The Skinny On... Phantom of the Paradise

I’ve long put off seeing Phantom of the Paradise (1974) because 1) I’m not a big fan of Brian De Palma, 2) I’m not a big fan of Phantom of the Opera, and 3) I’m not a big fan of rock operas. Combining the three elements would seemingly be a recipe for disaster, but I took a chance and watched Paradise last night. Would you believe I’m a big fan?

A typically over-the-top stylistic exercise for De Palma, Paradise has a wit and lighthearted charm that many of his films lack. While it abounds in filmic references from Cabinet of Dr. Caligari to Metropolis to Psycho (a hilariously subversive rendering of the shower scene), Paradise doesn’t suffocate under the weight of its influences. Indeed, I think it is one of De Palma’s most organic and original films -- a flamboyant, outrageous, even touching satire on the cutthroat music industry, and commentary on the lengths people will go to attain fame (a theme that resonates just as strongly today).

Winslow Leach (William Finley) is a young and terribly naïve songwriter who is discovered by a legendary music producer named Swan (Paul Williams). Instead of signing Leach to a contract, however, Swan sends his thugs to steal his music, beat him to a pulp, and frame him for drug possession. Leach emerges from prison with silver teeth and psychotic rage, going immediately to Swan’s Paradise Theater to seek retribution. As he looks for the reclusive Swan, he is spotted by a security guard and somehow stumbles into a record press, severely burning his face.

He later returns terribly disfigured, finds a metal bird mask to cover his scars, and manages to bomb the act Swan has hired to perform his rock cantata (The Juicy Fruits) as they rehearse. Swan is oddly nonplussed at this turn of events, and, when confronted by Leach, is able to convince him to write an entirely new cantata and personally choose the performers. Leach immediately finds the perfect singer in Phoenix (Jessica Harper), whom he had previously met at an audition, and Swan ostensibly agrees to hire her. But Swan is really just buying time until Leach can finish his new masterpiece, whereupon thugs brick up the entrance to his room. With Leach indisposed, Swan introduces an unsuspecting world to Beef (Gerritt Graham in a hilarious performance), an effeminate glam rocker he has handpicked to open the Paradise.

A mere brick wall can’t hold Leach, however, and he quickly bursts through it and dispatches Beef with a crystal lightning bolt during the performance that night. Phoenix is shuffled on stage as a replacement and gives a star-making performance. Afterward, Leach finds Phoenix and tries to explain who he is, but she is already too drunk with the prospect of fame to listen. She has become so delusional, in fact, that she actually agrees to marry Swan! This is the final straw for Leach, and he attempts suicide. There are more surprises to come, though, as Swan reveals that he has struck a deal with the devil in exchange for eternal youth, and that the contract Leach signed has bound him to Satan as well. This leads to a wild finale involving a live TV wedding, as assassination attempt, and the devil finally collecting his dues.

If you’ve never seen a De Palma film, prepare yourself for stylistic overload. Paradise is filled with his trademark split screens, montage editing, frenetic cutting, and flamboyant visuals. But nothing feels gimmicky here, and the film has such a goofy, likable tone that you never feel bludgeoned by De Palma’s directorial excesses. The music (by Williams) is the kind of overblown, cheesy nonsense you would expect to find in a “rock opera,” but it works perfectly well for the film. The diminutive Williams is quite good as Swan, whose ego is only equaled by his callousness, and Finley brings a quirky humanity to Leach that gives the final scene a surprising emotional punch. Technically, the film is everything you would expect from De Palma, with lush, candy-colored photography and some truly impressive art direction by Sissy Spacek. Yes, that Sissy Spacek.

Phantom abounds in bird imagery, from the dead sparrow that serves as a record label logo to Leach’s metal falcon mask to the names like Swan and Phoenix, so it is apropos that de Palma’s affectionate and fun rock horror fantasy soars above many of the director’s better known films.