All language subtitles for The Last Drive-in with Joe Bob Briggs S33E01 Phantom of the Opera 1925 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP2 0 H 264-BFM_track3_[eng]

-♪ Hey, everybody,
have you heard the news? ♪

♪ Joe Bob is back in town ♪

♪ He's over at the drive-in,
hanging around ♪

♪ Watching crazy movies,
so come on down ♪

♪ To Joe Bob's
"Last Drive-In" show ♪

♪ Blood, beasties,
boobies, and more ♪

♪ Joe Bob's
"Last Drive-In" show ♪

♪ It's a spooky good time
with monsters and ghosts ♪

♪ Crazy, kooky fun with
the world's greatest host ♪

♪ Joe Bob's
"Last Drive-In" show ♪

♪ It's gonna be legendary ♪

♪ Joe Bob's
"Last Drive-In" show ♪

♪ It's gonna be very scary ♪

♪ Joe Bob's
"Last Drive-In" show ♪

♪ Let's go ♪

-"Feast your eyes,

glut your soul

on my accursed ugliness."
-Yeah.

-Is that the most famous
title card in movie history?

It's too bad we never
got to hear Lon Chaney

actually speak it,
because apparently he was quite

a thespian on the live stage.

But happy birthday,
"Phantom of the Opera."

It has been a 100 years, and we
are here tonight to celebrate

what most people regard as the
greatest American horror flick

of the silent era.

It's actually the movie

that took the horror business
away from Germany

and brought it back to America,
where it belongs.

-Whoo!
-"Feast your eyes,

glut your soul
on my accursed ugliness,"

are the words of Lon Chaney
when his mask is ripped off.

And Lon Chaney is the first,
last, and only movie monster

who did his own makeup.

And he was so determined
to create his accursed ugliness

on screen that he actually
tortured himself.

He mangled his own face to get
the result that he wanted.

I don't know how many film
versions of "Phantom"

exist today.

More than 30, I think.
-At least, yeah.

-But I don't think any of them

come anywhere close to Chaney
in terms of makeup.

He was actually
a good-looking man,

unrecognizable under
that makeup.

Has anybody ever done better,
Darcy?

-No, never.

-Darcy the Mail Girl,
ladies and gentlemen.

Ah.

-One of the most die-hard
"Phantom of the Opera" fans

in the universe,
ready to preside over

social media for the centennial.

Send in your tweets,
your e-mails, your DMs,

your Instas, your TikToks.

How many times have
you watched "Phantom"?

-Oh, gosh, I don't know.

Like at least 50.
-50? Damn.

-At leas, yeah.
They used to show it

at the Silent Movie Theater
in LA.

-And you were a regular there,
right?

Do they still have that?
The Silent Movie Theater?

-No, actually,
the theater is still there,

but they went out of business
back in 2017.

I tried to buy it, actually.

-You tried to buy it?
-It's a long story. Anyway.

-Well, Darcy, I had no idea.

You really do love silent film.
-I do.

-And you told me
that you have actually touched

Lon Chaney's makeup case?

-Oh, gosh, no,
I didn't touch it.

I went to the museum
to look at it.

-That new Academy Museum
I've been wanting to go...?

-Yeah. No, wait.

Actually, the makeup case
is actually

at the Natural History Museum.

- The one with the dinosaurs?
- Yes.

-The La Brea Tar Pits
and all that?

-That's the one.

-So they consider
Lon Chaney's makeup

part of naturalhistory?

-Obviously. Yes.

-See, that's how awesome he is.

California school children
go to the museum

and they learn,
"Hey, here's a T-Rex.

Here's a triceratops.

And here, boys and girls,

is the makeup kit
of horror actor Lon Chaney,

because he changed
the world with that makeup."

Seriously,
why do they have it there?

-It's LA.

-That's your explanation
for a lot of things.

-It's LA.
-"It's LA."

How many actors today
in major motion pictures

do their own special-effects
makeup?

-Zero.

-Have there been any actors
other than him that do that?

-Um, I think there are a few,

but they're more in, like,
the low-budget pictures.

It's not -- often you don't
have a choice.

You just have to
make it work yourself.

-Because Jack Pierce did
all the Universal monsters,

but he never did Chaney.

I think he consulted
on the Chaney films,

but he didn't do
the actual makeup.

-And I think Lon Chaney
directed

the reveal scene of his makeup.

-I have heard that story.
-Yeah.

-when Christine rips off
the Phantom's mask,

supposedly, Mary Philbin,
who played Christine,

was not reacting
in the right way,

so Cheney waited till
Rupert Julian, the director,

went home for the day.
Cheney hated Rupert Julian.

He wouldn't talk to him.

The cinematographer
had to carry messages

back and forth
between the two men.

So Cheney waits till
Julian is gone for the day,

and he calls the crew
back together,

and he improvs with Mary Philbin

until he gets the exact reaction
to the makeup that he wants.

Anyway, I'm still
a little boggled by the fact

that you were a regular
at the Silent Movie Theater.

-What? Why?
-I guess -- I guess that was

the last place in the world

that was still showing
silent films, right?

-I don't know about that,
but It was a really great place.

I loved it.

-One of the real tragedies
of history

is that 80% of the silent films
are lost.

And actually, the version
of "Phantom of the Opera"

that we're about
to watch tonight

is not the original version
seen at the official premiere

at the Astor Theatre
in Times Square

on September the 6th, 1925.

That version
does not exist anymore.

It's lost.
Um, I'll get to that later.

And actually,
the original version is not

really the original version.

The very first version
of "Phantom"

was shown at the 2,000-seat
California Theatre

in downtown LA
on January 7th of that year.

And the audience hated it.

So universal did re-shoots
and re-edits

and showed it again
three weeks later,

and the test audience
hated it even more.

And do you know the reason

that the test audiences
hated the movie, Darcy?

-Uh, because they
didn't like Christine kissing

the Phantom at the end.

-Exactly.
But not only that,

they didn't think
the Phantom should be allowed

to liveat the end of the movie.

-I love the Phantom.
The Phantom is a badass.

-Well, the original audiences
in 1925 thought

that he deserved nothing less
than the death penalty.

-'Cause he's ugly.

-So Carl Laemmle,
the head of Universal,

told Rupert Julian
to change the ending.

And Rupert Julian
didn't want to do it.

He pointed out
that the Phantom does not die

at the end
of Gaston Leroux's novel.

There's a suggestion that maybe
he commits suicide much later.

But really, it doesn't matter,
because in the novel,

he redeems himself
after Christine kisses him.

He feels the power
of unconditional love,

and it's so powerful that he
tells Christine to marry Raoul,

and the test audiences said,
"Fuck unconditional love!

Murder his ass!"

And so they took a subplot,

and they kind of wedged it
into the main story,

and they had
Edward Sedgwick direct it.

He normally did
quickie Westerns.

And once you had the Phantom
being killed by a mob,

the movie tested
through the roof

and actually became
the most successful movie

in Universal history
up to that time.

-People are awful.

-True.
And that's my point,

because apparently the Phantom
has to die because...he's ugly?

He can't redeem himself.
He's too ugly.

So tonight, we're celebrating
the 100th anniversary

of the movie that explores
the theme of ugliness.

And, 'cause there are lots
of reasons to hate the Phantom.

He's sneaky, he's violent,
he's controlling,

he's willing to commit murder
to get what he wants.

But the main reason
audiences hate him is he's ugly.

So in Gaston Leroux's book,

he's described as
a "living skull,"

and Chaney tried to live up
to that description.

He raised his cheekbones
with cotton

stuffed inside his mouth
and collodion on the outside.

Collodion is a very flammable,
syrupy substance

that creates the appearance
of scarred skin when it dries.

He glued his ears
to the side of his head.

He used a skull cap to make his
forehead several inches higher,

and then he flat-pressed
stringy, black hair across it.

He exaggerated the creases
in his brow with a black pencil.

He painted the outer parts
of his eye sockets black,

and then he put
white highlights around that

to make it look like
a skeleton head.

He used a rotting set
of false teeth

and put prongs in them

to hold his mouth open wide
at all times.

He distorted his lips
and face with grease paint,

and worst of all,

he put putty around his nose
to sharpen the angle,

and then he inserted two loops
of wire into his nostrils

to make them flare.

Then he attached
additional wires to his nose

and the skull cap
hidden by putty

to yank those nostrils upward.

