The Golden Globes
“Megan Mullally attacks Sharon Stone at The Golden Globes.”
A few people have asked me if I’m homophobic. For the record, I’m neither straight nor homophobic…I’m just a really REALLY bad homosexual. I hope that clears everything up.
As operas go, the Met’s “Die Walküre” belongs right up there with the Empire State Building, Toys “R” Us and the Circle Line boat tours. It is hardly a triumph of art, but it’ll probably be a whale of a tourist attraction. It is Las Vegas without the sex, Mardi Gras without the booze and Madame Tussaud’s without the waxy stares. You don’t watch it, you gape at it, knowing that nothing in Dubuque comes close.
As expected, the singers seem to have been an afterthought to the giant rotating adult toy, aptly titled “The Machine.” It rises, lowers, undulates, causes health risks and even functions as a set from time to time.
We open with a giant piano center stage, storms violently scudding across it’s keys. Then the keys rotate to create a forest; Then middle C breaks apart, and hangs center stage, representing what looks like a tree with a sword wedged in it. We’re apparently in a den of some kind, but it just looks like a giant tree is hanging perpendicular to a giant keyboard. Oh, and it’s snowing in the background.
Suddenly, Germany’s answer to Denzel Washington stumbles into the den looking drunk or weary (or both) and is discovered by Anna Nicole Smith. He looks like a refugee from the Tyra Banks show because he has horrible fake hair extensions and is wearing one of her glittery blouses with an epaulet on his right shoulder. It’s sort of like: if a disco ball wandered into your room wearing a Fabio wig and a tortoise shell.
All hopped up on Oxy-Cotton, Anna Nicole instantly falls for Das Tenzel Vöshington and decides to nurse him back to health.
Suddenly, Anna Nicole’s first husband, Hunding, enters. He looks at her, then back at Tenzel Vöshington, then back at her, then back at Tenzel Vöshington. “Meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies unt Gentlemen…vat zah hell ish going on in eere?” Anna Nicole retorts, “I think you’re fucking stupid…”
Baron Grumpy von Hunding Pants asks Tenzel Vöshington “Vaht ish your namen DICKVAD?” Instead of simply answering the question, Tenzel Vöshington (who it turns out is actually named Sigmund) replies, “Vell you kahn’t khol miene shtory heppy becaush miene shtory ish nichts heppy.”
Then Sigmund decides to play shadow puppets (for no reason) to tell the long and sad tale of his gruesome history…even though no one asked. The giant keyboard lowers to display a bunch of shadow cartoons courtesy of Disney. It’s not really clear what has actually happened to Sigmund (Tenzel Vöshington) because, as I said, it’s one f-ing LONG story, and all the shadows look exactly the same, so it’s not really clear who dismembered whom, or who made off with what corpse .
Once this exercise in literal-mindedness is finished, Hunding decides to kill Sigmund but, since it’s been a long day, he decides to kill Sigmund in the morning after he’s had his Shtarbucksen.
Anna Nicole, then reaches under the stage, and pulls out a giant bong. She then proceeds to stuff it full of PRIMO Mary Jane and gives it to Das Hunding. Hunding then falls into a deep DEEP sleep. It must have been some grade-A weed she gave him, because he manages to sleep through a loud love duet that spans the whole of winter and, I’m guessing, the first two months of spring.
Queue the love duet. It’s long. But the most important thing to note is they’ve both been sitting in front of the giant middle C with the sword sticking out of it for about two hours now. It’s, literally, been hanging over their heads.
Sigmund: You’re hot. Alzo miene faza said zat I vould pull a schvord from a tree?
Anna Nicole: Really? Well the only sword we have is that one (points to giant middle C.) My father predicted some hunk would pull it out someday. Hey, you look a lot like him.
Sigmund: Ja, you look A LOT like miene faza too. You even have hish woice; And hish hair; And hish eyes; And hish hot tempah. Boy zat schvord looks a lot like za one I’m supposhed to hef one day.
Anna Nicole: You don’t say? Well, I guess we’ll never know. You have my dad’s skin tone…and his DNA. Boy small world huh?
Sigmund: (Pulls the sword out from the giant middle C.)
Anna Nicole: Oh my god! EPIPHANY! You’re my brother! Let’s get married.
Sigmund: Okay…but virsht vee hef zex…lotsh and lotsh of zex.
Anna Nicole: FINE BY ME!
