Here we have the second of three scenes I love from the 2004 film adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera.
The first scenes was my favorite solo from the film with Emmy Rossum as Christine Daaé performing the solo “Think of Me”. It’s a powerful scene that more than holds it’s own against the other solos in the film. The second favorite scene from this film comes in the beginning of Act II.
“Masquerade” is really the one and only true full cast and chorus production in the film and in the stage musical. While both would have songs and scenes involving multiple characters and a large of background chorus, this one pretty much cements the film’s grandiose and epic visuals.
Director Joel Schumacher may have his detractors and critics, but he definitely nails the grand masquerade ball in the opera house to begin the second half of the film.
Stage productions, especially musicals, have always drawn me. I think it goes back to my time in my final two years in high school when, on a lark, I decided to join the Drama production as part of my after-school activities. For a teenager whose never really had any experience watching musicals prior to joining one I was surprised as any to have fallen in love with the art when exposed to it.
Musicals range from classic Sondheim-style productions to the Andrew Lloyd Webber rock opera epics right up to the Matt Stone and Trey Parker comedy musicals. I love them all. One musical production that I was literally obsessed with during those late high school years was Andrew Lloyd Webber’s rock opera production of The Phantom of the Opera.
I knew the songs by heart and, even now, I still remember those final years of high school fondly because of this particular musical. So, finding out that they were going to make a film adaptation of the musical had me feeling both excited and hesitant.
How could a stage musical translate to film if they cast more for acting and less for singing?
My trepidation ended up being unfounded once I finally saw the film and was satisfied that all involved were more than up to the task of performing the iconic roles in the musical.
This first of three of my favorite scenes from The Phantom of the Opera comes early in the film as Emmy Rossum’s understudy, Christine Daaé, gets a chance to show just how much she has learned from her mysterious tutor. “Think of Me” is the one of the signature solos in the musical (the other being the Phantom’s own) and Emmy Rossum nails the scene and song. The expression on the skeptical managers in the beginning quickly turns to surprise as does the rest of the cast and crew who never realized they had a genuine ingenue in their midst.
While I will admit that the song and the scene has been pulled off better on stage, Emmy Rossum’s own experience singing as a member of the Metropolitan Opera as a child leading up to being chosen for the role of Christine Daaé more than makes her hold her own against those who came before her.
Hi, everyone! Well, as you read this, I am currently on vacation! That’s right — I put off my vacation for the entire summer because I had a job writing about Big Brother for the Big Brother Blog. Now that the show is over, I am officially on vacation for the next two weeks!
But don’t worry! Just because I’m going to be busy exploring this wonderful world of ours for the next two weeks, that doesn’t mean that I haven’t already written and scheduled several posts to keep everyone amused over the next couple of days!
Starting on October 1st, it’ll be our annual horror month here on the Shattered Lens. But, until that day, allow me to share a few dance scenes that I love and I hope that you’ll love them too!
Let’s get things started with one of my all-time favorites, Gene Kelly ad Cyd Charisse dancing in the Broadway Melody scene from 1952’s Singing in the Rain!
Like our intrepid TV correspondent, Patrick Smith, I also watched the Emmy Awards last night. There were bits of the show that I liked and there was a lot about the show that I didn’t care for. I felt that Andy Samberg fell flat as host. I thought that a lot of the acceptance speeches were so dull that I considered them to be a personal attack on anyone watching. (I’m looking in your direction, Lisa Cholodenko.) The political posturing felt shallow, as it often does at the Emmy awards.
(Even the political speeches that did work often seemed like they were being wasted on a crowd that has no concept of self-awareness. Viola Davis made a passionate, timely, and articulate plea for diversity but it’s hard not to feel that, even though all the white liberals in the room patted themselves on the back for listening to her and applauding, that’s probably all that they’re going to do.)
And yet I was happy because Veep — my absolute favorite show — finally won for Best Comedy! I love Veep because it’s a show where everyone in politics — regardless of party or ideology — is revealed to be either a terrible human being or totally and completely ineffectual. Julia Lous-Dreyfus won the Emmy for Best Comedy Actress while Tony Hale picked up his second consecutive supporting award.
The only disappointment in Veep‘s victory? Anna Chlumsky did not win the Emmy for Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy. This season of Veep was truly Chlumsky’s season! The scene below — which is today’s scene that I love — shows Chlumsky at her absolute best. In this scene, Chlumsky’s Amy Brookhiemer finally reaches her breaking point as she realizes that her boss, President Selina Meyer (Louis-Dreyfus), essentially stands for nothing.
Even though most of us will never work for or even know a President, I think we can all relate to Amy’s feelings. And, seriously — who hasn’t wanted to tell someone off as beautifully as Amy does here?
For this scene alone, Anna Chlumsky deserves all the awards in the world!
I think Lisa Marie and I could spend hundreds of hours just talking about history. While I love history in general, I do admit that military history has been a particular fascination of mine. Some would say that I’m just being bloodthirsty. That I’m reveling in the worst aspects of humanity. I would strongly disagree with that opinion.
Military history is not just about rehashing the cold facts and figures of battles, wars and conflict. It’s a type of history that gives people a window to the past. A past we could learn from so as not to repeat the same mistakes in the future. It’s not even the death and destruction shown through historical writing by aficionados and academia.
