knows that’s all his life is.

PC: That’s very moving. Do you ever find that the final words – “It’s over now the Music of the Night” – are difficult to get out with all the emotion you’re experiencing?

PK: I did at the beginning, yeah. Sometimes I used to get caught up in it, which is a dreadfully dangerous thing, ‘cause then everything tightens up and you get the proverbial lump in your throat.

PC: It’s sort of walking a bit of a tight rope, isn’t it?

PK: Yeah! [laughs] That’s right. And then there’s a moment where I can get space to subdue all that and concentrate on doing the last bit. That’s where he’s got the veil in his hand and she’s in the boat comin’ across the back singing with Raoul and I say “Christine I love you” very, very quietly, and very broken, and then I can take some breaths which calm it all down and get myself kind of poised for the last bit. ‘Cause that’s gotta be kind of the statement: “You alone can make my song take flight.” That is the statement of release. It’s like a rhetorical statement – you will always be the music of my life. And therefore I can’t change it.” It’s that feeling he’s got in his body. He bends over backwards. And then the final moment is where he turns around and wipes it clean. And he does it in a far stronger attitude than anything else he does… “It’s over now the Music of the Night.”

PC: I’ve read that you feel he’s starting a new life at that point.

PK: Yes! Yes… When I’m walking to the chair, I let the veil just drop behind, and I think to myself “It’s over. Now what else is there? There must be something else… It’s over.” And you do it with such a final flourish – the cape and everything – you’re back in control of yourself. You’ve had the osmosis. You’ve come out of the one period of your life which actually threatened to ruin you, and you’re now standing on the threshold of another one.

PC: Oh yes. It’s wonderful to hear what’s going through your mind as you’re doing the scene. And the impact of that final scene is tremendous. Do you have a favourite scene in the show?

PK: That would be it.  ‘Cause it’s only six minutes long, that Second Lair. And in that six minutes you literally travel from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. It’s a whole journey.

  MORE BELOW… Keep reading, it’s a long interview, with plenty more thoughts and content about Phantom, including some really funny classic mishaps.

Keep reading

Not sure if I'm allowed to do this (so someone tell me if I need to trash this post) but I just can't witness this Anthony Warlow near-hand touch and not do something about it.

David Thaxton's Phantom is a special kind of unhinged and...amazing?

Slowly starting to discover Phantoms 2018-present as I build my mini archive. He and Killian Donnelly (but also maybe Dean Chisnall?) are carrying the post-Panaro era on their backs.