So all of these effects
were quite painful,

and in some scenes
they had to stop shooting

because of his bleeding.

The makeup was so shocking
and so integral to the story

that Carl Laemmle gave
strict orders

that no pictures of the Phantom

would be released prior
to the opening of the film.

So, Darcy...
-Yes.

-...do you think
the Lon Chaney Phantom is

the definition of ugly?

-What? No, of course not.
He's beautiful.

And, Christine -- let's be real.

She is a bitch for freaking out
that much when he's unmasked.

Like, for real.
Then later, oh, my God,

when she stops to wonder
if she should destroy

the whole city rather than
hook up with an uggo?

Girl, come on.

That bugs me so much.

-All right.
Yeah, I agree with you

that the moral choices
of Christine

never get questioned, do they?
Uh, but --

-I'm questioning it.

-Because she's beautiful,
and the --

and in the opinion of most
people, he is not beautiful.

All right.
-That's messed up.

-Here's what we're gonna do,
though.

We're gonna spend the night
deciding what is ugly,

as horror professionals,

because if you're, say,
a fashion designer

or really anybody
dealing with body products,

you have to constantly ask
yourself the question,

"What is beautiful?"

And our idea of what is
beautiful changes over time.

And different cultures have
different ideas of beauty.

So I assume that different
cultures have

different ideas of ugly as well.

When you adapt the Gaston Leroux
no vel to the screen,

the first thing
you have to decide is,

what do we want
the Phantom to look like

when he gets unmasked?

Because the novel makes it clear

that he's the smartest person
in the world,

he's the most resourceful person
in the world,

the most talented magician,
most talented architect,

performer, engineer.

He can do anything,

but he happens to be
the ugliest person in the world.

Not because something happened
to him.

He was just born that way.

So this is a dream project
for whoever does

the special-effects makeup.

You're gonna go crazy
on ugliness,

but when you do that,

you're gonna reveal
things about yourself

'cause it's just what you find
to be the definition of ugly.

So at the first break, I'm
gonna bring out Shane Morton.

Whoo!

-Shane does production design
for us, makeup,

art direction, set building
here at "The Last Drive-In."

He is a man of many talents.

And I am gonna ask Shane
to take a lucky volunteer

and ugly him up during the show.

But not just any volunteer.

Shane is going to apply
makeup to Spencer Charnas,

founder and frontman
of Ice Nine Kills,

the horror-themed metal band.

They are now touring
with Metallica, in fact...

-Whoo!
-...and putting out
awesome albums.

They just have one awesome album
after another.

And the reason I chose Spencer
is that

he's one of the best-looking
guys in show business.

Classic good looks.

And so it's an especially tough
challenge for Shane

to turn him into the world's
ugliest human being.

Okay.
And then while we're doing that,

I'm also gonna be
showing various photos of actors

who have played the Phantom
throughout history

so that we can see
what they perceive to be ugly,

hideous, revolting.

Supposedly, the Lon Chaney
makeup made women

faint from shock.

So if he could do that in 1925,

let's see what these guys could
do in subsequent generations

when they had a lot more tools
at their disposal.

Like, okay, look at this one.
Put it up, Austin.

This is the face of Claude Rains
in the 1943 remake.

Jack Pierce was really motivated
to just destroy the face,

but the studio said no,

they didn't want
the makeup to be too intense.

So, and they even created
a ridiculous backstory

about the Phantom
being a frustrated composer

who strangles a music publisher,

and that causes
the publisher's assistant

to throw acid in his face.

Gaston Leroux would
have hated that.

The whole idea is
that the Phantom is born ugly.

He's not unlucky.
He's not a victim.

The only thing
that distinguishes him

from all other men
is that he was born

with an unattractive face.

So what do you think of the
Claude Rains makeup, Darcy?

-He's just a handsome man
with a really big scar.

-Exactly.
And remember this one?

-Oh, my God.
Gerard Butler in the musical?

Give me a fricking break, man.

-I think it's even less glopola
than the Claude Rains makeup.

-Yeah. Get out of here,
Gerard Butler.

How can we possibly think
that's a hideous monster?

-Come on.
-Yeah. They weren't trying

very hard in the musical.
-No.

-What do you think is ugly?

-Oh, wow.
That is a very deep question.

-Well, it is, but it's
the question for tonight,

so take some time to think
that over.

-All right.
-Let's get this party started.

We are about to watch the
sensitive story of a musician,

engineer, architect, magician
who lives five levels down

from the Garnier Opera House
in Paris,

next to an underground lake

where he hides his hideous face
from civilization

with his movements
causing rumors

that there's a ghost
in the building.

Unfortunately
for everybody in the cast,

but fortunately for the story,

he falls in love with a young
opera singer named Christine

and manipulates everything
above ground to make sure that,

"A," she becomes famous
and "B," he possesses her.

Now, you would think it
would be easier to possess her

if she does not become famous.

But the Phantom logic
is mysterious

because of his own great talent
as a singer and musician,

the Phantom is
able to coach her to greatness

without ever revealing
his own face.

Meanwhile, a boring but handsome
young count falls in love

with her as well,
causing her great anguish

as she's forced to choose
between the man

who controls her career
and the man who's hot.

Christine really agonizes
over that,

and the stakes get higher and
higher as the bodies pile up.

Does that about sum it up,
Darcy?

-Not really, but Christine is
a little bit of an airhead,

don't you think?
-I would agree with that,
actually.

Mary Philbin was that actress.

Not an airhead in real life,
but yeah.

So let's look at those
Drive-In Totals and get started.

We have...

Drive-In Academy Award
nominations for...

Arthur Edmund Carewe
as Inspector Ledoux

for wearing a fez
and black eyeliner

and getting away with it.

Norman Kerry
as the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny

for chasing after Christine
and for owning a barouche.

Mary Philbin as Christine Daaé
for heaving her bosom

and for deciding
that being an opera star

isn't worth a relationship
with the Phantom.

And, of course, Lon Chaney,

the Man of a Thousand Faces,
as the Phantom

for creating the Phantom's
iconic look

and for doing more
with his hands and eyes

than many actors
could do with words.

Four stars.
Joe Bob says, check it out.

-Yay.

-I'll tell you what's ugly.

-Yeah?

-I was just reminded of it.

The Astor Theatre,

where this movie premiered,

and three other theaters
on Times Square

were all torn down so they could
build the Marriott Marquis.

Have you been
in the Marriott Marquis?

That high-rise with the atrium

where people periodically
commit suicide?

Far be it from me to criticize
the Marriott Corporation,

but really?!

FourTheater District theaters?

are we really better off
that we have a high-rise

where people can get
a better view

of Ryan Seacrest once a year?

-Are you asking me?
-Yes.

-Oh, um,
Ryan Seacrest is fine.

-Four classic Broadway
theaters, Darcy!

So you can order a $30 cocktail
in a revolving restaurant!

-Oh, yes. That -- That is sad.

-It's abominable, Darcy!
It's an outrage!

-It's true. Calm down, Man.
-I can't!

-I've never seen you wear a hat
like that before.

-Oh, yeah.

This is called a straw boater.

Popular in the '20s.

I was trying to get a look

that was like the 1925 premiere
of "Phantom of the opera."

And so, you know, tweed -- like,
Yale fraternity is what this is.

-Yeah.
-And then the jodhpurs.

Erich von Stroheim.
You know, they wore these.

They have thighs, giant thighs.
I don't know why.

-Nice.
-Anyway, what is your --

what are you going for here?

-Oh, well,
I was attempting '20s flapper.

Didn't...
-That's flappery.

-I mean,
it's flapper adjacent.

-No, that qualifies as flapper.

-We're '20s-y.
-Yeah.

-More or less.

-Lot going on
in these early scenes,

which appear to have been shot
in the actual Paris Opera House,

but actually,
they built the Paris Opera House

on the Universal backlot!
Stage 28,

where they constructed
the interior of the Paris Opera,

plus the grand staircase
made of marble,

was such a famous set

that it became
a tourist attraction

long before the Universal
theme park even existed.

At the time that
Gaston Leroux wrote the novel,

t he Paris Opera House was
the largest

and most famous
opera house in the world,

and the Paris Opera House set
was the largest

and most famous
movie set in the world.

Uh, one thing
I never understood --

I thought it was kind of
a fictional stretch --

is how the Phantom could hide
himself in an opera house.

