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[title]In a moment of cultural reckoning, where classic works are coming under renewed critical reappraisal, it might seem a little risky to remount Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Phantom of the Opera. It does, after all, tell the story of a murderous ghoul who stalks, isolates and threatens a young woman in a basement because he’s obsessed with her talent; it debuted on London’s West End back in 1986, when gender politics looked vastly different.
It is a risk worth taking, though, according to stars Josh Piterman and Amy Manford, who are about to bring a completely new production of the gothic masterwork to Melbourne. Having played the Phantom and his muse Christine in previous productions around the world, they’ve had plenty of time to contemplate the nuances of their characters’ problematic psycho-sexual relationship.
“This happens in the real world,” Manford tells us when we catch up with the pair as they prepare to open at Arts Centre Melbourne’s State Theatre. “People are abusers, and women are subject to this kind of behaviour.” She isn’t necessarily referring to the masks, mirrors and subterranean music lessons, but to the culture of coercion women are subject to in the wider world.
Piterman picks up on this point immediately. “What we’re doing on stage is holding up a mirror to society. If we were to dilute and sanitise that, I assure you the demons of the world will continue to [abuse women] and we’re not going to be able to see it. And that is even more dangerous.”
What we’re doing on stage is holding up a mirror to society. To dilute and sanitise that... that is even more dangerous.
Of course, Phantom is a grand piece of musical theatre spectacle based on a lurid gothic horror novel, so it isn’t making any claims to socio-political verisimilitude. And lowering the age of the Phantom mitigates the creepiness, or at least removes some of the power imbalance underpinning the original pairing of Sarah Brightman and Michael Crawford.
“Christine and the Phantom are, in this production, quite young and a little bit naïve,” Manford explains. “The hub of their relationship is really the music, so they think. They don’t realise the romantic implications of these music lessons.” Piterman adds that “we don’t play the romance. The romance is just an undercurrent that happens despite them, in a way.”
There have also been some important changes in the role of Christine, which give her more agency, more of a sense of self-determination and control. She’s no longer tilting towards the ‘maiden in a tower’ trope beloved of the late-19th-century romances that Gaston Leroux’s original novel mines so slavishly.
“It’s really a coming-of-age story for Christine; she’s moving from a girl into a woman,” Manford says. “She’s given a lot more strength in this production. It’s her choice to follow the Phantom. She’s fascinated by this amazing person, who has these passions she shares. In the end, she takes things into her own hands.”
Christine is given a lot more strength in this production. It’s her choice to follow the Phantom.
Even the physical nature of their relationship comes at Christine’s instigation this time around. She initiates the intimacy between them by touching the Phantom’s face, something that takes them both by surprise. For Piterman, this moment is crucial. “He hasn’t ever felt the touch of a woman, and it’s almost too much. He wants to get back to the music.”
This ‘beautiful innocence’ seems reflected in the dynamic between Piterman and Manford themselves, who bounce off and talk over each other like enthusiastic siblings. Manford tells a hair-raising anecdote about getting caught in a life-threatening bora (high-speed wind event) on the Adriatic right after learning she’d been cast as Christine in London, which Piterman is clearly hearing for the first time. And he is shyly amused when she confesses the London cast “thought he was the hot Phantom” when Lloyd Webber’s Really Useful Company were considering casting him.
While this production tones down the ‘ickiness’ somewhat, it doesn’t mean the show has been denuded or de-sexualised. The danger that animates the Phantom and Christine’s relationship is a key tension in any iteration of Phantom, and audiences expect it. “Phans of this show, as they refer to themselves, have a very strong attachment to it,” Manford says. “They get very possessive about it.”
This might feel restrictive for actors who would prefer to make their own mark on a role, but neither Piterman nor Manford experience it as a constraint. “There are so many nuances in the roles,” Piterman explains. “I have Post-it notes all over my dressing room mirror, with word prompts. Every night I select one, it might be ‘cruelty’, say. And that will take my performance down a whole new direction.”
Manford agrees. “I feel like I have a lot more options in this production. In the London version, Christine is kind of led around a lot, but here I make choices at every moment.” It seems sad, somehow, that it’s taken us this long to realise that giving the female lead more agency makes things instantly more interesting, more dynamic. Piterman smiles. “If we make Christine the protagonist, it changes everything.”
Phantom of the Opera opens at the State Theatre, Melbourne Arts Centre on November 2. Tickets are on sale now via the website, and you can read Time Out Sydney’s five-star review here.