I'd like to share with you all an excerpt from my book about one Hollywood icon who is nearly forgotten by people today, yet he was definitely a genius at his craft, and a true pioneer of Hollywood.

It's not Douglas Fairbanks Sr. nor Charlie Chaplin, but I think you'll still find him very interesting.

please, share..

Okay, as promised, and although this is a Natalie Wood forum, no one seems to object, so here is my story on another Hollywood legend (Copyright 2006-2008 by Michael J. Eastman):



Lon Chaney (1883-1930)


They respectfully dubbed him “The Man of a Thousand Faces,” due to his eerie ability to transform himself into various types of horror or sorrowful characters via both makeup and pantomime. Lon Chaney, born Alonzo Leonidas Frank Chaney on April 1st, 1883, in Colorado Springs, Colorado, carried his own makeup kit and didn’t need a makeup artist to change him into one of his strange or spooky characters. He was the makeup artist, as well as the performer. When not in makeup, he resembled a cross between Humphrey Bogart and Jimmy Cagney. He wasn’t really an ugly man in real life, like the ones he portrayed in film life. He actually had a rather distinguished look, like a man who knew what he wanted in life, and knew how to go about getting it.

Well, if you know anything about Lon Chaney Sr., you probably think of him first as a gross-looking, almost monstrous figure from such roles as The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923), and The Phantom of the Opera (1925). However, many do not know that Chaney really did much more than just horror flicks or roles that required a great deal of makeup to make him look ugly and scary. I realize this is the Scary Stars chapter, but if would be a serious injustice to overlook Lon Chaney’s entire career, albeit as an overview, without including his more serious roles. In some of his films, he was the leading man performing roles of a heroic tone. Films, especially like The Mark of Cain (1916), where he double-crosses his crime boss to restore his reputation in front of both his mother and his girlfriend. In a more famous role in Tell It to the Marines (1926), Chaney’s Marine Sergeant O’Hara is one tough cookie, ending up a wounded hero involved in a rescue mission.

What you might not know much about is the personal life of Lon Chaney. Well, you wouldn’t be alone there. Lon seemed to have gone out of his way, really, to avoid giving interviews or insights into his personal life. It’s not that he was a rude man, or a stuck up individual who thought himself better than others. No, Lon Chaney just simply preferred to keep his private life private. He was not one to go out on the town in Hollywood to flaunt his stardom in front of others. He was not a regular at the “in” clubs or other places of business. He enjoyed both his professional life, as well as his personal life, but wished to keep the two very separate. On those rare occasions when a reporter was granted an interview, Lon would dance around questions and not really offer much to go on as far as how he spent his personal time. He, instead, preferred to talk about his acting. It was well known, however, that he and his second wife Hazel enjoyed getting away from all the glitz and glamour to spend time together in the woods and mountains, cooped up in their cabin in the Eastern Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, or out fishing in the surrounding lake. Even when Lon knew he was dying, he took one final trip out to his cabin to take in the tranquility, but was too weak to fish. It would have better had he died there, rather than in an old hospital, since nothing could be done for him, anyway. But let’s not put a damper already on Lon’s story with talk of his passing. It was his life that was the real story here.

Growing up in Colorado Springs, Colorado to deaf and mute parents, Lon Chaney was pretty much forced to learn less-traditional ways to communicate. His desire to communicate with his ma and pa was likely the main reason he became the expert pantomimist he was. What better training grounds for a future silent film actor! Lon’s maternal grandparents – his mother Emma’s parents – founded the Colorado School for the Deaf in 1874 in Colorado Springs. When his father Frank Chaney made Colorado Springs his hometown, there at the school he met Emma. He was not a student there, but the school doubled as a social gathering for all the deaf and mute of the community. The school still stands today, by the way. Despite his parents’ physical limitations, Lon is said to have enjoyed his childhood, nonetheless. His younger brother George once revealed that Lon felt that, despite the toughest of circumstances in a child’s life, there was always an opportunity in youth to find happiness. This philosophy sort of echoes my own sentiments that I mentioned in the opening chapter of this book. Seems Lon also found both solace and joy in other things to distract him from his inability to have a normal parent-child relationship with his folks. He played football and baseball like other kids his age, had his share of true friends, and even stumbled into one distraction that became a lifetime event – working in the entertainment business.

