Unless I find something absolutely amazing and appropriate [alliteration] between now and October 31st, not to mention the time to write about it, y’all can just go ahead, pump the brakes, and consider this your de facto Halloween post. I’ve gotta strike now while I have the opportunity, so happy almost Halloween or something like that. (I guess I could write it all up and just wait for Halloween to post it, except that I, uh, don’t wanna.)
But what a reason to jump the gun! You see that post title above, don’t you? Oh yes, you best believe we are once again, after a nearly five year hiatus, entering the world of budget VHS releases and public domain movies and Al Lewis reprising his Grampa Munster shtick to host all of it. The last time we saw one of these here on the blog, it was October 31st (thas Halloween), 2016, when I reviewed, in exhausting detail, the Al “Grampa” Lewis edition of Night of the Living Dead.
The cover of Amvest Video’s 1988 VHS release.
Today we’re seeing yet another legitimately classic horror film – that had become delightfully public domain in the years since its original theatrical release – presented by Al Lewis: 1925’s The Phantom of the Opera. A Universal flick! Cool winnins! I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether it’s cooler than Night of the Living Dead, but at any rate, it’s still plenty cool – and no joshin’, it took me years to track down a copy.
Truthfully, as far as the site here is concerned, I wasn’t sure I’d ever take another sojourn into this video series. I mean, how many times can I go back to the same well? Still, my old articles on these have proven continuously popular, the subject matter is interesting, the movie here is good, and it’s the Halloween season; if not here and now, when?
There’s a lot of info regarding this series of tapes, and while I’ve learned some new things since 2016, by and large I’ve already covered a good portion of it. So, I’ll try to give summarized accounts of the main points where required, but for a fuller overview, my four (!) previous articles of the Grampa tapes are good places to start. (Besides Night of the Living Dead, which was the last, there was The Human Monster, which was the first, then The Corpse Vanishes, and after that, Nosferatu.)
Real quick rundown: in 1988, Amvest Video released a series of budget VHS tapes featuring old, (mostly) public domain horror & sci-fi movies hosted by Al Lewis of Grandpa Munster fame, albeit called “Grampa” here and without the Munster moniker. (Cause copyrights and trademarks and all that jazz.) The series was pretty wide-ranging, from legitimate classics to poverty row cheapies to cornball drive-in fare to imports to 70s grime. Supposedly there were 59 titles released in the series (as seen in a scroll at the end of these tapes; I’ve typed it all out before, I’m not doing it again), though not all have been confirmed to actually exist (that I’ve seen). Some feature Grampa on the cover and some inexplicably don’t, and depending on whether you’ve found an earlier or (I presume) later pressing of whatever, he might or might not even be on the actual tape. Trust me, it can get real confusing, real quick.
(As of this writing, I’ve managed to confirm all but 13 of those supposed 59 releases. While my official stance is that they all made it out at some point, and there’s indeed a handful I think are highly likely to exist, truthfully, there are some others that I’m having serious doubts about. After over six years of searching, I’ve still never seen so much as an inkling of them being out there, besides their being listed as part of the series. If they exist, they’ve gotta be exceedingly rare, and that’s in relation to a series that leans towards “obscure” as it is.)
So, 1925’s The Phantom of the Opera. That’s the cover of Amvest’s 1988 release above. As you can see, it did not feature the appropriate Grampa hoopla on the sleeve, though the watercolor (?) rendering of Lon Chaney’s Phantom used for the artwork wasn’t/isn’t bad. I kinda like it! Oh, and I really wasn’t kidding before; it seriously took years for me to track this one down. I can’t remember how many copies I wound up purchasing before hitting Al Lewis pay dirt (the last only a few weeks before finally nabbing the jackpot here, believe it or not), but they kept being movie-only. While it’s a legit classic, man, I needed the full experience, yo! Despite reading an offhand comment about the host segments somewhere once, that wasn’t enough to get me to label this one “confirmed.” Nevertheless, it was one of the titles I suspected to exist, and well, my suspicion was correct. (You wanna get technical up in here, the cover above is actually that of the placeholder copy that the Grampa version duly replaced, simply because the Grampa one got put into safe storage right quick and thus the placeholder was the one readily available for subsequent picture-takin’. But the covers are identical so why are you giving me grief?)