I mean, I've -- I've performed
in many opera houses.

For much of America's history,

every city and small town
had an opera house.

And in many places,

the opera house became
the downtown movie theater.

And even in the ones
with massive dressing rooms

and offices under the stage
and lower levels,

you never think, "Wow.

If somebody's set up camp
right over there,

they could go undetected
for years."

You just don't think that.

But that was
before I knew the dimensions

of the Paris Opera House.

It was built
by architect Charles Garnier.

He was commissioned
by Emperor Napoleon III,

who died before
it actually opened in 1878.

But Napoleon's idea was to make
it the grandest opera house

in the world, and he succeeded.

First of all, it has 17 floors.

Five of those floors
are cellars and sub-cellars.

It goes down five stories
into the ground.

And when they were
excavating,

they discovered
an underground river down there.

So there are nine lakes
under the opera house,

and they diverted much
of that water into two tanks

that hold 22,000 gallons

that they use internally
at the opera.

There are 14 furnaces
down there.

That's got to add to
the creepiness.

There are 2,531 doors
in the building,

requiring 7,593 keys.
-Wow.

-There are dressing rooms
for 500 performers.

There's a stable for 12 horses

that they used
in various productions.

So it's no wonder that legends
grew up around this building.

It was one of --
and it was one of those legends

that Gaston Leroux heard
when he got the idea

for "Phantom of the Opera."

"Phantom of the Opera"
was a newspaper serial, uh,

starting at the end of 1909,
continuing into 1910.

It was serialized in the daily
newspaper "Le Gaulois."

Um, and it was
not well-reviewed.

And in fact, I would say
it's a very flawed novel,

possibly because
it was written in installments.

Nevertheless, anybody
who was familiar

with the Garnier opera House
in the year 1910

would have not
been surprised that

somebody could hide underneath
it for years, if not decades.

Now, you'll notice there's a lot
of trap doors in the movie.

I think they used them just to
economize on the storytelling.

It's easier to get somebody
from one level

to the next without having
to shoot them going

up and down stairways.

I should also point out that
Gaston Leroux was a journalist,

and he was doing a sort of
"Blair Witch" thing

with the story.

The book is a collection
of documents, depositions,

testimonies,
accounts by narrators

who may or may not be reliable.

He was implying that
the whole story was nonfiction,

which was possible with
the original ending,

not possible
with the Universal ending.

Anyway, the most successful
Universal film

prior to "Phantom" was
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame,"

which came out in 1923,
also starring Lon Chaney.

And that's why,
when Carl Laemmle happened

to meet Gaston Leroux in Paris,

and he got a copy
of the "Phantom" novel,

he knew right away
he wanted to make that movie

because it had all the same
elements -- a Paris landmark,

a deformed outcast living
inside the Paris landmark

in love with a beautiful woman.

Of course, the difference was
that "Hunchback"

was written by Victor Hugo,

one of the greatest
French writers who ever lived.

And "Phantom" was written
by a flashy news reporter

who occasionally wrote
detective stories.

So, no matter.

Laemmle assigned his top
writing team to the project.

His hottest director
at the time, Rupert Julian,

a New Zealander
who had just been brought in

to save a movie called
"Merry-Go-Round"

after Erich von Stroheim
went crazy over-budget

and had to be fired.

Rupert Julian was well known
as an actor as well,

but mainly because he was a dead
ringer for Kaiser Wilhelm II.

He had starred as the Kaiser

in a movie called
"The Kaiser: Beast of Berlin."

Uh, but Rupert Julian was a lot
like the Kaiser in real life.

He was a strict,
by-the-book disciplinarian,

always perfectly coiffed,
groomed, and dressed.

I've done a little bit
of a Rupert Julian
with this, you know?

Kind of guy
who wore spats over his shoes,

you know, kind of a dandy
with an overbearing attitude.

And as I said before,
Cheney hated him,

and he ended up
refusing to talk to him.

The two men communicated
through messages

that were carried back and forth
by the cinematographer,

Charles Van Enger.

Anyway, Carl Laemmle found
the book.

He set about making it
the next big Lon Cheney role.

But he had one big problem --

Cheney was an MGM
contract player.

He had to go to MGM,
hat in hand,

and asked to borrow him
for an undisclosed sum.

But finally,
on May the 17th, 1924,

Laemmle was able to announce

at a sales conference
in New York City

that Cheney had been secured

for the next big prestige
Universal movie.

And then Laemmle would go on
to spend $2 million

on the movie itself, probably
an equal amount on promotion.

So to give you some perspective,
in 2025 terms,

that would amount to
about $74 million.

But here's what makes
that number truly astounding.

The same studio was
turning out five-reel Westerns,

many of them starring
Hoot Gibson,

for $12,000 per movie.

And part of Laemmle's
promotion for the movie

was Stage 28 itself.

There were pictures
in the newspapers and magazines

when the Llewellyn steel company
poured the concrete.

There was publicity
when the Hammond Lumber Company

provided trucks carrying
the largest lumber order

in the history of their company.

Universal employees were sent
to Europe

to buy and/or photograph
interior objects

that could be used on the sets.

Ben Carré,
a Hollywood art director

who had worked
at the Paris Opera,

created 24 charcoal sketches
of locales in the novel

that were re-created
down to the smallest detail.

So from the very beginning,

"The Phantom of the Opera"
was perceived

as the biggest event
in the history of Hollywood.

They even shot part of it
in color,

using a natural color process
called Prizma for the opening,

early Technicolor
for the masked ball,

and some other weird
color process for the scene

on the roof with the gargoyles.

Okay, I'm gonna talk
this movie to death

if I don't shut up.

So, uh, is Spencer ready?

Hey, Spencer.

-What's up, Joe Bob?

-Welcome to "The Last Drive-In."

-Thanks for having me.
I'm ready to get ugly here.

-Shane here
is about to turn your face

into the ultimate definition
of ugly.

-Super ugly.
-Super ugly.

-And I want to keep
the makeup on.

I've got a flight to catch,

so hopefully I scare some
of the flight attendants.

-Yeah, TSA is gonna love that.

Yeah, I'm already
on the no-fly list.

-Well, I've seen
Ice Nine Kills live,

where you reproduce iconic
horror films in amazing detail.

And I've been to
your horror convention in Salem,

Massachusetts,
or right next door to Salem.

Uh, I've been in one
of your horror-based videos.

And I have to say, Spencer,

Ice Nine Kills is the nexus
between metal and horror.

-And now I'm gonna have
the face to prove it.

-And Shane,
I know you idolize Lon Chaney.

-Since I saw him on PBS
when I was five.

I've had this tattoo since '92.

Sometimes it scares me
when I wake up with it there.

So, yeah. Lon Chaney is my god.

-And you actually teach
makeup classes based on

many of the techniques
that Lon Chaney originated?

-I do. Like, when I --
when I teach these classes,

you got to start off
with the foundation

of where all this stuff
comes from,

and Lon Chaney's
"Phantom of the Opera makeup,

this buildup of the ocular
ridge, all this stuff,

it's bringing out the skull
beneath the skin.

And it's still the foundation
for every zombie makeup.

And Rick Baker did
for "Thriller,"

to, like "Walking Dead"
or whatever.

It all comes from Lon Chaney.

He is the first
and the greatest.

-So this will be
your personal statement

of the most repulsive face
you can imagine?

-Yes,
beyond gruesome and weird.

And go a little bit further.

And we'll be using
out-of-the-kit techniques

totally for this.

So there are no pre-built
prosthetics or anything.

I've made some skin textures
and things to get weird,

but we're gonna try
to keep it to the way

that Lon Chaney would
have done it if he had silicone.

-Okay, and guys,
we have a surprise for you.

We have a live shot
of the crypt of Lon Chaney,

which is
at the Forest Lawn Cemetery

in Glendale, California,
but it's unmarked.

You have to know where it is.

So we had one of our associates,
Alex Poteet,

go down to Forest Lawn today
and find it

because Shane and Spencer,

when we finally reveal
your makeup

at the end of tonight's show,

I'm gonna ask Lon Chaney
for a sign.

We'll see if it works.

I don't think anyone
has ever tried to séance

that unmarked crypt,

but we are trying
to do that tonight.

Lon Chaney will be your judge,
Shane.

How does that make you feel?

-Well, you know,
it's a lot on my plate,

but I've always said
Lon Chaney shall never die.