Anna Nicole then launches into a long extended aria about how much she loves her brother…in all the wrong ways. Sigmund fusses with his weave while pretending to listen to her.
Finally Sigmund’s long flowing locks are on full display, the music swells, the keyboard lowers, Anna Nicole faints…
Some Black-and-White Frame Story
[A nurse wheels Vicomte Raoul de Chagny into the decrepit old opera house for an auction. We know she’s an official nurse because she has a gigantic stork-like white nurse hat. A woman, who is clearly either Madame or Meg Giry because she is played by Miranda Richardson, recognizes Raoul, but does not go to him.]
AUCTIONEER: Let’s see—Lot 665, one creepy-ass ugly monkey found in the Opera vaults. Any takers?
SOME MADAME GIRY: Me, me!
RAOUL’S NURSE: Him, him!
AUCTIONEER: Sold! To the ancient gentleman with the Flying Nun. Moving on to… Lot 666, the Broken Chandelier OF DOOM—
ASSISTANT: And exposition.
AUCTIONEER: —OF DOOM AND EXPOSITION!
SOME GUY IN THE BACK: Why in the hell would anyone want to buy a giant broken chandelier?
AUCTIONEER: It’s a piece of history that figures in a deep and tragic mystery! Also, we wired it with electric bulbs. Look, it goes from cold to bombast in five seconds!
[Apparently the chandelier is also a time machine, because we are blasted back into 1870, a halcyon time marked by its love of garish opulence and naked gold women. LOUDLY.]
[Judging by the costumes, Hannibal apparently crossed the Alps on several Raggedy Ann dolls after he ate all the elephants.]
LEFEVRE: These are the two new managers, Firmin Something and Andre What’s-His-Name, and this is our new patron the Vicomte de Chagny. I am leaving because this whole freakshow is giving me ulcers. Best of luck, break a leg, enjoy your phantom, au revoir!
FIRMIN: Whoa, check out the blonde with the headlights.
MADAME GIRY: Zat ees mah DOTTAIR.
FIRMIN: Oh. Well, what about the hot brunette?
MADAME GIRY: Zhe es LAIK mah dottair.
ANDRE: Hey, we’re all French, right?
FIRMIN: Last time I checked, yes.
ANDRE: Well, then why is she the only one with a French accent?
RAOUL: Yeah, yeah, wonderful rehearsal, I gots to jet. Here’s 500 francs, call someone who cares.
[The women discuss the exiting Hotness de Chagny:]
CHRISTINE: He didn’t even recognize me! Sigh. We were total childhood sweethearts, and we used to play together and everything, and he used to call me—
MADAME GIRY: Christie?
MADAME GIRY: Tina?
LA FAMILLE GIRY: …
FIRMIN: Please, we grovel on our knees and kiss your satin ass, Carlotta. Please sing for us already, because it’s kind of dirty down here—
ANDRE: And I have arthritis!
CARLOTTA: Fine-a. I singa for you.
thinka me fondleEeEeEeE,
when we’va saida
A FALLING BACKDROP: *puts everyone out of their misery*
FIRMIN: Oh, thank God.
A FALLING BACKDROP: Don’t mention it.
CARLOTTA: YOU INSULTA MAH GENIUS! I LEAF AND MAH DOGGEH LEAF TOO! SCREWA YOU ALLA!
ANDRE [whacking Firmin upside head]: Great, now we can’t have our gala tonight.
MADAME GIRY: Christine can zing eet. P.S. Ze opéra ghost wants ’is paysheck.
FIRMIN: You’re sure? Well, start from the beginning of the aria, then.
CONDUCTOR: I can’t find any “aria.”
ANDRE: The beginning of the overwritten pop ballad, whatever.
[Christine can totally sing it. She blows everyone away, and we dissolve to…]
Some Gala Performance
[…Christine going to Opera Town on the ballad.]
MADAME GIRY: I am zo glad Empress Sisi’s hand-me-downs fit ’er.
Some Gothic Little Chapel
MEG: Wow, you were great! Who’s your voice teacher?
CHRISTINE: Well, you know, my dead father said he would send me an angel, so I’ve been praying, and you know what? He did! The angel hides in my closet and sings to me!
MEG: Hon? I think you may be wrong in the head.
Christine’s Dressing Room
RAOUL: Baby, you were so great. Dinner’s on me.
CHRISTINE: Oh, I couldn’t possibly go out this late. You see, I’ve been visited by the Angel of Music.
