Andrew Lloyd Webber started his career with Tim Rice, who we already encountered with Disney! One of their first operas was Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, then Jesus Christ Superstar (on the presumable assumption that what works for the Old Testament will work for the New). For Webber, Evita followed, then Cats, then Phantom. Nothing since has had the sheer overwhelming-cultural-phenomenon popularity of these musicals. MIKE SAYS Evita is the only musical I've ever seen that is ONLY a musical. There are only a few spoken phrases, only a scene or two that aren't governed by the music. The action, interactions, dialog, and plot are all communicated by music, though there are only a couple genuine dance numbers.
This makes Evita an oddly powerful film, though a little hard to pick up in the middle. The trouble with the structure of the film is that it's at least 50% montage, if not more. As a result, any person walking into the film partway will be completely lost. Hell, I sometimes get lost, and it's a favorite of mine.
Madonna's performance is impressive; of course, she nails the singing, but her acting in phenomenal, so good, in fact, that it nearly helps me forget the travesty that was Dick Tracy.
The music of the film is fairly complex; you have verses that change in rhythm and speed, lines that don't always rhyme, and at least one singer who may or may not be an actual character.
Antonio Banderas's character is one of the most compelling, and cofusing, aspects of the film. He seems to be a symbolic character, who may or may not be the narrator, who represents the people, and who may or may not have actually interacted with Evita. Yet, it's completely fascinating.
While definitely unique, I think Evita is phenomenal filmmaking . . . even if half the audience is asleep by the end.
Phantom of the Opera has been a film I've avoided for some time, and all because of its infamous director. Schumacher nearly destroyed the Batman franchise with his neon-lighted, homoerotic take on the Dark Knight.
Because of this, I have avoided his work for some time. Upon finally watching Phantom, I have to reluctantly say that he was a good choice for the film. There were several things I didn't care for (among them, the fact that the film looks like it was filmed on a back lot in 2004 . . . there's little effort to convince me otherwise), but for the most part, the visual style of the director complemented the film.
The plot of the novel has been blended a bit, parts combined and moved about. Whether this follows the play or not, I can't really say. The film version, though, is definitely a spectacle, such that small things, such as plot and character development, fall into the background. With gold-painted men holding candlsticks and a mist-covered underground lake, well, it's not hard to get carried away.
The music is enjoyable and recognizable. The opening of the film is ridiculous, over-the-top, and powerful. While I was impressed with the acting of the film overall, there is one element that explains the cult success (especially here in the Mormon Corridor): Emmy Rossum. Between her incredible voice and her staggering beauty (That hair! Wow!), there is little in the film half as interesting or as memorable as she.
Overall, though, I can see how this tale has captured the attention of audiences. Between the music and the universal theme of being rejected for our hidden flaws, this Beauty and the Beast tale appeals to almost anyone.
I enjoyed the films very much, But I'm with Kate: Webber may need some help . . . and don't get me started on Shumacher.
KATE SAYS I reviewed Phantom of the Opera (2004) a few years back. As I stated in my initial review, it is a total hoot. I've seen it multiple times since I reviewed it (in 2006) plus for this review. It's still a hoot! After all, the final scene includes a man being strangled, a man sloshing through water, and a really ticked-off woman all singing their hearts out: what's not to like!
But after watching Evita (which I'd seen but had totally forgotten), I've really began to wonder about Webber's psyche. His musicals celebrate the life of a stalker, the wife of a dictator, dysfunctional cats, a muscial about Jesus Christ that emphasizes Judas Iscariot, and roller-skating trains. These all make Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat--my favorite of Webber's productions--seem downright rational in comparison. I first heard the music for Joseph when I was somewhere between seven and nine. I listened to it over and over again until I memorized all the songs (I still know them). Joseph, like Phantom, belongs to Webber's more singable musicals. (Last fall, I saw a local production that was the best version of the musical I have ever seen, including Donny Osmond's!)
Evita is not singa-longable.
In fact, Evita is really more of an "opera" than the others. While the others rely on set pieces that have entered the world of American Idol, talent shows, and elevator music, Evita's music is really more like singing dialog. Except for "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina," the "songs" aren't really all that memorable in the sing-to-myself-in-the-shower sense.
The unsettling thing about Evita, however, isn't the music but its topic. Why? Why did a British composer decide to write about the wife of an Argentinian dictator?
If Webber had written the musical even ten years later, I would have assumed he was reacting to the mind-bending adoration Britishers felt for their own dysfunctional princess, Princess Diana. (Christopher Hitchens, bless him, is one of the few British commentators who was willing to point out, long before The Queen, that Princess Diana's so-called humanitarism was threaded through with a massive degree of demanding neediness and narcissicism and that the royal family was justified in considering her something of a pain in the ass; by the way, I also feel this way about the worship of American celebrities--except Cesar Millan, who totally deserves all the fame and fortune that comes his way.)
But alas for my analysis, Evita was written before Diana married Charles. In any case, the musical--though odd--does one thing massively right: the character played by Antonio Banderas. If you are going to tell the biography of a dictator's wife, it is a very, very good idea to include a commentator. Antonio Banderas as Che reminds me of the narrator of Faulkner's short story "A Rose for Emily," who is all members of the community, past and present. "They" comment throughout the story on the community's opinions, speculations, and judgments of Emily. Che does something quite similar.
Madonna is good (Madonna is quite an extraordinary artiste although she's dropped off Hollywood's shock-radar in the past few years). And Jonathan Pryce is unbelievably amazing. He manages to convey Peron's true affection for Evita alongside his willingness to use her for his own political ends.
However, Phantom of Opera is and will always be far more memorable--for good reason. Webber's style simply doesn't lend itself to what he was trying to do with Evita: convey the full complexity of a charismatic individual. Phantom, on the other hand, is pure fairytale--and I don't mean that in a snide sense. It's myth, lore, Grimm, the dark matter of our psyches.
But then tales about stalking always are.
(Perhaps Webber should do a musical of Twilight . . . )
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