So I feel like he's always
been watching over me anyway.

So here we go.

-So, Shane,
your mission is to turn Spencer

into the ugliest creature alive.

Did you sign a release, Spencer?

-I signed an NDA, but I don't
think I got a release.

-All right, men,
we will be checking with you

as the night goes on.

Good luck.

Darcy, I want to incorporate
other Phantoms

into our experience tonight.
-Okay.

-So to start it off, I want --

I want you to tell me what you
think about two of the Phantoms

from "Phantom" history.

The first one is from the
1955 "Phantom of the Operetta,"

an Argentinian musical comedy.

And were they even trying
with this?

-No comment here.

-All right.
Beneath contempt, right?

Basically a Phantom with acne.

Okay, but here's the
Hammer Films version,

1962, with Herbert Lom.

What do you think of this?

-It's in the film for,
like, less than a minute.

The death mask is what's
really iconic from that.

-Well, they definitely gouged
some flesh for that.

But what I don't like is
they invented a backstory

for Herbert Lom whereby
he gets splashed with acid

and abused by his partner, and
so they create fake sympathy.

The whole idea is supposed
to be born ugly, no explanation.

Do you like this one, though,
Darcy?

-The Lon Phantom
is more victim than monster.

The disfigurement is
not what's important.

He is just an outsider.

And his burn is
a physical symbol of that.

-Agreed.
And I think that's enough

"Phantom of the Opera"
from our team.

So let's get back to
the sensation of 1925,

"The Phantom of the Opera."

Do you know what else
burns my bacon?

-Tell me.

-They tore down Stage 28...

-Oh, girl.
-...in 2014.

-I know, man. I was devastated.
Like, legit.

-You know, it had already been
rebuilt and improved in 1966

when Alfred Hitchcock made
"Torn Curtain."

And then it had been used
for all kinds

of other movies as well.

But you know what's there now?

-Super Nintendo World.
-Exactly!

-I know, I'm so conflicted.
-Super fucking Nintendo World.

They use it for meet-and-greets
with Toad.

-But also Princess Peach!

Oh, my God. Okay, for real.

When I take the Mario Brothers
ride with my kid,

we have a little ritual.

-You shouldn't take
the Mario Brothers ride.

-Exactly. I'm conflicted, man.

So what we do is we say
a little prayer for Stage 28

before we go,
and then it's okay.

-And you cross yourselves?
-Yes.

-Damn, Darcy, I'm --
-Forgive us.

-I'm sorry you have to
experience that trauma, though.

-Thank you.

-Lon Chaney wept.
-I know.

-And so the Phantom
entrances Christine --

she's walking like a zombie --

and takes her deep into
the dark underground caverns

and the black lakes to his lair.

And, of course,
we still haven't seen his face.

The early audiences didn't know
that he was disfigured

because the novel was
not that well known,

which made the reveal scene
all the more powerful.

But this would be a good place

to talk about the actress
who played Christine.

Mary Philbin was born

in the tiny Irish village
of Cloonliffen,

population 51...
-Wow.

-...and 11 of those 51
were her family members.

But her parents moved to Chicago
when she was three years old,

and she discovered
the stage as a small girl.

And she was not like any
of the other young starlets

in Hollywood, though.

She was extremely close
to her family.

She was very religious.

She was so close to her family

that when she got cast
in her first film,

"The Blazing Trail,"
at the age of 19,

the whole family moved with her
to Los Angeles.

The Philbins were friends
of the Laemmle family,

owners of Universal,
so she moved up quickly.

She made six films
her first year.

She got noticed
in an Erich von Stroheim movie

called "Foolish Wives."

It was the most expensive
Universal film up to that time.

Her breakout role was
"The Merry-Go-Round" in 1923,

the movie that was directed
by Erich von Stroheim

until he was fired

and Rupert Julian was
brought in to finish it.

She played the peasant girl
working as an organ grinder

in a Vienna amusement park,

and a playboy count
falls in love with her,

but is already engaged to the
daughter of the Minister of War,

and because of court etiquette,

he is forced to go ahead
with that marriage,

and she thinks
she's been deserted.

But then she reunites
with her lover

after a series of
wartime melodramatic episodes,

and he renounces his title
in order to be with her.

So the count was played
by Norman Kerry,

the actor who again plays
a count, Raoul,

in "Phantom of the Opera."

Um, Raoul is one of the most
boring characters ever invented.

I mean, he doesn't do much
except wait around for Christine

and deal with
her fickle choices.

But Kerry does as well
as he can with it.

Kerry was a high school football
star growing up on Long Island

and became good friends
with Rudolph Valentino,

while Valentino was
still a taxi dancer in New York

long before he discovered
Hollywood.

And Kerry had also been
the romantic lead

in "The Hunchback
of Notre Dame."

So Norman Kerry and
Mary Philbin knew each other,

got along very well together,

but she never really got along
with Julian, the director.

He didn't like her performances.

He would do endless retakes
to the point that Van Enger,

the cinematographer,
told Julian

he was ruining
her ability to act

by nickel-and-diming every scene
that she did.

And the crew grew very restless
with how slowly Julian worked

and how picky he was.

Plus, he wasn't very nice
to actors,

and Norman Kerry grew
so exasperated at one point

that he turned his horse
on Julian and ran him down.

Anyway, Mary Philbin always got
the man at the end of the movie,

but she did not get the man
in life.

Uh, Universal Pictures
in the early 1920s

was a very young company.

Carl Laemmle was in his 50s,

but he had a knack
for hiring talented young men,

some of them
right out of high school.

His most famous hire was
Irving Thalberg,

who started out as a secretary
in the New York office

and was named head of the studio
at the age of 20.

But another guy rising
quickly through the ranks

was Paul Kohner,

an Austrian who interviewed
Laemmle for his father's

newspaper while Laemmle
was visiting the famous spa

at Karlovy Vary,
and Laemmle was impressed by him

and talked him into moving
to America

and started him out
as an errand boy,

and he moved up through various
film-production jobs,

eventually became one of
the most powerful producers

and agents in Hollywood.

Represented Mar-- um,
Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo,

John Huston, Billy Wilder,
Ingrid Bergman,

Maurice Chevalier, Lana Turner,
and many other stars.

But in 1923, when he was a unit
production supervisor,

still working his way up, he
fell in love with Mary Philbin,

and she fell in love with him.

And they were inseparable
for four years.

But when they announced
their engagement,

Mary's parents strenuously
objected because he was Jewish

and they were strict Catholics.

So after much agonizing,

Mary Philbin was faced with
either marrying Kohner

and being shunned
by her family forever,

or staying close to her family
and losing Kohner.

So she told Kohner
she couldn't marry him,

and he was devastated.

But seven years later,
he married Lupita Tovar,

who starred in many movies
on both sides of the border,

known especially
for starring in Universal's

Spanish version of "Dracula."

And they were married
for 56 years

until Kohner's death in 1988.
But here's the sad part.

When they were cleaning out
Kohner's desk in 1988 --

his agency was in a famous
building on the Sunset Strip --

they found dozens of
love letters from Mary Philbin.

He had saved
every last one of them.

Probably saved him at his office

so that Lupita
wouldn't know about them.

And Mary Philbin had saved
his letters as well,

and they were with her
when she died

five years later
at the age of 91.

She died in the Huntington Beach
house that her family had bought

when they first moved
to Los Angeles in 1921.

She had lived there as a
virtual recluse for the 65 years

after her career ended in 1929,

and she was never able to make
the transition to sound films.

Okay, no more sad stories.

Shane, how you doing back there?

-Doing great.
This is kind of the boring part.

We're just getting started and
we're putting the bald cap down.

-Okay. Just remember,
we want the ugliest human being

that's ever been imagined
by the mind of H.P. Lovecraft.

-Well, we are gonna get in here

after I do these basic kind of
Cheney Phantom moves.

Then I'm gonna get in

and start applying
Lovecraftian shapes because,

as we know, the Phantom
wasn't just born ugly.

He's been mutated
by his use of the black arts.

So he's a little weird.

We're gonna go
a little weirder

than maybe people are expecting.

-Okay. We love to hear that.
How are you holding up, Spencer?

-It reminds me of, uh,
swim camp,

you know, with the, uh --
the swim cap.

Uh, other than that,
it's pretty good.

Just like a huge condom
on my head.

-Do you think this is gonna
be annoying or exciting?