With PBS re-airing Ken Burns’ The Civil War this week we get to witness one of the great triumphs in filmmaking 25 years after it first aired in 1990. It’s a documentary that gives us an everyman’s look at the cause, effect and consequence of the bloodiest war in American history. A war that would shape the American consciousness for generations to come. It was also a war that pit brother against brother, fathers against sons and lifelong friends against each other as battlefields across the states and territories of the United States flowed with the blood of Americans.
One of the great things about this documentary series is how it doesn’t just rely on the facts and figures of this historical event in American history, but the personal voices of individuals who participated in the war and it’s periphery. These voices (as narrated by stars such as Morgan Freeman, Sam Waterston, Jason Robards, Julie Harris, Arthur Miller and George Plimpton to name a few) adds an poignant and personal touch to what could’ve been a very dry and academic exercise.
One of the best scenes in the series arrives at the end of the first day of five for the series. It’s a letter from one Union officer Sullivan Ballou to his wife a week before he participates in the war’s first major engagement, the First Battle of Bull Run.
Sullivan Ballou’s Letter
July the 14th, 1861
Washington D.C.
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine O God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing—perfectly willing—to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.
But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows—when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children—is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death—and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.
I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and “the name of honor that I love more than I fear death” have called upon me, and I have obeyed.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me—perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar—that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.
It’s also Dario Argento’s 75th birthday! And what better way to celebrate the maestro‘s birthday than with a scene that I love?
The opening of Argento’s 1977 masterpiece, Suspiria, is about as perfect an opening as one could hope for. American ballet student Suzy Banyon (Jessica Harper) arrives in Frieburg, Germany. Both Argento and Harper perfectly portray Suzy’s confusion as she makes her way through the airport and, as torrential rain drenches her, attempts to hail a taxi and get a ride to the dance academy. (What Suzy doesn’t know, of course, is that the dance academy is home to the ancient witch known as Our Mother of Sighs.) With this opening scene, Argento both immediately establishes the off-center, nightmarish atmosphere of Suspiria and establishes Suzy as a character who we, as the audience, relate to and care about. Suspiria is a great film and it all begins with this brilliant opening.
Sometimes a scene in a film doesn’t need any dialogue to be able to convey emotion and character development the story requires. One such film that does a great job of using wordless sequences to let the audience in on the characters motivations and agendas is Steve McQueen’s Shame.
I could’ve picked from so many different scenes this film had to offer. Yet, it was the wordless scene of flirting, attraction and seduction between Michael Fassbender’s Brandon and an unnamed woman sitting across from him in the subway car. With Harry Escott’s score setting up the scene, McQueen allows the two players (Brandon and the unnamed woman) to use furtive glances and flirtatious looks to convey the attraction between these two beautiful individuals.
Even how the woman’s seemingly brief acceptance of what Brandon’s unspoken invitation suddenly turned into something of regret spoke volume in the scene. While Brandon’s sexual addiction has made him a sort of junkie looking to find his next fix wherever he can find it, the woman realizes in the end that maybe, maybe Brandon’s invitation is something she shouldn’t accept on a whim.
It’s later in the film that we find out the woman is now engage (or has been) and the tables has been turned with her now more confident in what she wants and Brandon now the one hesitating.
I know that many people probably have other scenes from Shame they would consider their favorite, but this one definitely is mine.
Another childhood hero has passed on undertake the last great journey. Rowdy Roddy Piper might have played the greatest of heels when he was in WWF (now WWE) as I grew up during the 80’s, but he was also a favorite wrestler and character. He seemed genuine in both attitude and charisma where I thought Hulk Hogan was all bluster and fake.
I’m sure I won’t be the only one to miss the Hot Rod. I pay tribute to the Man and the Legend in my own way by sharing one of the best moments of Roddy Piper’s career. It’s the greatest fight scene ever put on celluloid.
Anyone who says differently gets a boot to the face.
Michael Peña was, for me, a major highlight in the recent Marvel Studios film, Ant-Man. His role as Scott Lang’s former cellmate and buddy once out of San Quentin was the linchpin of the film’s comedy side. Michael Peña has had quite a string of very good work on the dramatic side of things (End Of Watch and Fury), yet he has also done some great comedic work.
One great comedic turn comes from the little-seen, but very funny dark comedy, Observe and Report. This film has earned a negative reputation due to one scene between Seth Rogen’s character and that of Anna Faris. But that’s a scene that doesn’t bring me back time and time again to watch this cult classic in the making.
Michael Peña’s character is a fellow shopping mall security guard by the name of Dennis Shavante and he’s sort of the right hand man to Seth Rogen’s bipolar Ronnie Barnhardt who also happens to be a fellow security guard. Peña’s scene in the middle of the film right before he takes Ronnie under his wing was one of the funnier monologues I’ve watched on the big-screen in many years. The follow-up postcard narration later in the film just became the icing on that monologue’s cake.
Here’s the postcard monologue to make it easier to understand one Dennis Shavante.
Dennis Shavante: Whatsup mo’fackle? How’s your dick hanging? Low I hope. I just wanted to write you and say that, you know I really am sorry for the way shit like went down and stuff, my bad, my blunder. I just wanted you to know that you really are my best friend. Problem is I’m a criminal man who doesn’t care and your crime is… you care too much. Regardless of our differences, I hope you know that I always respected you. It’s not every day that you meet someone who stands for something in this world. Anyway, no hard feelings okay, but if you ever want to party, just get your ass to Mexico, the beers are cool and the girls are wet.
Through the Shattered Lens 