Welcome to Second Chances, a recurring feature which gives widely underloved and notoriously maligned genre works another opportunity to impress and redeem themselves with a reviewer who initially found them severely lacking. Maybe these follow-up looks will result in a kinder re-evaluation…or maybe not. Will dull misfires shine brighter after years of distance and nostalgia? Will initially infuriating films somehow reveal their hidden genius?

For this installment of Second Chances, your writer revisits iconic horror director Dario Argento’s widely derided 1998 stab at retelling the tale of The Phantom of the Opera.

Long considered by many to be both the absolute nadir of Phantom adaptations and the beginning of Argento’s artistic decline, this twenty-year old film recently received a spiffy new Blu-ray special edition courtesy of Scorpion Releasing, which this reviewer has turned to in order to revisit the film. Have the years and the recent, loving attention of a boutique media label revealed a misunderstood gem, or is Argento’s take on a classic horror tale still as maddeningly terrible as it was some two decades ago?

First Impressions

Back in the early days of the internet, this fan would delight in hopping on old school message boards and seeking out any number of simple websites devoted to covering upcoming horror movie releases. After having caught his film The Stendhal Syndrome on a bootleg VHS sourced from a Japanese laserdisc from a now long defunct bootleg/import site (RIP Video Junkie), I made it a point to try and seek out as many of Argento’s films as I could. And believe it or not, back in the mid-90s it was pretty impossible to try and track down most of the titles that would be major catalogue releases for DVD companies only a half decade down the line. Suspiria, Deep Red, Tenebrae, Phenomena? They all sounded fantastic from the descriptions I could seek out online, but there was no way in hell to track them all down during this period.

Around that time, it was announced that the director would be tackling one of your writer’s favorite tales – The Phantom of the Opera. As a tyke, I grew up with the Claude Rains Universal pic, the Eternity Comics adaptation, and a cousin who was obsessed with the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical and didn’t mind sharing this enthusiasm with her younger family member (and, sure, I’d also sneak the occasional viewing of the grisly, R-rated Robert Englund version whenever my parents weren’t paying attention). So the prospect of a respected auteur employing his signature visual style in service of retelling a classic horror tale was incredibly exciting to this burgeoning horror fan. I scoured sites for what scant info I could find, I revisited the earlier Phantom film adaptations, and even traveled a decent distance to score an issue of Cinefantastique which featured an article on the making of Argento’s upcoming opus (and boasted a number of eye-popping pieces of production artwork which ensured that this adaptation would be a stunningly beautiful work).

Eventually, the film hit DVD here in the States in late ’99, in a special “Unrated Director’s Cut” edition displaying Argento’s lovely daughter and frequent lead Asia, as well as the Phantom’s signature half-mask (which makes no appearance in the actual film). Having seen even more of Argento’s early work by this point, your writer was utterly exhilarated the day his local FYE put up a copy for sale. That DVD was quickly snagged, then popped into a player at the first possible moment so that I could finally witness what I was certain would be an absolute classic.

I…it…oof.

To say that the film disappointed would be a nearly irresponsible understatement. While I usually try to steer clear of hyperbole in all situations, I’m fairly certain that – at eighteen years of age – I had witnessed the single worst film I’d ever seen up until that point in my life. Though I held onto the DVD and let it take up real estate on my shelves over the years (damn a collector’s completist mentality!), I avoided revisiting the film for years and years. Two decades, in fact – certain that I’d never feel the need to revisit this particular entry in a favorite director’s oeuvre.

Second Chance

Well.

The release of Argento’s film in an impressive new special edition Blu-ray earlier this year seemed to herald a resurgence in interest for Gaston Leroux’s timeless character. After reading a recent magazine article on the original novel and its many adaptations, hearing a set of my favorite podcasters briefly discuss the character, and having my own passion for an old Phantom-related project reignited, I decided to dive into my collection and revisit the character in earnest. From rereading the book, to rewatching the various film adaptations, to seeking out memorabilia to order and add to my collection, I’ve had a blast these last couple of weeks by reconnecting with my love for that character.

And, yes, part of that engagement included my picking up that beautiful new Scorpion Blu-ray. It has a gorgeous cover, lots of people were talking about it online, and…well…dammit, somebody saw fit to rerelease it!!! Surely there’s some merit to the film that I’d missed on that initial viewing all those years ago, right?! So, of course, I had to purchase it and give it another day in court.

Sandwiched between viewings of the excellent ‘60s Hammer Phantom and Schumacher’s intermittently elegant and clumsy adaptation of the Webber musical, my rewatch of Argento’s take was entered into with complete optimism. I’d sincerely hoped that this viewing would unveil an underloved gem whose genius was overlooked upon its initial release. What followed with this viewing was the realization that the film isn’t as bad as I’d long thought.

