On its surface, “Phantom of the Paradise” is a campy sci-fi and horror-themed musical riddled with cultural allusions and stylistic flair. Yet the movie uses its campy musical style to expose the loss of artistic control through exploitation and commercialization in the music industry.
“Phantom of the Paradise” screened at Amherst Cinema as part of its Late Nights Series on Friday, March 20 to a packed audience who passionately watched the film.
Brian De Palma’s 1974 musical was a box-office failure. The film received massive amounts of negative reviews following its release and barely made back its budget in the first weeks of screenings, only becoming a cult classic years later. “Phantom of the Paradise” is not only influenced by cultural moments from the mid-20th-century music scene but also by the legend of Faust, “The Picture of Dorian Gray” and, obviously, “The Phantom of the Opera.”
Beneath its campy undertones and stylistic extremities, De Palma’s representation of the music industry expose the exploitation of gender, power and true artists’ rights behind the scenes in the music industry. De Palma used the whimsy to uncover a world that the average person may not have been familiar with as the commercialization of pop music intensified in the mid-20th century.
“Phantom of the Paradise” opens with a twangy musical run-through of “Goodbye Eddie, Goodbye” from a 1950s fictional band, the Juicy Fruits. The singers giddily sing into their microphones, flaunting their greased-back hair and greaser-style outfits. The obviously highly commercialized band is a part of the music label empire, Swan’s Death Records.
Following the lingering feeling of nostalgia from the Juicy Fruits, Winslow Leach (William Finley) takes the stage to perform “Faust.” His echoing piano melodies and unexpectedly captivating voice theatrically linger as the camera slowly spins around the singer at the piano.
As Winslow performs, the all-powerful figure of Swan (Paul Williams) is shown in a booth overlooking the stage and becomes infatuated with Leach’s composition. The viewer does not initially see the man’s figure, just his demanding hand. Swan becomes determined to use Leach’s number on the opening night of his upcoming musical hall, The Paradise, and orders his right-hand man to steal the lengthy sheet music for Leach’s entire concept play about Faust.
Swan’s character is depicted as a small but odious man whose age is deliberately ambiguous, adding to his unsettling presence. The power-hungry producer never seems to allow for any creative agency in his decisions throughout the film and is solely in pursuit of commercial-driven goals. It is later revealed that Swan has comically made a deal with Satan to maintain his youth, mirroring his character’s Faustian influences. The deal is preserved in the physical safety of the film reels the pact was recorded on, with Swan’s illusion of youth capable of falling apart if the media is destroyed. Swan ultimately symbolizes the epitome of the evil behind the music industry.
Once Leach discovers that Swan has stolen his music, he becomes determined to receive credits for his music. While trying to do so, he meets Phoenix (Jessica Harper) at Swan’s auditions where dozens of women are lined up to be considered on a “casting couch” with him. Despite Leach’s ignorance to Swan’s exploitation of female singers, Leach is determined for Phoenix to perform his music. As the lead female character, Phoenix delivers few meaningful lines and simply moves along with the story, highlighting the lack of agency for women in the industry.
Swan discovers Leach’s determination to reclaim his music and punishes him, disfiguring his face, planting drugs on him and sending him to Sing Sing Prison, where his teeth are replaced by metal. Swan’s authoritarian power apparently dooms Leach, as it seems there is no way to save his music at the hands of the satanic producer. Despite this, Leach continues to return to fight for his credits, resulting in Swan imprisoning him to work for him. Leach’s suffering falls at the hands of his manager, who rids him of his senses and ability to live independently.
Leach, now donning an owl-like metal mask to cover his disfigured face, is held captive by Swan to complete his composition. He is cast as the Phantom and assigned to perfect the opening night at The Paradise. Leach is left without a voice following his dental surgery, forcing him into a distorted voice that can only truly be understood through a device created by Swan. Meanwhile, Swan continues his pursuit to find the ideal image of who will perform “Faust” at The Paradise, ultimately deciding on the glam rock artist Beef (Gerrit Graham).
The opening of The Paradise collapses on the second night of performances: Swan attempts to have Phoenix assassinated on stage to sensationalize her image for an action-hungry audience. Although Phoenix survives thanks to Leach, both Swan and Leach are killed.
In the film’s final moments, “Phantom of the Paradise” suggests that the power of the music industry lies with producers and managers, not with artists. De Palma presents a world where artistic authenticity is nearly impossible to preserve, as it is constantly reshaped by those in power to fit their agendas. In an obvious metaphor for music producers’ dominance over musicians’ voices and creative agency, De Palma emphasizes that artists can lose power over their own work or personal lives if they are bound to capital-driven managers.
Drenched in nostalgic glam rock mixed with sci-fi undertones, “Phantom of the Paradise” is a standalone musical that is truly unique in every way. The film’s genre-bending nature makes the viewing experience slightly overwhelming, but nonetheless compelling in its portrayal of the exploitation embedded in the music industry.
Crissy Saucier can be reached at [email protected].