I’d like to offer you two facts that will really fall into what Lon Chaney’s life, and more specifically, what his spirit was all about. You will see what a loving person this tough guy really was.
Among his friends, when at a time when most Americans looked down on their black (or at that time, “Negro”) neighbors, Lon welcomed their friendship. He made childhood friends with a black family in his neighborhood that would see three sons become filmmakers, and one of the brothers even became an actor, himself. His name was Noble Johnson, and his two brothers were Virgil and George. Meanwhile, while his father Frank worked at the local barbershop cutting hair, Lon attended elementary school. However, while in the fourth grade, Lon’s mother Emma, shortly after giving birth to Lon’s younger brother George, developed inflammatory rheumatism, which landed her in bed for many years. There was no way father Frank could stay home to tend to his ailing wife, as they needed the money he made from the barbershop. Frank’s first son John also had to work to help make ends meet. So, the burden of care fell to young Lon. He had to drop out of school to care for his mother, in addition to his two younger siblings, sister Carrie and baby George.

So, since it was up to Lon to play housemaid and babysitter, he had to make do using his hands and facial expressions to communicate with his mother. He would tell her all about the day’s activities, as well as, presumably, if the children were behaving or not. This, undeniably, greatly helped Lon develop his non-verbal communication skills that he would later need to perform the multitude of film roles that were to come. Because he became a master communicator, he won movie roles early on in his career as a bit part actor where other Hollywood hopefuls stayed on the proverbial “casting couch.” When he was a teen-ager, he joined his brother John in the employment of the local Opera House, working as a prop boy for a meager seventy-five cents a night. This was the beginning of a long career in show business for Lon Chaney, and he never forgot his humble beginning. He joined the Stage Hands Union, later renamed the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees (LATSE), and to the day he died, he maintained his membership in the union. He also never disrespected those lower-paid members of a studio he worked with, nor those of a picture he was working on. This respect earned Lon Chaney a great love and admiration by all those who worked with him. They saw he didn’t place himself above themselves, as far as thinking he was a better person, even though he was obviously an icon in the business.

By the time Lon was 19, he managed to work his way from behind the stage, to being an actor on it. On April 19th, 1902, Lon Chaney officially debuted as an actor in the stage production of The Little Tycoon, presented at the Opera House. For this performance, The Colorado Gazette lauded him as both a funny man, and a terrific dancer. They suggested one would be hard-pressed to find a better dancer even among the best that Vaudeville had to offer at that time. Incidentally, the only recording of Lon Chaney dancing on film is from his 1915 film Fascination of the Fleur de Lis, one of his earliest films. The film remains only in fragments today, but, for the record, that was the only time he’s shown dancing on film. While Chaney enjoyed limited success as a stage performer, he would really hit his mark later in pictures. Meanwhile, in 1905, while in Oklahoma City for a show, he met and married a young singer named Cleva Creighton. They would name their only child, a boy, after its parents’ last names, Creighton Chaney. The boy later grew up to follow in father’s footsteps as an actor, and changed his name to Lon Chaney Jr. After a suicide attempt by Cleva backstage during one of his nightly performances, Lon Chaney was left disgraced in the business, once the media had a field day with the event. Poor Lon became pretty much blacklisted, as a result of the incident. But as they say, one man’s (or in this case, business’) trash is another’s treasure. Lon loved acting, but found that being dishonored in his beloved profession left him out in the cold. You might say that he was more or less forced into the movie business, now that his stage career was all but over. True, he might have found lesser employment as a performer on smaller type stages, but the money definitely would not have been there, thus, no future, really.

So, while one door closed for Lon Chaney, another, and more prestigious one opened for him, though he wasn’t sure of it until later. Off to the movies went Chaney. But, it wasn’t love at first sight for movie-making producers when they saw him. No, Lon would have to first pay his dues, like any other former stage show performer (or anyone else, for that matter). He would kick off his film career by appearing as an extra in films, hoping to catch a break, and catch the eye of some hot-shot producer who would really get his career going. He would join others in the long lines as extras, and take his turn hoping to be hired. When casting directors would come back and ask for a guy who could play a Russian prince, for example, Lon stood up and volunteered, saying, “Yes, I can play a Russian prince!” When they’d come and ask, “Anybody here do a Chinaman?” or “Anybody here play a college boy?” Lon would be there again and again, ready for whatever task they had in mind for him. He was very versatile, and found work much faster than the other hopefuls due to his knack for applying make-up that made him look like just about any character a studio might need for that day’s shooting. Since he was his own make-up artist, Lon later in his career usually had his characters in make-up photographed first to see what would work on film and what wouldn’t. Unlike those other actor hopefuls in line, he carried his own make-up kit, and this now-famous kit he used, is today on display at the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History. If you ever get a chance to visit this museum, definitely seek out this unique item! Lon’s make-up kit even once appeared in one of his films, in a scene from the now-lost London After Midnight (1927). Before there was Planet of the Apes, there was Lon Chaney appearing in 1922’s A Blind Bargain (also now lost), in which he played an ape-like hunchback. This role would open the door to one of his most famous roles in 1923, that of Quasimodo, in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Lon Chaney’s film career began at Universal Studios in 1912 doing bit parts like the aforementioned character types whenever called upon by casting directors. But three years later, in 1915, Lon became a regular of Universal’s acting members. By 1918, though now somewhat a proven commodity, he was still only taking home $5.00 a day at Universal. He decided it was time to ask for a raise – a $125.00 a week raise – in addition to a five-year contract. Universal’s studio manager at the time, William Sistrom, rejected Chaney’s request, however, telling him he would never be worth that kind of money. (How wrong he was!) Angered, Chaney walked out of Sistrom’s office and into unemployment once again. Before things got too frantic for Chaney, western film star William S. Hart noticed the unemployed actor and offered him roles in some of his pictures. Hart had previously seen Chaney’s work on film, and was impressed, even if the Universal heads weren’t. Chaney was not only lucky to meet Hart, but would be forever in his debt, as he found new success in Hart’s films. So successful was he, that Chaney’s old employer, Universal, hired him back, settling on a new financial agreement, one which both parties could live with.

