Tag Archives: Lon Chaney Phantom of the Opera

Today in Halloween: ‘Phantom of the Opera’ live

dennis james

One of the coolest live theater experiences I ever had was one October evening in the 1980s when I experienced a unique way of seeing Lon Chaney’s classic 1925 silent film “The Phantom of the Opera” – with a live organ performance.

Dennis James, at the time the resident organist for the Ohio Theatre in Columbus, Ohio, came to Muncie with a Halloween-season show he had been doing for a while: A live organ performance with the Chaney film.

dennis james halloween

I’ll never forget standing onstage before the show – by virtue of covering the event for the newspaper, I had a little access – and seeing James, a showman, walking out of the dark wings at Emens Auditorium.

Actually, my friends and I heard James first: His footsteps echoed across the stage. When we could finally see him in the still relative darkness of the stage, he was wearing a tuxedo, top hat … and Chaney Phantom mask.

Phantom_of_the_Opera_organ

James, whom I had interviewed by phone before he came to town, is a friendly guy with extensive knowledge of not only music but the Chaney film.

He performed, on the theater organ, the historic score to Chaney’s film, Watching James perform added immensely to the experience, which to this day remains one of my favorite Halloween-era memories.

Freak out: Scary stuff that haunted me

Just ask anyone who’s ever walked up behind me when I was vacuuming and they’ll tell you I’m pretty easy to freak out.

Maybe it was the combination of an overactive imagination and a childhood home that was supposedly haunted, but I’ve always been spookable. I’m not squeamish; blood and gore don’t bother me particularly, especially not in horror movies.

But subtle stuff – a shadowy figure in the distance, a pallid face outside a window – in movies really makes me squirm.

Herewith, some stuff that freaked me out in my younger, impressionable years.

Lon Chaney in the 1925 “Phantom of the Opera.” Who wouldn’t be a little freaked out by that face? Mary Philbin and I were in good company in our reactions to Chaney’s masterpiece, both in terms of his film work and his makeup work. In Famous Monsters of Filmland I read all about how Chaney achieved this cadaverous look, manipulating his nose and cheekbones and eyes. But even though I knew Chaney’s secrets, that face made an impression.

The Suicide Song on Dr. Demento. If you’re not hep to what the nerdy kids listened to in the 1970s and 1980s, Dr. Demento hosted a syndicated radio show playing offbeat songs like “Fish Heads” and “Shaving Cream.” The oddball doctor introduced a nation of youngsters to the work of Spike Jones and helped launch the career of Weird Al Yankovic. But the song that Demento played that sticks with me, 30-plus years later, was “The Suicide Song.” What was it? Incredibly enough, I can’t seem to find it online. There’s a listing of songs played on the show that includes it but I can’t find an audio or video snippet, which makes me wonder if I’m mis-remembering the name. But once I hear the song again – and its dirge-like, monotone recitation of dire lyrics – I’ll get goosebumps all over again.

“Who are you?” from “Beyond the Door.” The 1974 Italian import “Beyond the Door” was considered little more than a rip-off of “The Omen” and “The Exorcist” with its plot about demonic possession. It’s a curiosity, maybe especially because of its star, British actress Juliet Mills, best known stateside for the sugary sitcom “Nanny and the Professor.” But when I think of “Beyond the Door,” I think of the late-night commercials for the movie showing clips of Mills levitating and twisting around and – unforgettably for me – intoning in a freaky bass voice “Who are  you?” I’m battling the heebie jeebies here.

The ghosts in “The Innocents.” I’m not sure any movie is scarier than “The Innocents,” director Jack Clayton’s adaptation of Henry James’ “The Turn of the Screw.” The story of a governess going to a remote castle to take care of two truly strange children, “The Innocents” introduces a couple of the creepiest ghosts ever. And it does so in a totally freaky way: By having them stand, motionless, across ponds or outside windows.

I don’t know about you, but as far as I’m concerned, silent, unmoving figures watching me from a distance is more unnerving than a chainsaw-wielding maniac.

Unless he taps me on the shoulder while I’m running the vacuum cleaner.