Phantom of the Paradise He Sold His Soul for Rock and Roll!

This was the advertising tag line (bellowed by none other than Wolfman Jack in the original trailers) for "Phantom of the Paradise", one of the most original and vibrant films in the cinematic oeuvre of horrormeister Brian DePalma. It is a Gothic melodrama/musical/comedy/horror film… as well as a scathing satire on the modern music industry. The film's biting wit remains just as venomous today as it did thirty-some years ago… musical tastes may have changed ever-so-slightly but the relentless quest for fame and fortune still remains.

Before becoming a big box office draw with neo-Hitchcockian retreads (Obsession, Dressed To Kill, Body Double) DePalma was a gifted satirist (Greetings, Hi Mom!) and Phantom of the Paradise marks his transition from anarchic anti-conformist comedies to all-out suspense and horror. It was many years later before DePalma again attempted anything in a satirical vein. Unfortunately, that movie ("Bonfire of the Vanities") turned out to be another box office and critical dud as well.

Phantom of the Paradise tells the story of a successful music producer in search of the next "big thing" in music. He suspects he has found it in the work of a struggling composer. He steals the music and has the songwriter framed and sent to prison. Bent on revenge, the composer becomes horribly disfigured and vows to destroy the producer while, at the same time, aiding the pretty young chanteuse who is determined to be a star in the producer's new show.

A movie as with as many disparate elements as this (horror, comedy and music) and trying to cover so many bases is almost bound to fail but Phantom of the Paradise succeeds on every level. The score in particular (composed and written by winsome pop star Paul Williams) is a lyrical triumph as well as musically adventurous, running the gamut from pain-wracked ballads of guilt and despair to pop-infused parodies of teen angst.

The opening tune ("Goodbye, Eddie, Goodbye") is, at same time, a sly send-up of the mawkish sentimentality of certain '50s pop hits as well a satiric jab at how the consumer marketplace responds to death (by driving up sales and bestowing barely-deserved fame upon the deceased).

The acting is also impeccable: from Paul Williams' portrayal of the self-aggrandizing Swan… to William Finley's sad sack songwriter Winslow… to Jessica Harper's gifted starlet-to-be Phoenix… to Gerrit Graham's prancing yet contemplative rock star Beef. All are more than just the one-note characters which usually populate satires… straw men and women which are set up just to be torn down to make the author's point.

The characters in this movie are all distinctly human. Swan is more than just the evil music mogul with the need to corrupt… he is also an insecure musician himself who has a tragic obsession with maintaining his youthful looks. Winslow is more than just the comic foil that he plays at the start… he is fueled by an inner rage that eventually translates to cold-blooded murder.

Phoenix is not merely the doe-eyed ingénue… she knows what she wants from life and is determined to get it, no matter what the cost. Beef might be the most complex character of all: a preening, talentless buffoon at first glance but also a man who seems to be fully aware of his minor artistic stature and who appears to be working through his guilt via a succession of mild-altering pharmaceuticals.

What may have hurt the film most at the box office is that it was too gory for a comedy and too funny for a horror movie. Nowadays it is de rigueur for a film to have equal doses of comedy and laughs… but back in the '70s audiences were still a bit wary it seems. The pain of Winslow's disfiguring via a record-pressing machine is explicitly depicted and a difficult scene to watch. ("This is a comedy?" some would ask.)

The scene of Winslow creeping upon the unsuspecting Beef in the shower may be a sly parody of the famous shower scene in "Psycho" but it also a suspenseful moment in its own right (although the payoff is a lot funnier than anything in Hitchcock's movie).

Verbal puns (Winslow is sent to "Sing Sing" prison), slapstick (a scene of Winslow being thrown out of Swan's mansion by goon-ish bodyguards is done in sped-up silent film style) and in-jokes (a voice synthesizer transforms Winslow's tortured vocals into the smooth stylings of Paul Williams) abound. What's unusual about such a wide assortment of film styles is that they all work… both separately and in the movie as a whole.

Phantom of the Paradise was a dismal box office failure all across North America… except in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada where the film mysteriously garnered a huge cult following… playing regular film dates for over a year. The record album of the soundtrack was a huge seller locally. One of the songs, "Somebody Super Like You" was a tremendous hit on a local AM radio station. To mark the 30th anniversary of the film Winnipeg hosted a "Phantompalooza", a special public screening of the film in its original theater with two if the film's stars, William Finley and Gerrit Graham, in attendance. Why this film was such a smash hit in only one small portion of North America is unknown… but a film this rich deserves a much wider audience.