Once the ink dried on Lon Chaney’s new Universal contract, he immediately went to work and would go on to much success. It all really started with his first big role, which would be his coming out party. Director George Tucker, in 1919, offered Chaney the role of a cripple in a film called The Miracle Man. Lon was wise enough to realize that this was the role that would make or break his longtime potential as a Hollywood actor, so he went for it. The Miracle Man became a blockbuster hit, and Chaney and Tucker became friends. The two planned to do many projects in the years to come, but an untimely death of his friend Tucker, halted those plans. Chaney’s career would not die, however. It would grow with his next successful picture, The Penalty (1920), in which he would play the sinister role of a legless criminal. The film’s director, Wallace Worsley, desired to use trick camera shots, but Lon convinced Worsley to allow him to do something different. Lon designed a type of harness that pinned his legs back against his thighs, thus disguising his legs, and would walk on his knees. The scenes would prove painful for Lon, but he endured them to make his character believable. This would be the first of many roles to come in which he would endure a bit of “torture,” for lack of a better word, in order to satisfy a character’s on-camera needs. Some have felt that Lon Chaney was a masochist, but those that knew him, personally, said after his death, that that was just a bunch of nonsense, that he would never have risked his health, nor his career for a single role. When you think about it, that does make sense. He knew where he had come from, and how hard the dues were that he’d paid, so why would he put his career in jeopardy? One must see that the make up, props, and wardrobe that Lon Chaney created and/or used for his film roles, were ones that would secure him into film immortality for all time!

When 1923 rolled around, audiences would be stunned, amazed, or in awe (or all of the above) with Chaney’s next role: Quasimodo in Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame. This film, which co-starred the lovely Patsy Ruth Miller, as Esmeralda, and veteran silent film actor, Norman Kerry, as Phoebus, would be released in September of 1923. This would be Wallace Worsley and Lon Chaney’s biggest endeavor yet, and perhaps, ever, for Chaney, unless you prefer his Phantom of the Opera to Hunchback. The Hunchback of Notre Dame would have easily swept the Oscars on Oscar night, had there been such an annual event in 1923. It definitely would have won Best Picture and Best Actor, and likely best cinematography and costumes, as well! It was that good, and is still available for your viewing pleasure today. See it, you won’t be disappointed, but remember to keep this, and all silent films you see, really, in perspective to the time they come from. As long as you do not place unrealistic expectations on the film, such as color, sound, e.t.c, you’ll enjoy the film. Listen to what the film critics of the day, such as Moving Picture World, had to say about this landmark epic:

“It is the sincere belief of the writer that in The Hunchback of Notre Dame director Wallace Worsley has created a motion picture masterpiece that belongs among the ten best ever produced. Possibly…ranked among the five best of all time. Certainly it is a masterpiece…Lon Chaney’s portrayal of Quasimodo, the hunchback, is superb, not only a marvel of make-up such as is seldom seen upon the screen and stage, but a marvel of sympathetic acting.”

The Hunchback of Notre Dame’s cost of production reached 1.2 million dollars, making it the most expensive film of Lon Chaney’s illustrious career. Production took seven months to complete, making it the longest production schedule of Chaney’s career, as well. For his memorable work as Quasimodo, Lon received $2,500 a week. Lon Chaney had arrived…Lon Chaney had finally arrived as a Hollywood icon and legend, and his stature would continue to increase as the following films would only add to this great man’s legacy as one of the greatest actors of all time, of any time:

The Phantom of the Opera (1925) - Directed by Rupert Julian, and co-starring Mary Philbin, Norman Kerry, once again, and the loveable character actor, Snitz Edwards. Moving Picture World, once again, praised the work of Lon Chaney, stating,

“Obviously the title role was one for Lon Chaney and he gives a superb performance. Here was another chance to distinguish himself as an unrivaled artist in character make-up and he has done just that.”