RAOUL: Sure you were, baby.
CHRISTINE: No, really, I was! In a completely literal and non-metaphorical way!
RAOUL: You just put on something nice and I’ll be right back.
CHRISTINE: But—well, there he goes. Well, what should I wear for dinner? I know—a dressing gown that shows off my new lace garters!
[Outside, the Phantom locks Christine’s door while Madame Giry stands guard, essentially pimping out her almost-daughter. Ew. Back inside:]
ANGEL OF MUSIC: RAAAAA!
CHRISTINE: Oh shit.
ANGEL OF MUSIC: Babyface back there better STEP OFF if he knows what’s good for him.
CHRISTINE: I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fraternize with boys please don’t leave me!
RAOUL [outside, banging on door]: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THERE?
CHRISTINE: Come to me and hide no longer, Angel!
RAOUL: ARE YOU IN THERE WITH SOME VAMPIRE?
[But Raoul is too late, because the mirror has opened and Christine has been pulled through by… an “angel” in formal wear. And a mask. Well, half a mask.]
INCREDIBLY ‘80S MUSIC: DUHHHHHH! DUNDUNDUNDUN DUHHHHHHH!
CHRISTINE: Wow, I had no idea all these gold candelabra arms were right behind my room.
THE ANGEL OF MUSIC: Yeah, I got ’em cheap off some beast. You like?
[The Angel then takes her through the opera house basement on a horse, then by a ferry, then a stagecoach, then a steamboat, then a biplane with a layover in the fourth cellar, and finally to a gondola. They are serenaded by electric guitars and waterproof candles.]
CHRISTINE: Are we there yet?
THE PHANTOM: No.
CHRISTINE: Are we there yet?
THE PHANTOM: No.
CHRISTINE: Will we get there any faster if I flash all of my thigh and possibly more?
THE PHANTOM: …Yes.
Some Underground Lair
[He takes her to an underground lair looking suspiciously ripped off the set for “I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Can’t Remember the Rest of This Title).” There, she is touched by an angel. Of music. A lot. At this point in the book, Christine realizes that the “angel” is just some mortal weirdo and freaks out. Movie!Christine doesn’t seem to make this distinction for at least another hour. We will start calling him “The Phantom” anyway.]
THE PHANTOM: Welcome to my lair! Let me show you around!
THE PHANTOM: My Wall of Crazy!
THE PHANTOM: My terrifyingly detailed Opera House dioramas and voodoo dolls!
CHRISTINE: I like the colors!
THE PHANTOM: And here’s my cherished My First Wedding Christine doll! Look, it’s life-size!
CHRISTINE: WAHHHH. [faints]
THE PHANTOM: Oh dear.
Christine’s Dressing Room
MEG: Christine? You in here? Hey… what’s with the mirror? It’s… a door… and it’s a two-way mirror…! Well, clearly I have got to track down this pervert even though I’m still in my tutu.
[The passage looks nothing like the one Christine saw. In fact, it’s kind of dark and slimy.]
A RAT: Hey, baby.
MADAME GIRY: Marguerite! You weel leave ze passazh alone, please!
MEG: But Christine is missing! And there’s this total peeping Tom mirror door thing, and she’s probably been kidnapped by some stalky jerkwad!
MADAME GIRY: And… your point ees…?
Wherever It Is That the Dancers Hang Out
BUQUET THE STAGEHAND: …And in the book, he’s got a hole where his nose ought to be, and his hands are cold and he’s like a cadaver all over!
SOME DANCER: But what about in the movie?
BUQUET: In the movie? He’s got a terrible… third degree… SUNBURN!
THE DANCERS: *scream and faint dead away*
Over in 1919
METHUSELAH RAOUL [clutching monkey box]: Mmmmf.
SOME MADAME GIRY: Awww! The Vicomte remembers me!
Some Underground Lair
CHRISTINE [waking up]: What the crap is this musical monkey box? And I’m in a… swan bed? Whatever. So. Let’s see. I remember… a lot of candles…
A LOT OF CANDLES: *flicker*
CHRISTINE: …a horse…
HORSE: Neigh, baby.
CHRISTINE: And a big lake, and a boat… and some guy.
THE PHANTOM: [writing music]: Mornin’.
[She goes over to the Phantom and touches his face and he seems to dig it.]
CHRISTINE: So, I’m gonna take your mask off.