Grampa imploring the unseen Igor to state the title of the movie.
You like how I worked this screencap here? It’s like Lewis is pointing at the tape cover above! That’s called manufacturing success or something like that.
These tapes (when you find a good’un, at least) always feature the same intros and outros – what, you thought Lewis was gonna film 59 unique sets of host segments? Get outta here with that jive!
In them, Lewis appears and, accompanied by some silly computerized special effects, goes into his whole Grampa routine. He’s an old vampire, he’s not Paul Newman, and he’s excited to be hosting movies from the Amvest library. An elaborate affair the set-up is not, but it IS fun and effectively charming. Hey, if you’ve got PD movies that countless other companies are also releasing during the then-current home video boom, you gotta do something to stand out, and boy did Amvest succeed there! No foolin’, this works SO much better than just another dry company I.D. and/or reminder to adjust the tracking on your stupid VCR. It’s all very “budget VHS release” of course, but there’s a level of ‘specialness’ here that other releases of a similar ilk lacked beyond whatever pathetic cover art they sported.
Anyway, the only thing that varied, or was MEANT to vary, from tape to tape in this series was a moment in the intro where Grampa would ask an off-screen Igor to tell the home viewer the name of the respective movie. The idea was for “Igor” to then state the name of the flick and who was starring in it. A good deal of the time though, this voiceover was left out entirely, which meant that Lewis looking at the camera expectantly before finally exclaiming “THAT’S THE ONE! Good boy, Igor!” to absolutely nothing was often the order of the day. Unintentionally funny? Well, yeah. But still, something to add a unique touch is always appreciated.
In this particular case, I’m happy to report that Amvest’s Grampa Phantom of the Opera does indeed feature the Igor voiceover! It’s just a brief moment, but it’s such a welcome addition – especially since the movie featured here truly deserves it. (Actually, I’ve been on an Igor-roll lately; the last three Grampas I’ve been able to confirm, Battle of the Worlds, Godzilla vs. Megalon and our subject today, they’ve all featured the Igor voiceover. I guess I’m streaky when it comes to things that really don’t matter, but I’m still deeming all this “neato.”)
The title screen. (Duh!)
Okay, what say we talk some movie stuff, cause the 1925 Phantom of the Opera, this ain’t no small potatoes. Indeed, this is a film that has achieved legendary status – and rightfully so.
Although, perhaps calling this version a 1925 film is a little misleading. While the movie was indeed first released in ’25, there was a 1930 (or was it 1929? I’ve heard both) rerelease that, long story short, is where a lot of footage in these common PD-arena copies comes from. Or, I guess there were some reshot scenes, but then, other footage is from 1925, but from a second camera (common practice back in the day), so…so…
You know what? You try to figure it all out. Wikipedia has some info on the subject, and I imagine there’s a wealth of even more in-depth dissections and analysis’ out there (here’s one), but the honest truth is that I’ve delved into all this well before this article, and frankly, it just makes my head swim. I feel like I need a flippin’ program to keep on track here, but even then, I’m not sure that’d be enough. I’m just gonna keep deeming it “1925” and let the chips fall where they may. Truth be told, it’s all fascinating stuff (if you’re into this sort of thing anyway), but MAN does it get confusing fast.
Regardless of origin(s), here’s where we’re at: the VHS sleeve gives a runtime of approximately 75 minutes, though that’s obviously not taking the Grampa bits into account, which in total run roughly 6 minutes. From start to finish the tape runs about 1 hour 20 minutes, so, yeah. Near as I can tell, these kinds of Phantom of the Opera prints should be closer 90 minutes, so it’s safe to say there was some film editin’ afoot – though when or where those edits originally occurred, or by who, is not an issue I’m prepared to tackle right now.
