 |
And some 100 million of you have seen it - at one point in 14 productions running simultaneously.
So, when the opportunity to bring a 95-minute version of The Phantom of the Opera to Las Vegas, arguably the entertainment capital of the world, presented itself, it was more than tempting, it was the invitation you couldn’t refuse.
However, how to deliver what has drawn audiences for over 20 years and at the same time make it new and surprising? This was the task facing all of us.
Supposing we start with some background. In 1985, Andrew Lloyd Webber mentioned to me his notion of musicalizing Phantom of the Opera. Usually, when the idea for a new musical arises, I immediately think of a number of reasons not to do it, why it won’t work. I think of everything as excuses, ranging from…it doesn’t sing, through…what can be added to its earlier permutations (four feature films based on an excellent novel by Gaston Leroux), to a simple …why?
On this occasion, without hesitation, I said I must be a part of it.
The Phantom, born with a facial deformity to an aristocratic family, is imprisoned in a mask as a child, by his mother! Subsequently, he tours in sideshows and becomes a court jester to the Sultan of Persia. Through his genius, he ends up designing palaces for the Shah-in-Shahs, after which he moves on to Russia and, eventually, to Paris where he is one of the architects of the Opera House.
The Phantom is also the story of a woman, a girl really, who is manipulated forcefully by three men, all of whom she loves: the Phantom, her father who has died, and a well-bred young patrician. The story traces her rite of passage.
During the year before its premiere, the authors and I worked and reworked the material; meeting in London and in New York, and I worked in both cities with its extraordinary designer, Maria Bjornson.
There were perks in this journey. The most dramatic was a trip to Paris, during which I visited the famous lake in the depths of the Opera House (five floors below the stage), and climbed to the pinnacle of the roof (five floors above), where one of our scenes takes place. There is no path going there, no handrails to hang onto, you simply scramble behind a nimble-footed Paris Opera House engineer. The wind is blowing, you don’t look down, and when you get to the top, with one foot perched on either side, you look across to the people on top of the Eiffel Tower, and below to the gridlock in the Place de l’Opera. There is a surprising room in the Opera House, which we could not include in our musical but is worth mentioning. There is, directly upstage of the theater, magnificently upholstered in red brocade on gold loveseats, a small room in which the ballet dancers entertained their rich young lovers during the performance. Times have changed!
So, what should you expect of this version at the Venetian?
- A surprising space – unlike any we have performed in before.
- A chandelier with the capacity to move as it never has before.
- A Phantom who can swing the length and breadth of the theater from that chandelier.
The massive, shiny golden facade of the Paris Opera House, several traps, and baroque murders.
There are too many people to thank for this technical achievement, but I would like to single out Paul Kelly who assumed the huge design demand when Maria Bjornson passed away and has delivered this version, and Arthur Masella, my invaluable assistant.
So, throughout this evening, look for surprises,
And…
ENJOY!
Hal Prince
|