THE PHANTOM: Okay.
CHRISTINE: Peeling it off as we speak.
THE PHANTOM: Ten-four.
CHRISTINE: It’s totally coming off.
THE PHANTOM: Sure, have a party.
THE MASK: *comes off*
THE PHANTOM: OMG YOU TRAMPSLUT WHOREBITCH HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
CHRISTINE: But I—you said—
THE PHANTOM: YOU CAN NEVER EVER LEAVE MY BATCAVE NOW THAT YOU HAVE SEEN MY ACCURSED RADIATION BURNS!
CHRISTINE: I don’t—it’s just—it’s not even that much of your face!
THE PHANTOM: *fumes*
THE PHANTOM: Whatever. I guess it’s time to take you back now.
The Lobby of the Opera
ANDRE: Carlotta won’t sing and Christine has gone missing and we have NO CAST.
FIRMIN: Hey, it’s all publicity, and publicity is worth its weight in naked gold women.
ANDRE: NO. CAST.
FIRMIN: Oh, by the way, why’d you send me this stupid note?
ANDRE: Send you a note? You sent ME a note!
RAOUL: Both of you sent ME a note!
CARLOTTA: ME AND MAH DOGGEH TOO!
EVERYONE: Wait, what?
ANDRE: My note says “Fire Carlotta”!
FIRMIN: My note says “Pony up my cash”!
RAOUL: My note says “Keep your filthy mitts off Christine”!
CARLOTTA: Mah nota say, “You suck, and so do the doggeh!”
MADAME GIRY: Look, ze Phantome zends you ze notes. And ’ere ’e zends anothair: “Make Christine ze lead tonight, or Ah make ’oo zorry. And put zat cow Carlotta in ze zilent hrole.”
ANDRE: Oh, WHATEVER.
CARLOTTA: I do notta sing where I am notta wanted.
FIRMIN: Oh, come on, Carlotta! Everyone loves you! Look outside!
SCREAMING CROWD: WE LOVE YOU, CHRISTINE!
CARLOTTA: I hate-a you alla so verreh, verreh much.
MADAME GIRY: Eet ees all hright, because Christine ’as come ’ome, and zhe can zing eet.
CARLOTTA: WHATTA TIME IS THE SHOW?
Il Muto, Later That Night
[Il Muto seems to be about a giant pink poodle-lady who may or may not be having an affair with a page boy who may or may not be an actual boy, played by an actual girl (Christine). People watching the movie who have never seen a real opera make a note not to start going now. We know that the Phantom is going to wreak havoc on the show because we have seen him playing with his Opera Dollhouse of Crazy.]
CARLOTTA [shoving Christine]: Outta mah way, toad!
THE PHANTOM [backstage]: GRUMBLE GRUMBLE TOAD RASSAFRASSIN’ GRUMBLE…
CARLOTTA: I am so gladda to have my throata spritz!
[The Phantom has switched Carlotta’s throat spray with something ass-nasty. Let’s see if she notices.]
CARLOTTA: *spritz spritz* It taste-a little different tonighta, but—AHHHHOOOOAAAAACKKKKUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHA!
CAST OF IL MUTO: Flee the stage! Run for your lives!
FIRMIN: THE BALLET! PUT ON THE BALLET!
STAGEHAND: Bring out the dramatic sheep!
ANDRE: NO, YOU FOOL! THE COMEDY SHEEP! BRING OUT THE COMEDY SHEEP!
THE DANCERS: *prance*
THE COMEDY SHEEP: *baa*
[Meanwhile, the Phantom is up in the rafters playing cat and mouse with Buquet.]
THE PHANTOM: Quick as a cat! Quick as a cat!—I NOOSE YOU!
BUQUET: *falls dead onto the stage*
THE AUDIENCE: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
THE PHANS: OMG WHERE IS THE FALLING CHANDELIER?!
FIRMIN: No panicking and no refunds! What, are you going to let a little murder get in the way of your high culture? SIT BACK DOWN!
ANDRE: Christine Daaé will play La Carlotta’s role after a brief intermission! SIT DOWN!
The Roof of the Opera House
RAOUL: Why did you drag me up here?
CHRISTINE: Because the Phantom will kill you if he sees you with me!
RAOUL: Oh, shpfff. There’s no Phantom.
[The Phantom who does not exist is watching them from behind a statue.]
CHRISTINE: Yuh-huh! We had a sleepover and everything! I’ve seen his face, Raoul!
