“… the production belongs to designer Gabriela Tylesova, whose work is nothing short of extraordinary. Her set and costume design is the true star of the show: grandiose and epic when it needs to be, yet capable of intimacy and atmosphere … It is a design language that understands scale, texture and theatrical magic. “
Kate Gaul
Venue: Opera Australia
Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour
Five stars for the design — which soars well above the material it’s asked to serve.
The Phantom of the Opera premiered in London in 1986, in an era of excess. Shoulder pads were big, hair was bigger, and mega-musicals — many of them by Andrew Lloyd Webber — were the spectacular cultural event of the moment. Nearly forty years on, The Phantom of the Opera remains one of the longest-running musicals in theatre history. This production is a revival of Opera Australia’s earlier outdoor staging.
The story is by now deeply familiar. Christine Daaé (a gorgeously talented Amy Manford), a dancer at the Paris Opera, is revealed to possess an extraordinary voice after the abrupt exit of the company’s prima donna, Carlotta — here played with glorious camp precision by Giuseppina Grech.) Christine is thrust into the spotlight, and on opening night her childhood friend Raoul (Jarrod Draper), now a Count, recognises her. It appears that fortune has turned in her favour. But, of course, all is not well. Her talent is not simply innate or God-given; it has been shaped by the mysterious “Angel of Music” — the Phantom (an impressive Jake Lyle) — who has been secretly tutoring her while wreaking havoc beneath the opera house. Living in the catacombs, composing music and embittered by his exile from the world above, the Phantom emerges as both mentor and menace. Both he and Raoul claim to love Christine, and the inevitable struggle for possession begins.
And that, really, is where the work sours for me.
Although The Phantom of the Opera ostensibly follows Christine’s ascent, her own story is repeatedly dwarfed by the competing desires of the two men circling her. Both seek to possess her, shape her, and define her according to their own fantasies. In the musical’s climactic moral logic, Christine’s act of salvation is not to claim herself, but to save both men through sacrifice and compassion. One cannot help but wish for another ending entirely: Christine dropping them both, stepping into her own power, and leaving to build a career as a prima donna on her own terms.
But that is not this musical. And if I rejected every work that contained problematic gender politics, I would be left in a very silent world. Patriarchy is deeply embedded in our mythologies; it saturates our cultural inheritance. What is frustrating here is not simply that these tropes exist, but that productions of canonical works so rarely attempt to interrogate or reimagine them. The fair maiden trapped in a love triangle, the men who feel entitled to her devotion, the stale old logic that a woman must be protected by one man from another — it is all drearily intact.
And yet, there is much here to celebrate.
This is a production carried by immense craft. The cast is superb, the sound and lighting design is strong, and the choreography feels genuinely fresh rather than dutifully reproduced. Simon Phillips’ direction is firm, intelligent and imaginative, giving the evening momentum and sweep while maintaining clarity of tone. Above all, the production belongs to designer Gabriela Tylesova, whose work is nothing short of extraordinary. Her set and costume design is the true star of the show: grandiose and epic when it needs to be, yet capable of intimacy and atmosphere, all while housing a cast that is not enormous. It is a design language that understands scale, texture and theatrical magic.
So yes, The Phantom of the Opera remains dramatically bound to some deeply retrograde ideas. But Opera Australia’s production offers enough visual splendour, musical force and directorial assurance to remind us why the piece has endured — even as it prompts us to ask how much longer we are willing to let these old myths go uninterrogated.
photo by Daniel Boud
Kate Gaul, Theatre Now