-I think somewhere
right in the middle.

But I'm excited to be annoyed.

-All right, guys, carry on.

-Why did you say
H.P. Lovecraft?

-Doesn't he kind of
specialize in ugly monsters?

-Mm, I wouldn't say so, no.

-Who would you nominate?

-Nobody, really, honestly.

-Jack Davis? Basil Gogos?
-No.

'Cause when I look at
those monster drawings,

I just think they're beautiful.

-Remember
that "Twilight Zone" episode

where a woman's face
is covered in bandages

'cause she's had her
11th plastic surgery

and she's trying to be normal,

or else the government
will banish her forever?

-Oh, yeah. That's a good one.

-And then they remove
the bandages,

and it's Elly May Clampett
from "The Beverly Hillbillies."

-Donna Douglas! Yeah.

-Yeah. Donna Douglas.

And the doctor says, "I'm sorry,

but the surgery has failed
again.

You cannot remain in society
any longer."

And then the camera
turns around,

and we see this is a society
of people with pig snouts

and sunken eyes
and swollen lips.

-Standards of beauty.

-That's kind of
what we're doing here, right?

We're showing
how everyone's idea of beauty

is based on whatever
you're used to.

-Correct.
-Okay, back to the movie.

You think it'd be possible today
for a Paul Kohner

or an Irving Thalberg

to be working
as an errand boy in Hollywood,

and the studio boss just says,
"You know what, kid?

I like the way you think.

You want to be head
of production?"

-Never. Never.

-Maybe not head of production
like Thalberg,

but, "Hey, you're smart.

We're gonna let you produce
a feature."

-That would not happen. No.

-Why not?
People hate teenagers now?

I don't know, honestly.

-I got hired as a sportswriter
when I was 13,

and that was a tremendous boost
of confidence.

I mean, I wanted to work as hard
as possible to prove myself.

I would think that's as good
a reason as any to have teens.

I mean,
they have unlimited energy.

They overperform.
You pay them very little

and you get huge benefits.

-Nobody's doing that.

-Unless you play baseball.

-Unless you play baseball.

-Although Juan Soto --
he didn't make his first

$800 million until he was 26.

-Is it just me,
or does Christine

constantly contradict herself?

"Let me go and
I'll be your slave forever."

Isn't it one or the other?

Either let me go
or I'll be your slave?

But that reveal --
that is so good.

And if you ever get
the chance to watch it

with a concert-level organist --

who was that guy we saw in LA
on Halloween?

-Oh, Clark Wilson.
-Clark Wilson.

He is one of the last
practitioners

of what they call theater organ
music in the world,

and he performs
his own soundtrack for "Phantom"

on one of those giant organs

with the umpteen-jillion
pedals and keys.

And he uses a lot from Faust,
of course,

because that's the opera where
Christine replaces Carlotta.

But anyway, that moment
where the --

where she rips off the mask,
the deep bass organ chord

that he does
makes you jump out of your seat.

And as I mentioned before,

Lon Chaney directed
that scene himself

so he could get a terrified
reaction out of Mary Philbin.

All right, we can't really spend
three hours on every break.

-We could.
-There's so much to talk about

with "Phantom."
And at the last break,

I forgot to continue
our review of "Phantom" makeup.

So here we go.

Here's the 1937 Chinese Phantom
from "Song of Midnight."

Darcy?
-It's not bad.

They were trying.
I appreciate that.

-Um, here's Vincent Price
in "The Abominable Dr. Phibes,"

which has a slight resemblance
to the "Phantom" plot.

-I love Vincent Price,
and I love this movie,

but the story here
is not really about his face.

-True. Here's William Finley
in "Phantom of the Paradise."

-Yes!
Love "Phantom of the Paradise."

That is probably my favorite
adaptation after the original.

-I like what they did with
the eyeball,

but they're doing that
half-face thing.

The half-face ugly
is not the novel.

The novel says
the whole face is ugly.

They're trying to get away
with a cool mask.

Okay, here's a good one.
"Phantom of the Ritz."

I don't remember who
this actor is. Um...

-Joshua Sussman.

-Joshua Sussman.
Very good, Darcy.

They went for
the slime-glopola face.

What do you think?
-It's one of the better ones.

-Shane, are we using any slime?
Is Shane there?

-I'm here.
-Are we using any slime on this?

-Oh, we're gonna have slime.
-Glopola.

-We're slimy.
-What's your slime quotient?

Is there a lot of slime on this?

-We'll just have enough
to give it that glisteningly,

zit-popping, um...

smegma-dripping-out-
of-the-mouth sort of stuff.

-When stuff is coming out of
the mouth or nose,

that is always gross,
I love that.

-Yeah,
-Yeah, we gotta have some snot.

-How are you with snot
and slime, Spencer?

-Love snot and slime.

Uh, I remember that Nickelodeon
show where they would always...

-Oh, yeah.
-...get slimed, right?

-Yeah.

-But they never got snotted,
so...

-Well, you never know
what was in that slime.

-Yeah, yeah. And I have
seasonal allergies,

so there should be
some natural snot as well.

-Well, we'll use that.

-Right.
-Okay, man.

Well, we're counting on you to
make us scream when we see this.

-Oh, that's gonna happen.

See that? It already got
a Chaney nose going on.

Look at that.

-People actually did scream
and faint in the theaters

when the Phantom's face
was revealed in 1925.

Some people believe the reason

Lon Chaney was such
a great silent-film actor

is that his parents were deaf,
and when your parents are deaf,

especially in
the 1880s and 1890s,

when formal sign language was --
for a while,

was banned in some
of the deaf schools,

you become a master
of pantomime.

And actually, his formal
education ended at age nine

when he left school
to care for his sick mother.

But as soon as he was old
enough to work in vaudeville,

which would have been
around age 15 or 16,

he hit the vaudeville circuit.

And he was a great singer,
great dancer, great comedian.

Supposedly he had
a wonderful stage presence,

and he toured with
various vaudeville companies

for several years, and then,
like many talented actors,

he managed his own theater,
The Majestic, in downtown LA.

-Aw.
-Unfortunately, in 1913,

his wife went to the theater
one night

and attempted to kill herself
by swallowing mercury.

So this suicide attempt failed,

but the resulting scandal
ended his theater career

and forced him into movies.

Now, I'm not sure why
your wife trying to kill herself

would affect your
career prospects,

but apparently it did.

And at the time,

you could make a great deal
more money on the stage

than you could on screen.

Plus, the stage had
much more prestige,

so it was a comedown when he
started taking bit movie parts.

And because of his
makeup skills,

he had a lot of character parts.

So for the next
six or seven years,

he built a reputation
in Hollywood

as a versatile character actor,

but nothing more than that,
really.

And then he made a movie
called "The Miracle Man,"

where he played
a contortionist con man,

and he got brilliant reviews
for that.

And that led to a tour de force
performance in "The Penalty,"

where he played a crime boss

whose legs had been amputated
at the knee,

and the devices he wore for that
were so complicated and painful

that he could only work
10 minutes at a time.

But it was a breakthrough role
for him.

And then came

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame"
playing Quasimodo,

making him a star
in the company owned by the man

who invented the star system,
Carl Laemmle.

Um, he actually made 157 movies,

but 102 of those movies
are lost.

But his reputation
as The Man with a Thousand Faces

fascinated the public
all through the 1920s

and into the sound era,

and he even transferred
easily into talkies

due to his vast theater
experience.

But he would only make
one sound movie,

a remake of Tod Browning's
"The Unholy Three," in 1930.

He actually did five
of the voices in that movie,

but he died one month
after the film's release

of lung cancer
at the age of 47.

Um, the funeral of Lon Chaney

was like a who's who
of Hollywood.

The pallbearers were
Lionel Barrymore,

Louis B. Mayer, Tod Browning,
several other stars,

and the Marine Corps
provided an honor guard.

If you go to his grave
at Forest Lawn, it's unmarked.

It's a crypt.

Um, according to his express
wishes, it's unmarked.

But, of course,
he was memorialized in the movie

"Man of a Thousand Faces,"
starring James Cagney as Chaney,

the movie
that inspired Tom Savini

to become a makeup artist.

Um, all of his artifacts,
as we noted earlier,

went to the Los Angeles
Natural History Museum,

including a cast of his head
and his collection of wigs.

He had more wigs than you,
Darcy.

He had 100 wigs.

-Oh, no, he did not.