RAOUL: OMG YOU SAW HIS FACE?
CHRISTINE: It was terrible!
RAOUL: How terrible?
CHRISTINE: Well… not really all that terrible, it wasn’t even his whole face—it wasn’t even really half his face…
RAOUL: IT SOUNDS SO TERRIBLE.
CHRISTINE: And I mean, really, it’s not like he’s a leper or anything… really, you could just have him sleep on the right side of the bed and he’d look just fine if you were lying on the other side… really fine…
RAOUL: YOU MUST BE TRAUMATIZED. TELL ME YOU ARE TRAUMATIZED.
CHRISTINE: Well, there was that whole murder thing just now.
RAOUL: Atta girl! I will love you and marry you and hold you and protect you and spend my whole life keeping you AWAY FROM HIM.
CHRISTINE: Awww! That’s so sweet.
THE PHANTOM: GRRRRRRRRR.
CHRISTINE: What was that?
RAOUL: I don’t know and I don’t care.
[Raoul and Christine kiss.]
THE PHANTOM [sobbing]: I will have my revenge!
THE PHANTOM [sniffling]: Okay, now you’re just rubbing it in.
Il Muto, Three Hours Later
ANDRE: …And I’m sure Mademoiselle Daaé will be here any minute now. Aaaaaany minute now…
Over in 1919
UGLY MONKEY BOX: He’s still old. I’m still creepy.
METHUSELAH RAOUL: Mmmmf.
UGLY MONKEY CYMBALS: *ching ching*
[Firmin wears ram horns and Andre has a rooster hat. Carlotta goes as Boobzilla.]
CHRISTINE: Hmm. Everyone’s dressed in black and and white and gold. I think my giant pink dress will blend in just fine, particularly if neither of us wear masks, even though we’re on the downlow.
RAOUL: Why must we sneak around like this, Christine?
CHRISTINE: Our engagement must be secret, Raoul! I know—I’ll hide the big sparkly ring in my cleavage! No one EVER looks there!
[Suddenly, the lights drop and the music goes evil and the Phantom enters dressed as the Red Death, or the Spanish Inquisition, or something.]
THE PHANTOM: NO ONE EVER EXPECTS ME!
[The Phantom has brought a copy of his masterpiece, which he hands to the terrified managers. He draws his sword and starts taunting various party guests.]
THE PHANTOM: Let’s see… Managers: idiots… Carlotta: stupid cow… Who are you? I don’t even know your name.
SOME OPERA SINGER GUY: P-P-P-Piangi, sir.
THE PHANTOM [poking with sword]: Oh, that’s right. Well, you’re a tubby bitch.
RAOUL: OMG SWORD! I KNEW I FORGOT SOMETHING!
CHRISTINE: RAOUL, WHERE ARE YOU GOING? YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!
THE PHANTOM: Oh, and the lovely Christine, who would be a perfect lead for my opera except for the fact that she is a CHEATING WHORE who prefers the Missing Hanson Brother to me.
RAOUL [running back in]: I KEEL YOU!
[The Phantom grabs the engagement ring off the chain around Christine’s neck and disappears in a blast of fire that apparently comes from a giant opening in the floor that no one ever noticed before. Raoul leaps in after him. He finds himself in a hall of mirrors—]
RAOUL: Well, it’s more like a small room, really.
[—and the Phantom taunts him—]
THE PHANTOM: HA HA!
[—but Raoul just swings and misses over and over again.]
MADAME GIRY: Oh, for ze love of God, get out of ’ere.
RAOUL: Where did you come from?
MADAME GIRY: Zat door hright zere.
SIGN ON THE DOOR: “Open in Case of Emergency or Plot Dead-End.”
MADAME GIRY: Come on, I weel tell you all.
Madame Giry’s Room
RAOUL: So, what’s the deal?
MADAME GIRY: Well, zere was zees traveling circus and stuff, and all ze little ballerinas went to zee eet, and Erik—
RAOUL: Who’s Erik?
MADAME GIRY: You know, ze Phantome.
MADAME GIRY: Anyway, Erik was zere, and—
RAOUL: Hey, is that Swedish?
MADAME GIRY: How ze hell zhould I know? L’anyhoodle, zey ’ad ’im caged up as a fhreak—
RAOUL: With a c or with a k?
MADAME GIRY: LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO HEAR ZE STORY OR NOT?