As it stands, there’s no technicolor sequence and no inexplicable-yet-fascinating lantern man scene here; I know that much.
Lon Chaney’s portrayal of The Phantom.
Some of my unfamiliarity stems from the fact that I’ve only seen this movie in its entirety (such as it is HAW HAW HAW) once before, and it was back in the actual VHS days. Just like nowadays, vintage horror & sci-fi was always on my radar, so when a (different) budget VHS copy fell into my paws, I duly watched it. I can’t really remember my reaction to the film, but then, all I really can remember is that the technicolor ball sequence was included in that one.
I probably should pick me up a restored/remastered/whatevered copy of this movie at some point, but you know, even edited and with some quality issues (more on those momentarily), this movie is a wonder. Lon Chaney as the titular character is a marvel – still appropriately grotesque, creepy, yet magnetic to this very day. (And the famous unmasking scene is still effective, as well.) Chaney absolutely commands this film in a way I’m not sure another actor could have, and as such, totally recalls Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of Dracula in that movie.
Speaking of which, like Dracula, The Phantom of the Opera is a Universal film, Universal being, of course, the tops in golden age cinematic horror. The Phantom is very often – and deservedly – placed in the same stable as Universal’s other monster stars, though I generally think of Universal’s stellar run of horror films as truly beginning with the twin 1931 whammy of Dracula and Frankenstein. I tend to consider Phantom as more of a precursor than an entry in all that, albeit one that should also be spoken of in the same breath as the others. And what’s more interesting is that unlike those later films, Phantom lapsed into the public domain, something you don’t typically associate with Universal horror. (I guess you could give an honorary mention to 1923’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame here as well, which also stars Chaney and could be considered a precursor to a precursor, though I think of that as more of a drama film with horror undertones. Overtones?)
Different versions of the story have different details (full disclosure: I haven’t read the original novel), but I think most of us have at least a basic understanding of the gist of the plot: the crazed, deformed Erik inhabits the ancient lairs deep beneath the Paris Opera House, occasionally coming above ground to ‘haunt’ the opera. He becomes obsessed with a particular actress, the beautiful Christine (played by Mary Philbin here), and begins threatening, and then sabotaging, the production in order to further her career – in exchange for her love. Of course, when Erik feels Christine has betrayed him…
The plot has proven suitably timeless, of course; there have been countless adaptations, some apparently looser than others, not to mention the big time famous musical you’ve probably heard of unless you entered extreme isolation waaaaay before 2020. Universal themselves made another version, this one starring Claude Raines, in 1943 – absolutely during their top-of-the-horror-film-world run. Certainly it’s less iconic than the Chaney version and with a bit too much opera, but the durability of the story and the status of the character as a horror mainstay was clearly evident even back then.
Where Phantom ’25 is concerned, as good as the storyline is (and it’s really good), even more striking is the imagery. Not just Chaney’s superb Phantom, but the whole world of the movie. Despite the class and extravagance that an opera house should naturally project, the nasty catacombs beneath it truly succeed in creating, I guess you could say, a whole different universe. The putrid, pitch black canals down there (I couldn’t help wondering what could be residing in those waters) are a sight to behold. And while on the trail of the Phantom and kidnapped Christine, when her boyfriend Raoul and a secret police officer encounter a secret messenger of the Phantom, who pops out of the shadows, warns them away, and then disappears back into the dark, it’s genuinely creepy; even surreal!
Though for as impressed as I was with all of this, I also fear I’m still missing out somewhat, and it’s mostly due to the print quality of the version found on this tape – it’s pretty bad. As in “someone dragged the reels around the parking lot 10 or 11 times before throwing them in the projector” bad. The amount of dust/dirt/scratches present is, to say the least, considerable. While I don’t necessarily mind the “old timey cinema” vibes they project, I also can’t help but feel they obscure some of the finer details of the set design, cinematography, etc. etc. etc. Phantom wasn’t just another movie, it was a legit production, and while it’s easy enough to intellectually know that while watching, it can be easy to forget from, I suppose, a visceral, “in the moment” viewpoint. Not unlike missing out on some of the spectacular scenery in Metropolis when it’s watched via a less-than-ideal print.