-He didn't have 100 wigs?

-I'm sure he did,

but he didn't have more
than I do.

-You have more than 100 wigs?

-Oh, yeah.
-All right.

Well, you are the queen
of cosplay.

So let's go back to the movie
and watch the master work.

I'm impressed, Darcy.

-Wigs are important.

-Obviously.
You know who loved Lon Chaney?

-Who?
-Forrest Ackerman,

the editor of "Famous Monsters
of Filmland" magazine.

Every issue of "Famous Monsters"
had a page called

"Lon Chaney Shall Not Die"...
-Aw.

-...devoted to his life
and career.

So at least until 1983,

when Forrey stepped away
from the magazine,

Lon Chaney was never
out of the public eye.

-How old would he be now
if he was alive?

-Lon Chaney would be...141.

-I bet he would
still look awesome.

-He would be doing makeup,
make himself look 18, right?

Right.

-So this is the part
of the movie when

Charles Van Enger,
the cinematographer,

really gets to show off.

At the time this film came out,

there were three
color processes competing

for Hollywood's attention.

And "Phantom of the Opera"
uses all three of them.

The Prizma system,
which was invented in 1913,

was used for the color shots
in the introduction,

what's called
the Soldier's Night sequence,

going over the history
of the opera house.

The Handschiegl process,
invented in 1916,

was used to color
the Phantom's cape

when he's up there on the roof,
spying on the lovers.

And Technicolor,
also introduced in 1916,

was used for the masked ball.

So many memorable images --

I mean, the Phantom sweeping
down the staircase

in his Red Death costume,

the Phantom perched
on the roof angel,

the hundreds of extras
partying.

These were grand scenes
considered revolutionary

at the time of the premiere,

even though we're
not sure exactly what

the Astor Theatre
premiere audience saw.

Our best guess here
at Shudder is that the print

we're watching tonight

is a combination
of the 1925 theatrical release,

which had 17 minutes of color
in it,

and the 1929 re-release
with some sound added.

But nobody knows for sure.

Um, beca-- after six months
of pre-production,

11 months of actual shooting,
9 months of post-production,

if you include the re-shoots
and the re-edits,

Universal didn't bother
to preserve any prints

from the original run
of the movie.

So around 1950,
Eastman Kodak in Rochester

goes to Universal and says,

"We've noticed that
the nitrate negative is starting

to disintegrate.

You should really do something
about it."

And they told Universal

that they wanted to help
them save it.

But Universal had
virtually nothing in storage.

Most of the prints
of the movie that exist today

are compilations
that have been cobbled together

from various outside sources.

I counted 12 different versions,

including the George Eastman
house print from 1950

and the most recent
Kino Lorber Blu-ray.

But the most valuable print is
probably what's known

as the John Hampton Show-at-Home
Duplications Compilation Print.

John Hampton was
the original owner

of the Silent Movie Theater
in LA, your favorite place.

-Yes, he was great.
-Okay.

And so John Hampton
found a stash

of 16-millimeter versions
of "Phantom"

that had been made available
to libraries and schools

and collectors,

and he combed through those
for the best images

and the most complete
assemblies.

It says something
about the passion

people had for this project

that it has survived re-writes,
re-edits,

new made-up endings,

and actual physical
deterioration,

but it still holds up
as a compelling work of art.

One thing I wanted to mention,

as evidence of how carefully
the movie was art-directed,

is that bed
in the Phantom's lair.

I-I think it's what
you call a sleigh bed,

or you used to call
a sleigh bed,

but it's got a ship's prow
on the front and it's gold.

And the Phantom and Christine
move around it quite a bit,

as though it's the place
that both want to end up.

Am I the only person who
thinks it's a very kinky bed?

-I feel like you are.
Yes. Yes.

-Well, anyway,
I looked into where they got it.

Carl Laemmle had sent
all these people to Europe

to find artifacts,

and they purchased that bed
at an auction

of the estate of a French
entertainer named Gaby Deslys,

who was sort of the bad girl
of Europe.

She was a dancer,
then she was a singer,

then she was an actress,

and she was known for having
a fairly public affair

with the King of Portugal.

And she created
all these dances,

all these popular dances --
the Grizzly Bear,

the Turkey Trot.

And there was a dance named
after her, the Gaby Glide.

So they brought the bed back
to Universal,

and tell me this does not
make it kinky.

They put it in a film
called "Trifling Women"

starring Barbara La Marr.

And I don't think many
people remember Barbara La Marr,

no relation to Hedy Lamarr,

but she was known as
"the girl who is too beautiful"

because one time
when she got arrested

for drunk and disorderly,
the judge just sent her home

because he said she was
too beautiful to go to jail.

Anyway, the bed was used
for her exploits,

and many, many years later
it would be used

as Norma Desmond's bed
in "Sunset Boulevard."

But anyway,
I think you look at that bed

and you instinctively go,

"Christine,
don't sit on that bed.

Go away from that bed.
Beware that bed."

-You've thought about this
a lot, haven't you?

-Yeah. Too much.
So let's go back to the movie.

Roll it. Do you know who
Barbara La Marr was?

-Not really.

-Um, the opposite
of Mary Philbin,

the ultimate Hollywood
party girl.

Heavy drinker.
Two hours of sleep a night.

Always on crash diets,

linked romantically
to a new man every month.

Probably a lesbian. Um...

Collapsed on the set of
"The Girl from Montmartre"

in 1925, went into a coma,
never emerged from it.

-Wow.
-Dead at 29.

The coroner said she died
from tuberculosis and nephritis.

She died from partying.

-Wow. Respect.

-It's a choice, though, right?
-Yes.

-Okay. All right.
That was her bed.

The Phantom's bed is her bed.

-Okay, I get your point now.

-All right. Thank you.
-You're welcome.

-Okay, Shane.

How are we doing
in the ugly department?

-Oh, we're --
we're getting ugly.

Time clock is ticking, though.

-Spencer,
thanks for being such a trooper.

What is your family
gonna think

when they see you
in this makeup?

-I'm in for a, uh, pretty rough
Thanksgiving.

-All right.
Are you guys gonna do a mask?

-Of course. What's the Phantom
of the Opera without a mask?

It's getting to the point where
we're gonna have to

hide this from you guys, anyway.

-Should we start
hiding everything?

Should we start
concealing the final result?

-Oh, yeah. I think it's time
to hide this from the audience

so we get a big surprise
when reveal happens.

-All right, carry on. You have
about two and a half hours left.

-We're gonna make it.
-Okay.

Darcy, we got some more
glopola faces to compare.

Here's Robert Englund
in a "Phantom of the Opera"

remake in 1989.
What do you think of this one?

-It is very impressive.

But the Phantom's face
is supposed

to resemble a human skull.
-True.

And, actually,
there were two Phantoms in 1989.

The other one was
"Phantom of the Mall."

-Yeah.
-But again, it's a face that

was horribly burned in a fire.
Does that count?

Oh, it definitely counts.

-Okay.

The same would be true
of Liam Neeson

in Sam Raimi's "Darkman."

-True.
-And he was injured like that.

-Yeah, I-I love them both.

They look amazing,
but they're really similar.

-You know,
our friend Jill Schoelen

was the Christine character
in two of those...

-I know.
-...movies back to back.

She was in the Robert Englund
"Phantom,"

and then she was in "Popcorn"
in 1991

with that disfigured dude
haunting a theater.

Uh, which is the better
Jill Schoelen "Phantom"?

-Oh, man, if I gotta pick,
it's gotta be "Popcorn."

-Okay.
-I love "Popcorn."

-Much of what you saw
in that last sequence

was added material,
not from the novel

that had one purpose --
to make you hate the Phantom.

He escaped from Devil's Island.

Not in the book.

He murders a stagehand
at this point in the story.

Not in the book.

He's being tailed by
a detective -- not in the book.

And that was actually something

you could only do
in the silent era.

That character was supposed
to be a character

from the novel called
the Persian,

and the Persian was a man

who had saved the Phantom's life
at a time

when the Phantom was living
at the royal court of Persia,

showing the Shah
how to engineer his castle

and make it impenetrable
and safe,

and also demonstrating
assassination techniques

that the Shah found
to be convenient,

like the Punjab lasso.

That's why Raoul and
Inspector Ledoux look ridiculous

as they walk underground,
holding one finger up in the air

to avoid being lassoed
Punjabi-style.