It’s considerably worse.

Dario Argento’s The Phantom of the Opera tops Sleepless, The Mother of Tears, and Dracula 3D as the single worst film in Argento’s filmography. It’s astonishingly bad, exhibiting a nearly two hour collection of poor choices which seem to run counter to every successful directorial instinct Argento possessed up until this point in his career. It’s nearly impressive, how wrongheaded it all is.

For those who’ve never seen this film (or any other Phantom film, really), a quick recap: a shadowy figure (Julian Sands) haunts the Paris Opera’s underground, violently protecting his world while taking an interest in beautiful young opera singer Christine Daaé (Asia Argento). This phantom becomes infatuated with Christine, and sets about ensuring her success through diabolical means, even as Christine’s suitor Raoul attempts to determine the phantom’s true nature and save his lover from the madman’s clutches. Inevitably, a showdown occurs in the depths of the opera house, which ends the tale in violence and heartbreak.

Not a terrible setup, no. It’s worked well in the past for other storytellers and filmmakers, surely. And indeed, Argento’s film is about as faithful to its source material as many other of the adaptations, though it’s simply far less fun…and far less competent.

As a gripping tale of love and madness, the film fails miserably, unable to elicit anything in the way of tension, jolts, or even a single solitary someone to give a damn about. The characters are all so paper thin, their actions frequently unfathomable, that it’s impossible to become invested in the story that unspools before us. Nor does the movie work as a successful romance, presenting its love triangle as clumsily as possible, with a trio of actors who have zero chemistry with one another.

Worse still is the film’s handling of its title character. The Phantom here is no disfigured wretch, but a handsome, dashing blond who looks a hell of a lot like that guy from Warlock. Alright, fine, interesting choice – but the other changes made to this character are just baffling. For starters, this Phantom wields supernatural powers and telepathy whenever it proves convenient to the story (or the story’s many setpieces, anyway). In addition, the backstory given to him, recounted by the struggling Sands in a poorly written exposition dump, finds that the Phantom was abandoned as a child and raised by the rats living in the Paris underground. And, having been raised by rats, this Phantom kills his prey in much the same way a rat would – with his teeth. That’s right, our Phantom chews and gnashes at his victims, even biting out a helpless woman’s tongue in a gruesome moment crafted by Italian effects legend Sergio Stivaletti (whose gnarly gore work in the film, including a gruesome variation on the tale’s expected chandelier fall, escapes any criticism).

Asia Argento’s Christine doesn’t fare much better. More a prop than a fully fleshed out character, this Christine is so very poorly realized – and Asia, a fine actor in many other films, is simply unable to bring any life to this underwritten part. In truth, she exists only to serve the story’s needs and provide the film its sex appeal, which…okay, look: I’m far from the first person to point this out, but yikes is it weird to consider that Dario Argento directed his own daughter in this film. Given how Christine is initially introduced while bouncing about in a see-through dress, and given how the camera practically leers at her naked body during the film’s fairly crass love scene…it’s just fucking bizarre, man. It adds an uncomfortable layer to an already icky film – a film that finds Argento ladling on the perversity in showing the seedy underbelly of Parisian society, done in a fashion that manages to be both disgusting and eye-rolling, all at once. And I haven’t even mentioned the rat orgy yet!

Ohhhh, the rat orgy.

So. Julian Sands’ Phantom has an orgy. With rats. He lays down, bares his chest, starts rubbing rats all over himself, and then slowly unbuckles his pants before the film mercifully cuts away. It…it baffles, folks.

And then there are the opera’s rat catchers, who drive about the underground in their steampunky rat-catcher mobile. There is the dodgy CG sequence of the Phantom on top of the opera house, hallucinating surreal images of human/rat hybrids caught in a massive rat trap. There are the CG fly closeups. There are SO many insane choices made in this film, that it seems it should be impossible for it to not at least entertain on some level…but no. The film’s biggest sin, somehow, is that it’s really quite boring on top of everything else.

And what a surprise that is, for both an Argento film, AND an adaptation of one of the most beloved gothic horror tales of all time.

Final Verdict

Time has revealed this film to be a nigh unwatchable trainwreck. Though its recent rerelease to Blu-ray boasts a good transfer and some interesting interviews, the movie itself is sadly little more than a stain on a great director’s filmography. If you’re an Argento or Phantom completist, you will no doubt feel the need to seek out this movie at some point.

But for this writer? No. No more trips to this opera for me.