RAOUL: Sorry, sorry.
MADAME GIRY: ANYWAY. Erik was being ’eld ’ostazh in Ze Elephant Man and I boosted ’im out and ’id ’im in ze Opéra and ’e’s been zere in ze cellars ever zince. Fin, finito, ze end. You happy?
The Opera Stable
CHRISTINE: Do you think this dress is low-cut enough for a trip to my father’s grave?
CARRIAGE DRIVER: DADDY ISSUES AHOY!
[When Christine isn’t looking, the Phantom sneaks up, clocks the driver, and takes his place.]
THE PHANTOM: And if I hold my hood up to my mask with one hand and drive with the other, she’ll never, ever notice!
CHRISTINE: Honestly? I probably won’t.
[Five minutes later, Raoul wakes up in a chair outside Christine’s room and notices that she’s gone.]
RAOUL: OMG! WHERE DID THEY GO?
CARRIAGE DRIVER [rubbing bonked head]: Damn if I know! She was wearing a boobtastic black dress, that’s all I know.
RAOUL: TO HER FATHER’S GRAVE!
[Raoul turns and gets a quick primp in, courtesy of some reflective surface nearby. Let’s say it’s a window.]
CARRIAGE DRIVER: You’re going to go dressed like that? In just an open shirt?
RAOUL [fluffing hair, arranging open collar]: There’s no time to get a coat, man! [Leaping on white stallion bareback:] To the cemetery, Snowflake! Away!
Some Graveyard with Classy, Classy Naked Statues
CHRISTINE [singing sadly]:
You were once
my bosom companion
but now my tears
wet lots of tissues.
You were once
my dad and best friend—
but now you’re dead
and I’ve got daddy issues.
VOICE FROM THE DAAÉ TOMB: Christine! Come to me!
CHRISTINE: Daddy? Is that you?
VOICE FROM THE DAAÉ TOMB: …Sure, if that’s your kink.
[Raoul rides up, leaps off his white charger, and tosses his hair urgently.]
RAOUL: Christine! That’s not your dad! That’s just the Phantom!
VOICE FROM THE DAAÉ TOMB: NO IT’S NOT! I’M TOTALLY HER DAD! DADDY LOVES YOU, CHRISTINE!
RAOUL: Oh, COME ON, Christine! You hung out with this guy! You fell in love with his stupid voice! You ought to be able to recognize it!
CHRISTINE: Well, it does sound kind of familiar…
RAOUL: And you saw his face, right?
CHRISTINE: Well… yeah… I mean… he bears kind of a passing resemblance to my father… I mean, aside from the giant Sunburn of Doom… He really looked like my dad when we were singing about the Music of the Night and he was running his hands all over me.
RAOUL: YOU ARE WRONG IN THE HEAD.
THE PHANTOM: I KEEL YOU, FABIO!
[The Phantom leaps out of his hiding place on the tomb and jumps on Raoul, and they start running around the cemetery, clashing swords and desecrating graves.]
CHRISTINE: Hey, you guys—?
CHRISTINE: You guys—!
THE PHANTOM: *SLASHITY!*
CHRISTINE: It’s kind of cold out here—
FANFIC WRITERS: Did someone say SLASH?
CHRISTINE: My boobs are kinda getting frostbitten, could we—
CHRISTINE: —could we wrap this up sometime soon—
THE PHANTOM: I NICK YOU, FABIO!
RAOUL: AUGH! THAT WAS MY PREENING ARM!
[Enraged, Raoul gets the upper hand and throws the Phantom to the ground, but can’t quite bring himself to kill him, because he is a puss.]
CHRISTINE: Come on, Raoul, let’s just go home.
RAOUL: But—but I could kill him right now! I mean, if I tried really hard!
CHRISTINE: But if you do that, the movie is over, and I’ve got at least three more costume changes to get through.
RAOUL: Really? Do they have cleavage?
CHRISTINE: Beyond your wildest dreams.
RAOUL: Well, saddle up and let’s go!
THE PHANTOM: THIS IS WAAAAAAAAR!
Raoul Hatches a Brilliant Plan
RAOUL: Okay, you guys? I’ve just had the best idea ever. Let’s actually stage the Phantom’s stupid opera and put Christine up there on stage and then he’ll come for sure, but—wait—wait for it—we’ll have umpteen hundred police dudes with, like, muskets and shit waiting for him.