Oh, by the way, I hope you like your silent movies really silent, because there’s no musical soundtrack whatsoever in this version of the film! From the numerous copies I picked up beforehand, I was aware of this going in, and as such I knew I had to watch in the daytime when I’d (hopefully) be most alert – a practice that under normal circumstances I’d actively avoid. For reasons best described as arbitrary, I firmly believe movies should be evening/nighttime endeavors; watching in the light of day just doesn’t feel right to me – especially horror movies such as this one. Still, rather than risk dozing off and/or being distracted by my failures of the preceding day floating around my head, I opted for the daylight experience – though the fact it was an overcast day helped somewhat.
Though I will say this: the blasted quality of the film and lack of accompanying soundtrack does impart a dreamy, nightmarish quality to this version of the movie that, to be totally frank, I don’t think is altogether bad. Preferable? Well, no; the purists will certainly – and understandably – balk. But with more definitive editions readily available in this day and age, seeing the movie with these ‘attributes’ is an interesting experience if nothing else.
Of course, those more-authoritative releases lack one very important element that this release features: AL “GRAMPA” LEWIS.
I wonder what look the tattoo artist would give me if I asked them to put this image ON MY FACE.
Going to and from the dead silence of the movie to the silly Grampa stuff is a bit jarring, no question, but it’s also kinda funny in its absurdity.
The outros for these tapes were by and large dedicated to pushing the tape series as a whole. Besides the scroll of (supposedly) available titles I mentioned earlier, Grampa gave info for where/how to buy these back in the day. You could order direct if so inclined, price and address were provided, but with the possible exception of the actual listing of titles, the defining moment comes, in my opinion, here, when Grampa shows home viewers the “Casket of Horrors,” which you were supposed to look for at your local video store. (Remember those?)
Yes, it was a specific store display from Amvest, letting you know their wares were appropriately spooky. I can’t make out anything Grampa-specific on the display as provided for this segment, but it does look like some images of Universal monsters might have been used for advertising. Besides the fact I’m not sure such a thing was even allowed, it’s also a pretty brazen move; aside from (obviously) the Phantom, you just weren’t going to find any of those actual movies coming from Amvest. Films and/or stars that are in the same vein or that recall those big time flicks, sure, but the real things themselves? Ain’t no way, b!
I have no idea if this “Casket of Horrors” display was ever (widely?) produced and used in actual stores, I’ve never seen one come up for sale nor have I ever heard of anyone recalling them, though of course that doesn’t definitively mean anything one way or the other. But the theme and very idea behind it, not only is it “Halloween cool” by itself, but also a spiffy reminder of that era in home video stores.
And really, these videos in general recall that period in home video history. Tapes (and VCRs themselves) were becoming more and more accessible to the general populace, rather than the expensive luxury items that could be more rental-only than owned-outright. ‘Course, sometimes this was at the expense of quality, don’t forget these Grampas were budget tapes and often looked it, but there was an organic charm to all of this that would be increasingly, erm, decreased as the years went by. They may have been cheap and occasionally cheesy, but budget tapes back then could almost have a do-it-yourself, homemade feel to them that felt (feels) more endearing than the progressively-homogenized offerings of subsequent years.
Okay, so when all is said and done, what do we have here? A public domain, music-less, worn out copy of 1925’s The Phantom of the Opera, but bookended by goofy Al “Grampa” Lewis host segments.
So, best home video release of the film ever? Well, maybe a top five’r, anyway!
Happy kinda sorta Halloween gang!
THE NORTHEAST OHIO VIDEO HUNTER 