So when the Shah decided
that Erik --

that's the Phantom's
actual name --

when he decided
that Erik knew too much,

he plotted to assassinate him.

But the Persian helped Erik
to escape the country

and go to Paris,

so the Persian now is trying
to rescue Christine

by appealing to Erik's
sense of obligation to him.

Well, they just decided
at some point to destroy

all that part of the plot,

since you don't know what anyone
is saying in a silent movie,

and you can change
what they're saying

and even their name by simply
inserting a new title card.

That's what they did.

The Persian became
Inspector Ledoux,

undercover
French police officer.

And, in fact, they had shot a
whole lot of flashback footage

at the Persian court
that was now wasted.

And they even bought
an elephant specifically for

those Persian sequences.

The elephant's name was Minnie.

She was a five-ton circus
elephant sold to Universal

by the Kansas City Shriners.

And her footage ended up
on the cutting-room floor.

-Aw.
-Minnie, however, ended up

at the Los Angeles Zoo
in nearby Griffith Park...

-All right.
-...where she was a star

attraction until her death
about 20 years later.

Um, now, normally I don't
go into story-conference notes

because it's boring
and pointless.

We should just look at
the movie that exists,

not the movie
that was envisioned.

But in this particular case,
it helps to understand --

can I do this, Darcy?
This is --

-Would it matter if I say no?

-Of course not.
-Then go ahead.

-All right. Publicity for
"Phantom of the Opera"

started a full year
before its official release,

and the studio was planning
a February 1925 premiere

at the Globe Theatre
in New York.

It would have been the first
movie ever shown there.

The Globe was a very fancy,
legitimate theater.

It's still there today.
It's the Lunt-Fontanne.

Still fancy, but not as fancy
as it was in 1925

when it originally extended
all the way to Times Square.

New Yorkers familiar
with Times Square

know what I'm talking about.

All that tacky retail between
46th and 47th on Broadway?

That was not there.

That was the grand promenade
entrance to the Globe.

Anyway, not only
did they book the Globe,

they rented two of the largest
electric signs on Broadway,

and Carl Laemmle ordered
a full-court publicity press

pointing to
that February premiere.

But on January the 7th, about
a month before the premiere,

the studio went into
an all-out panic.

Laemmle had asked
his friend Sid Grauman

to sneak the movie
at one of his downtown

Los Angeles theaters,

and the audience despised
the movie.

The comment cards came back

with devastating hatred
for the ending,

confusion about some of the
elements, including the Persian,

and they thought it was
absurdly melodramatic.

They thought it was too long.

The editor, Gilmore Walker,

had started with a rough cut
of 22 reels,

a four-hour film,

so, of course, they had to have
an intermission.

Well, the small talk at
intermission was all negative.

Quite a few people left
the theater.

So the editing department
started working

around the clock to change it.

And for the new cut,
Walker got rid of 10 reels.

It was -- he was -- they were
just editing with an ax.

And Laemmle ordered a second
sneak on January the 27th.

This time the audience
reaction was even worse.

So much had been cut out
of the film now

that nobody understood
the purpose

of many of the characters.

So Laemmle canceled
the premiere at the Globe,

and he ordered Rupert Julian
to shoot a new ending.

The Phantom had to die.
Julian refused.

The ending he had shot was
true to the spirit of the novel.

The Phantom is transformed
by a kiss,

realizes the meaning
of true love,

gives his blessing to Christine
to marry Raoul,

and is later found dead
at his organ.

But Laemmle was clear.

Based on audience
reaction cards,

there must be no sympathy
for the Phantom.

He must be killed.

And since Rupert Julian
wouldn't shoot the new scenes,

he was fired and Laemmle brought
in veteran Edward Sedgwick,

the director of those cheap
Hoot Gibson westerns,

to shoot the new ending dreamed
up by the story committee.

So the Phantom commits
a murder of a stagehand

who "knows too much,"
and his grieving,

vengeance-seeking brother
incites a mob

that chases the Phantom
to his death.

Now, Sedgwick,
who was also a comedy director,

inserted lots
of "comic-relief scenes"

in an effort
to satisfy the audience members

who were bored
by the whole story,

when, in fact,
they were apparently just bored

with the length
of the whole story.

But this is also the point
at which the Universal writers

decided that the Persian had,
quote, "no rhyme nor reason,"

and they converted him
into an undercover policeman

chasing an escapee
from Devil's Island.

A legendary title writer
named Walter Anthony

was hired away from Paramount,
brought from New York

to Hollywood
just to work on "Phantom."

All publicity was halted.

When they'd made all
the writing changes,

the character changes,
the editing changes,

they scheduled a test run
of the "new, improved film"

with a limited engagement
in April and May

at the Curran Theatre
in San Francisco.

Curran was
another legitimate theater

where movies were never shown.

Um, actually,
that's true to this day.

It's a famous
pre-Broadway tryout house.

And the thinking was,
"Okay, third time's a charm."

They used a version
that included a duel,

lots of new comic-relief
characters, and of course,

the new "throw the Phantom
in the river" ending.

And the reaction was...

even worse
than the first two screenings,

leading to another six months of
tinkering and second guessing.

By the time
the movie premiered in September

at the Astor in Times Square,

all the comic characters
were gone,

all the stuff in Persia
was gone,

the sequence in a churchyard
was gone.

The besieged editor, Gilmore
Walker, bless his heart --

he had cut his original
22-reel version down to 10.

The studio ultimately decided on
the leanest possible version

with the least possible nuance.

Christine loved Raoul
and only Raoul.

The Phantom was
a deranged killer and must die.

And poor Arthur Edmund Carewe,

the Armenian American
playing the Persian --

he was just unaware of anything
he was saying or doing

because it had all
been changed in the title cards.

Hollywood will always argue

over who's the real author
of any movie.

You know, in some cases,
it's the director.

In some cases, it's the writer.

In some cases,
it's the producer.

In this case,

it was about 37 different people
at the studio

and 10,000 audience members who
had seen it at test screenings.

The only person who could claim
true authorship of the movie

would be Carl Laemmle,
the owner of Universal,

and the only person
who could deliver a hit

under those circumstances
was Lon Chaney.

It is a miracle
that the movie survived at all.

Sorry, Darcy.

-Oh my God. Don't be.
It was great.

But are you done now, though?

-Back to the conclusion
of "Phantom of the Opera."

Am I ever done?
-No. Never.

-That's what we do here.
We talk it to death.

-And then you talk it
some more.

-Yes.
I call it dead-horse criticism.

That's what we do.
-As you should.

-Not really.
-Oh, no.

That is actually
an excellent way to describe it.

-People love a deep dive,
though.

-Not when the dive is so deep,
you bump your head

on the floor of the pool
and drown.

-Was it that bad?

-I mean, it was pretty long
tonight, just saying.

-All right.
-But, but, but, but!

-Happy birthday, "Phantom,"
is what I should say.

-No, exactly.
"Phantom" deserves it.

Happy birthday, "Phantom."

And that is the only way you're
getting away with this tonight,

just so you know.
-I know.

-I know.
-I know.

Okay.

-You know, I always wonder
about that last comic moment

where the Phantom pretends
to have a grenade in his hand,

but then he laughs at the mob

right before
they tear him apart.

-That's great.

-I would love
to watch the 22-reel,

four-hour version of "Phantom"

that was tested
in January of 1925,

but we don't have
any of that lost footage.

We don't have the footage
from the Persian court.

We don't have Christine's
visit to her father's grave

in the churchyard --
churchyard cemetery.

Uh, we don't even have
those comic-relief sequences

that Edward Sedgwick shot
to try to lighten it up.

We don't have the duel
with Count Ruboff,

but what is it about this story

that has inspired so many
adaptations and re-imaginings,

and what made it
the longest-running show

in the history of Broadway?

13,981 performances
at the Majestic Theatre

between 1988 and 2023,

with that giant chandelier
rising

from the stage every night.

The chandelier scene,
by the way,

was based on a real event
at the Paris Opera.

An audience member was killed
and several injured

when the chandelier did fall
into the crowd

on a certain night in 1896.

I think the reason
the Phantom story has persisted

is that it's so elastic.

Um, the Phantom can be
anything from an assassin

to a psychopath

to a misunderstood genius
with a heart of gold.

Every retelling creates
a new Phantom,

so it's actually
not a very original story.