FIRMIN: And if we had any idea how he sneaks in and out of the theater, or where any of his superninja trapdoors are, that might actually work.
RAOUL: I told you it was good.
Over in 1919
UGLY MONKEY BOX: What are you looking at me for? Look, I’ll call you when something happens.
Some Gothic Little Chapel
CHRISTINE: Raoul, please don’t make me do this. He’s probably just going to kidnap me again and besides, your plan really sucks.
RAOUL: IT DOES NOT!
CHRISTINE: And if he kidnaps me again, I’m going to be stuck down there forever… getting sexed up until the end of time, or until one of us dies from the massive amounts of constant, 24-7, day-and-night sexing.
RAOUL: He’ll probably make you sing, too.
CHRISTINE: So… what time does the show start?
Don Juan Triumphant
[The Phantom’s masterpiece is being staged with Christine dressed as a sexy, sexy peasant. Umpteen hundred police dudes with, like, muskets and shit are waiting in the shadows for him. Onstage, there’s a bunch of dancing and crap and I don’t know why Carlotta is involved in this at all.]
PIANGI!DON JUAN: You will dress up as me, Passarino, and I will run off with her because she will think I am you and then she will be mine! [Exit Piangi.]
PHANTOM!DON JUAN: Oh, I love the smell of irony in the morning.
PHANTOM!DON JUAN: Whatever. [Strangles him.]
[The Phantom cruises on stage in his cute little Zorro mask, confident that no one will notice the difference until it’s too late.]
SOME MIDGET: Hey, isn’t our Don Juan short, Italian, and tubby?
CHRISTINE: Oh shit.
THE PHANTOM: I sing of seduction and surrender in a completely non-metaphorical way!
CHRISTINE: I kind of dig this.
THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS CORPS DE BALLET: *shimmies*
THE PHANTOM: I sing of really unsubtle metaphors about flames and racing blood and opening buds!
CHRISTINE: Ooo, tell me more.
THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS DEATH DANCE TROUPE: *bunny hops*
THE PHANTOM: BE MINE FOREVER AND I WILL CONSUME YOU IN A COMPLETELY NON-FIGURATIVE WAY UNTIL THE BREAK OF DAWN!
[Christine deploys her collapsible bodice, leaving her shoulders completely bare.]
THE DREAD PIRATE ROBERTS PEP SQUAD: *frugs*
FIRMIN: Please. Shoot them. I’m begging you.
CONSTABLE: Should we shoot the Phantom?
ANDRE: Nah, let him keep going.
CONSTABLE: But—he’s on the other side of the stage from Christine. Clear shot. We could totally take him down, man.
ANDRE: Nah, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s not like he could escape or anything, or has ever done that before.
THE PHANTOM: Wear this ring and be mine FOREVER.
CHRISTINE: Wait, isn’t this Raoul’s ring?
THE PHANTOM: Well… yes.
CHRISTINE: So… who does that engage me to, exactly…?
THE PHANTOM: Well… it engages you to… wait…
[Christine rips off the Phantom’s cute little Zorro mask, revealing a monster with half his face burned off and his eyelid all messed up and half his hair greying and fallen out… despite the fact most of this wasn’t covered by the little Zorro mask, and it looked fine two minutes ago.]
THE PHANTOM: WAHHHHHHH!
EVERYONE ELSE: OH MY GOD, HE’S SLIGHTLY UNATTRACTIVE ON ONE SIDE! TO ARMS!
[The Phantom cuts a couple of well-placed ropes, plunging him and Christine through a convenient trapdoor.]
THE PHANTOM: I built it all myself! And I bet you’d be impressed, if you weren’t a TOTAL SLUTBITCH WHORETRAMP.
[And then the giant chandelier falls.]
THE PHANS: GOD, FINALLY.
FIRMIN: Nobody panic!
[There is a stampede, the gas lights on the chandelier explode, and the Opera House bursts into flame.]
ANDRE: EVERYBODY PANIC!
The Opera Cellars
[The Phantom hustles Christine through the underground passages, bitching at her all the way:]
THE PHANTOM: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!
CHRISTINE: Well, damn, I didn’t know all your hair was going to fall off, too!
[Meanwhile, an angry mob is looking for the Phantom. Madame Giry leads Raoul in a different direction.]
MADAME GIRY: I weel take you to Christine. Kip your ’ands at ze level of your aiz.
RAOUL: My who at the level of my what?
