The Crackpot: Phantom!

Paummm -- PA, Pa, Pa, pa, pummm -- pa, Pa, Pa, PA-Paummm!! (Think huge, pipe-organ, minor chords here, with full orchestral backup that rattles your teeth and raises goose bumps down your neck.)

Granted, it loses something when you try to translate a musical effect into the written word, but if you've ever heard any music from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera, you know what I'm striving for.

My daughter, Katie, had longed to see Phantom for years -- especially since sister Sally had already seen it twice. (And according to Katie, "No one ought to be allowed to see Phantom twice, until everyone gets to see it once!")

Soooo, to celebrate my youngest daughter's 21st birthday, I took Katie to see Phantom of the Opera at the Pantages Theatre in Toronto recently. Both of us still reel from the experience. To say it overwhelmed us is an understatement.

Never have I seen such innovative staging or opulent costuming, not to mention music that knocks your socks off. Even if you're not an "opera" fan, I guarantee you won't find this production boring. I didn't see a dry eye in the place.

The setting alone gives an unbelievable backdrop to the whole Phantom experience. The restored Pantages Theatre drips with gold leaf and rich, burgundy brocades throughout.

When we took our seats (after sitting 6½ hours on the trip up to Toronto), I must admit, that judging by the theatre's grand ambiance up to that point, the stage disappointed me. Draped in yards of dark swathing, it looked rather gloomy.

But as lights dimmed and the orchestra struck its first minor chords, an air of anticipation permeated the whole theatre -- gloomy-looking or not.

The play itself opens as an auctioneer puts theatre props and memorabilia on the auction block in a dilapidated old opera house with faded backdrops sagging and broken props strewn across the stage. After a few items sell to the highest bidders, he moves on to the next, shrouded item up for bid -- an item which had played a large part in that ancient theatre's legends -- a chandelier.

Suddenly the dusty cover pulls away, laser lights bounce back and forth through the whole theatre, and, as the chandelier bursts into light, it swoops to the ceiling, and all the gloomy swaddling disappears from the stage to reveal a grandiose opera company at the height of its magnificent, golden heyday.

Talk about a great hook!

After such an intro, I didn't know how the production could possibly get any better. Suffice it to say that in all my years of theatre-going, nothing I've seen can top this production of Phantom. (And I have seen my share of theatrical productions -- just ask my brother, whom I dragged to any number of "experimental" plays during my college years!)

I highly recommend attending live theater, by the way -- nothing quite matches the interplay of real people emoting on stage to real people reacting in the audience. You can't beat it.

Oh, did you want me to tell you the rest of the Phantom story? If I did that, it would spoil the whole ending for you, and what good is any story without a surprise ending to take your breath away?

I will tell you this much: the Phantom begins with a wallop and ends in a whisper; so much more is packed in between, I couldn't begin to tell the whole story in this limited space. Webber definitely outdid himself with this one.

Tickets for the production do cost dearly, and the theatre's booked far in advance, but if you ever get the chance to see Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom Of The Opera, in Toronto, by all means, do it! I'd gladly miss dinners for another month just to see it again!

By the way, if you hear the minor strains of Phantom blaring from a little red pickup truck as it goes through town, it's just me. (And since I lost all those clear, operatic soprano tones long ago, I'll try to control myself when I sing along.)

"The Phaaaantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!"

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