Most everyone I know has seen The Phantom of the Opera. And most of them aren't quite sure when they saw it. After all, its London, Broadway, and touring productions have spilled into four decades, and my own guess was off by years when I finally pinpointed 1995 as the year of my first encounter. And for many, a single visit can be both satisfying and sating. So what to do when a new touring production promises a fundamentally different experience?
If you want to trade some of the gauzy magic for a little more efficiency, a concept devised, says director Laurence Connor, in the name of changing audience sensibilities (but also acknowledged by producer Cameron Mackintosh to be easier to tour), you might want to head to the Orpheum Theatre, where the production is in residence. Enough of the spectacle and high-stakes melodrama of director Hal Prince's original production is present, and Andrew Lloyd Webber's driving music can still thrust you forward. You can then add in the curiosity factor about the changes to the original production – if it indeed remains a potent recollection.
But that curiosity can only carry you so far, as key images are erased and the replacements are generally inferior. The most obvious addition to the production is the large cylindrical drum in Paul Brown's set design, looking dully like an industrial cistern until it revolves or opens to reveal different set pieces. It's interesting to watch how it unfolds, and the best new special effect is the downward spiral of treads that erupt from the cylinder just in time for the phantom and his protege songbird to take their next steps. But gain one, lose another, as the waves of costumed revelers no longer have a grand staircase to descend in spectacular fashion to open the second act.
Of course, all the accoutrement is supposedly there to serve the content of the show. Granting a certain amount of inspirational credit to Puccini, Rossini, et al., Lloyd Webber's music swoops and swirls and bores into your brain. The musical's dullest stretch, and that stretch now seems longer than remembered, is when Lloyd Webber gives up his inspirations and composes in the mediocre voice of the phantom himself, who has forced the opera company to produce his work, and a lot of mediocrity is served up without much spin on it.
The current cast is generally a capable lot but can't quite put its own stamp on the outsized material. The title character has relatively little actual stage time, but the performer must still somehow establish dominion. Chris Mann is fairly underwhelming in the role, although he does throw off more sparks as the musical reaches its climax. (Three actors will sub for Mann for various stretches during the SF run.) Katie Travis does what is needed as Christine Daae, the virginal innocent the phantom has under his spell. As the heroic Raoul, Storm Lineberger is missing some dash in his dashing. Even imperious opera choreographer Madame Giry, a role that can effectively be played just by painting by numbers, is missing heft in this production.
Finally, attention must be paid to the iconic chandelier that usually disappoints in its leisurely descent to a crash-landing on the stage. The current chandelier drops faster, seems to be equipped with Roman candles, but then stops midway down its fall. Tragedy has been averted, even though we are told at the start of the show that its crash was a tragedy. It's easy to see the chandelier as a gimmick, and add fireworks if you must, but at least let the darn thing actually land.
The Phantom of the Opera will run at the Orpheum Theatre through Oct. 4. Tickets are $50-$225. Call (888) 746-1799 or go to shnsf.com.