MADAME GIRY: I must go—it would make too much zense for me to come with you ze hrest of ze way. If I were Perzhian, I would do it, but—no. Best of luck!
[Raoul goes deeper into the cellars—and promptly falls into a pit full of water. That has a mechanized grate closing over it. That keeps pushing him under the water. Before he drowns, he swims down to the bottom and find a rusty old wheel that he manages to turn just in time to lift the grate. This scene is kind of pointless.]
The Phantom’s Lair
CHRISTINE: Please don’t make me wear—hey, this is actually a really nice wedding dress.
THE PHANTOM: Too bad you’re going to have to look at my HIDEOUS FACE FOR ALL ETERNITY, WHORE.
CHRISTINE: Seriously? It wouldn’t be that hard if you weren’t SUCH A WHINY BITCH ABOUT IT.
RAOUL: OH SNAP.
[The Phantom opens the gate and allows Raoul to wade into his lair. This should be everybody’s first clue that something is afoot.]
THE PHANTOM: Hey, could you stand here by the gate for a moment?
RAOUL: No problem.
THE PHANTOM: Awesome. Hold this rope for me while I tie you up with the other one.
RAOUL: Sure thing.
THE PHANTOM: HA HA! I HAVE YOU NOW, VICOMTE!
THE PHANTOM: AND NOW I STRANGLE YOU WITH THE OTHER ROPE!
RAOUL: Ohhhhhh, my hand at the level of my eyes—NGGGGGGHHHHHHH!
THE PHANTOM: Marry me or I kill him!
RAOUL: Don’t do it ChristiNNNNNGGGGGH!
CHRISTINE: Wait, so… if I really love Raoul, I’ll marry… you…?
RAOUL: No, Christine! I fought so hard to set you freeNNNNNGGHHHHH!
CHRISTINE: So… I choose you… the Phantom kills you… and he holds me captive anyway?
THE PHANTOM: MOO HA HA.
CHRISTINE: Hmm. This is a really good excuse to mack on this guy the way I’ve wanted to for the whole movie anyway.
THE PHANTOM: What?
CHRISTINE: I KISS YOU!
[They kiss for, like, five minutes. It is a good kiss.]
THE PHANTOM: *bursts into tears*
CHRISTINE: Awww! He’s so sensitive!
THE PHANTOM: *sniffle*
CHRISTINE: Why don’t you ever cry when I kiss you, Raoul?
THE MOB [in the distance]: WE COME FOR YOU, PHANTOM!
THE PHANTOM: Go, both of you! Forget me! Be happy!
CHRISTINE: But you still have plenty of time to let him go or kill him or whatever—
CHRISTINE: And carry me off somewhere!
CHRISTINE: They’ll never find you in here! You could ravish me and everything and no one would be able to stop you. You could totally get away with it!
RAOUL: Oh my GOD.
THE PHANTOM: No, no. The jig, she is up. Go with the man you love and be happy. Get out of here. Beat it. Scram.
RAOUL: Come on, Christine! Let’s go! I’ve got his gondola! Hurry!
CHRISTINE: Oh, fine.
The Phantom’s Lair, Five Minutes Later
[The Phantom is woefully playing with his monkey.]
UGLY MONKEY BOX: GOD, not like THAT, you pervs.
THE PHANTOM: Christine? You came back?
CHRISTINE: I just wanted to give you the ring. You know. As a token. Of my eternal… affection. Yeah. “Affection.” And my phone number. And my forwarding address.
THE PHANTOM: Go, Christine! The mob is coming!
RAOUL [throwing Christine over his shoulder]: Oh, for the love of…!
CHRISTINE [shouting back to the Phantom]: Don’t be a stranger!
[And then the Phantom smashes a bunch of mirrors and sneaks out through a secret passage and the mob comes and Meg Giry finds only his mask left behind. I mean, just so you know.]
Over in 1919
[The Flying Nun wheels the Vicomte through a cemetery to a gravestone that reads, “CHRISTINE, COUNTESS DE CHAGNY, BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER.” She has died very recently.]
METHUSELAH RAOUL: Mmmmf.
UGLY MONKEY BOX [woefully]: *ching ching*
[He sets the ugly monkey box down at the gravestone… and notices that someone else has been there first. And left a rose. With the engagement ring tied to it.]
METHUSELAH RAOUL: MMMMF!
UGLY MONKEY BOX: OH SNAP. *ching