It's very similar
to the more famous novel

"Trilby" by George du Maurier.

The Phantom is a more reclusive
version of Svengali in "Trilby,"

but at the core of the story
is the question,

does it make a difference if
you're forced to go through life

with a face
that the world rejects?

And, of course,
the answer is, yes, it does.

Um, whether the Phantom dies by
suicide, is killed by the mob,

or simply fades away,

as he does in the disappearing
act at the end

of Andrew Lloyd Webber's
version,

um, it's clear
that he's cursed from birth.

He has no real chance because
we do care what he looks like,

despite what we say.

There's also the idea
in the novel and the film

and the musical

that the world is
usually divided into two classes

of people --
the privileged and the outcasts.

And you can't cross that chasm.

Everything above ground
at the Paris Opera House

is beautiful, wealthy,
perfectly formed,

ordered, cultured.

And everything below ground at
the Paris Opera House is ugly,

defiled, poor, mad,
homeless, chaotic.

This is always a recipe
for monstrous violence

and violent monsters.

Most of the people involved
in the original "Phantom"

were forgotten by the time
that they died,

Lon Chaney being
the sole exception

because he died so soon, just
five years after the premiere.

I already talked about
the sad life of Mary Philbin,

who lived till age 91
as a virtual recluse.

Norman Kerry, who played Raoul,

didn't really get any work
after 1931,

although he lived till 1956.

Uh, Rupert Julian,
the director who had had

a distinguished theater and film
career

as both an actor
and a director, uh,

retired in 1936 after his
sound career failed to take off,

and he died in 1943.

Arthur Edmund Carewe,
the Armenian actor

who played Inspector Ledoux,

committed suicide in 1937
at the age of 53.

Gaston Leroux, the novelist,

lived only two years
after the release of the movie,

but he seemed to enjoy
the notoriety of it,

even after his novel
had been butchered

by the Universal rewrite squad.

He didn't mind that much 'cause
he was basically a reporter.

He was not a literary man.

He was really one of the most
celebrated reporters of his day.

He wrote plays and novels,
basically, as a sideline.

And even though Carl Laemmle
would continue to invest

in the best horror films
of the day,

including "Frankenstein,"
"Dracula,"

"The Mummy," many others,

he would lose control
of Universal in 1936

and a hostile takeover
and die three years later.

And Darcy, one thing that was
interesting to me

is that the torture chamber
of the Phantom

was a room of infinite mirrors.
-Oh, yeah.

That is absolutely
my definition of torture.

-You hate mirrors.

-They're kind of --
they're overrated.

-I think the idea was
that when that building

was being used
as a revolutionary prison,

they put the mirrors there
to make people watch themselves

as they were tortured.
-That sounds unbearable.

-I'm not a fan of mirrors,

but even worse is watching
myself on the actual show.

I can't -- I can't do it.

Sometimes I have to do it,
but it's painful.

I try not to do it 'cause
it makes me self-conscious.

-Aw. Well, it's way beyond
self-conscious for me,

so I get it.
-I know.

Well, um, no mirrors here.

So let's get ready for the
second movie

of "The Last Drive-In"
premiere tonight.

Uh, moving from the foundation
film of "Phantom" movies

to the most batshit crazy
of all "Phantom" movies,

Dario Argento's "Opera."
-Whoo!

Do we have any pertinent mailbag
first, though?

-Indeed we do.

This letter came in
from Cliff Revard of Denver,

and I think
you're gonna like it.

-Really?
-Yes.

-Okay.

"Dear Joe Bob,
my name is Cliff Revard,

and I am eight years old."

-Aw!
-Well, they get younger
and younger.

I gotta start watching
my language on the show.

-He's gotta learn.
-"I'm from Denver, Colorado,

in the neighborhood
of Montbello.

My mom is helping
to write this letter.

I have
Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome,

which is a rare
genetic condition

that affected my brain,
heart, vision, lungs,

and other areas of my body.

I'm very bright,
but because I am non-verbal,

it is sometimes hard
to show people how intelligent,

funny, and cool I am."
-Aw.

-"Watching your show
is one of our --

my mom and mine --
favorite highlights of our week.

We get to cuddle in bed and
focus on our shared comforts,

watching horror movies together.

It's a time where we
are not focused on anything else

but just enjoying the moment.

I love learning about the movie
and hearing fun facts.

I even laugh at your jokes."

Somebody laughs at my jokes,
Darcy.

-It's a pity laugh.
-Cliff laughs at my jokes.

He's just trying to be nice.

-Uh, "We love the dynamic
between you and Darcy."

-Aw.
-"And the cosplays are

always so fun.'
-Aah!

-"You call your fans mutants
and express how we are family.

And even though we may not
all know one another personally,

I feel a connection to this
community.

As long as we can come
together once a week

and hang out with you and Darcy
and the gang,

we are never alone."

I'm sorry. It's nice.

-Why did you do this?
-It's a nice letter.

-"I'm happy to have
my mutant family.

When I grow up.
I want to write horror movies

and own a drive-in.
Who knows, maybe someday you may

host my movie at my drive-in."
-Hell, yeah.

-"Darcy and Joe Bob, please keep
doing what you're doing.

It is really special.

Love your mutant family member,
Cliff Revard."

Okay, well, Cliffy --
I'm calling you Cliffy,

because that's what it says on
the outside of the envelope --

um, thanks for summing up
what it's all about.

We're a bunch of people
who are homeless in the world,

but at home with one another.

So something about horror
does that to people.

And you're actually
not the first

non-verbal fan of the show.
We have another guy.

I don't know
if he has Rubinstein-Taybi

or something else,
but I met him at one

of the conventions
in Pennsylvania.

So when God gave out words,

he apparently gave them out
unevenly

so that those of us
who have too many words --

and don't say anything
about that, Darcy...

-I said nothing.
-...can donate some to

the wordless
by speaking up for them.

Shane, I hope you're
at least half done,

'cause we are out of here.

-I am about half done
with the sculpting,

and then I'm gonna
get ready to paint it.

So, yeah,
I'm feeling pretty good.

-All right.
Remember, it's not ugly

until it makes you
want to throw up.

-The time-constraint thing
is kind of making me

me want to throw up.

I think I'm gonna be okay,
though.

-And, Spencer, I feel like
I owe you an apology.

-No, man, you sent me those
two bolo ties a few months back.

Just keep those coming,
and we're square.

-But, Spencer, you --
but you are free to throw up

whenever you want.

Go ahead.
-You must have missed it.

About five minutes ago,
I vomited all over Shane.

Sorry about your boots,
buddy.

-It's all right.

-They weren't real suede,
were they?

-All right, just one more movie,
and then you're done.

And now we're gonna clean up
our clothes

and get ready for part two

of "The Phantom of the Opera"
100th birthday.

And then after that,
we're gonna reveal

the ultimate ugly face.

I'm Joe Bob Briggs
with Darcy the Mail Girl,

reminding you that
the only thing fair in life

is the hair
on a Norwegian albino's butt,

and the drive-in will never die.

What?

-I've got a -- I've got a --
-It's okay.

-I've got an ugly joke.
-Okay, go for it.

-All right. Three women die
and go to Heaven.

-Okay.
-When they get to Heaven,

Saint Peter says, "We only have
one rule here in Heaven --

don't step on the ducks."
So they enter Heaven,

and sure enough, there are ducks
all over the place.

It's almost impossible
not to step on a duck.

And although they try
their best to avoid them,

the first woman
accidentally steps on a duck.

So along comes Saint Peter with
the ugliest man she ever saw.

And Saint Peter chains them
together and says,

"Your punishment
for stepping on a duck

is to spend eternity
chained to this man."

So the next day,

the second woman
accidentally steps on a duck.

Along comes Saint Peter.
He doesn't miss a thing.

With him is another
extremely ugly man.

He chains them together
with the same admonishment

as for the first woman --
for eternity.

The third woman
has observed all this,

and not wanting to be chained
for all eternity to an ugly man,

she's very careful
where she steps.

She manages to go months
without stepping on any ducks,

but one day Saint Peter
comes up to her

with the most handsome man
she's ever laid eyes on.

He's tall, he's muscular,
he's thin.

Saint Peter chains them together
without saying a word,

and the happy woman says,

"I wonder what I did
to deserve being chained to you

for all eternity."

And the guy says,
"I don't know about you,

but I stepped on a duck."

-That's mean.
That's not nice.