Among Chaney’s most famous roles, it has inspired six remakes, including the most recent one of 2004, starring the awesome Rossum – the lovely and beautiful Emmy Rossum – and her co-star, Gerard Butler. Unlike Chaney in his role as the Phantom, whereas his Christine Daae, played by Mary Philbin, did not outperform him, 2004’s Phantom (Butler) was clearly outdone by the performance of his co-star (Rossum). She was magnificent as Christine. You are immediately captivated by the lovely voice of Emmy Rossum. I must admit, however, when watching Emmy on stage in the film, I said to myself, “She’s very good, but Charlotte (Church) would have blown her away if she had been playing the role!” Well, at least from a singing point of view. Emmy, no doubt, is the better actress, and you need both for this role. I found Butler to be lacking, even downright annoying after a while, as the singing Phantom. But, we’re getting off the subject here. In 2006, The Phantom of the Opera became the longest running show to appear on Broadway. Long live the memory of the man who first made it popular – Lon Chaney!

Tell It To the Marines - The next great film for Chaney came in 1926, co-starring William Haynes and Eleanor Boardman. This was another of Lon’s bona fide gems, along with the previous two mentioned. By now, Chaney had moved over to MGM studios, and like many of its employees, became sort of like a factory worker, or just another number. Remember, studios were prone to be harsh to their talent, often times, no matter who the star was. You’ll read more about this in the chapter about Buster Keaton. However, MGM apparently held Chaney to a higher admiration than they did for their other employed actors. Was it because Lon was such a likeable man, or was it because he made the studio plenty of loot? Probably more the latter was true, knowing MGM’s early history. Tell It to the Marines took 57 days to complete, the longest schedule of any of Chaney’s MGM films, and was also the most expensive, costing well over $400,000 to make. This would be time and money well spent, however, as Chaney came through yet again with another monstrous performance (pardon the pun, as he did not play a monster this time around), playing a tough Marine sergeant. The film grossed record highs for MGM. This film would forever tie Lon Chaney to the United States Marine Corps as an honorary Marine. This was never more evident than when they showed up to honor the man at his funeral, and a Marine chaplain giving the eulogy. This film is also said to have increased recruiting for the U.S. Marines, much the same as at another time when Stripes and Private Benjamin helped boost recruiting for the U.S. Army after appearing on the silver screen.

London After Midnight - In 1927, Lon played a dual role in the now-lost mystery film. In this film, he plays both the hero and the villain. As a detective, he is supposed to be tracking down a vampire murderer, but he knows it was not a vampire who did the killing, because he is the vampire in disguise. This was another tough role to play, that of the vampire, due to the special make-up effects necessary to convince audiences he was indeed a vampire, by looking his scariest. Although this film is lost forever, it has been restored, to a certain degree, to where latter-day filmmakers use still photos from this film to create the illusion of a silent film. It is a very clever idea that actually works, if you have a good imagination.

Laugh, Clown, Laugh – Released in 1928 by MGM, Chaney’s young co-star was Loretta Young, making her feature film debut. Laugh, Clown, Laugh is a depressing, but well-performed, film by Lon Chaney. This was said to be among Lon’s favorites. Young owed much to Chaney for getting her career off the ground. She later credited him with giving her good acting tips, whereas the director would be rude to her when she gave less than perfect performances. This was par for the course for anyone who worked with Lon Chaney Sr.; they all had nothing but good things to say about their beloved co-star.

The Unholy Three – Was actually released twice, starring Lon Chaney, in the silent version, in 1925, and then as his first (and only) talking picture. The sound version, made in 1930, was sadly Chaney’s final picture. Chaney had made a stink about appearing in sound films. He didn’t want to mess with his legendary status, but his worry was unfounded, as audiences enjoyed his performance in The Unholy Three, both in the original silent version, and then again in the talking one, as testified by the $375,000 in profits. That was good news to nervous MGM bean counters, because the sound version cost $279,000 more than the silent version had. Unfortunately, Lon would die weeks after the release of The Unholy Three.

See also Oliver Twist (1922) – Lon Chaney plays Fagin in this Charles Dickens classic. His young famous co-star was child actor Jackie Coogan. Coogan would later tell of a great story how his own father warned him that Chaney would upstage him if he was not careful, knowing how good the elder actor was. Coogan later also seemed pleased to have worked with the “Man of a Thousand Faces”.

Now, let’s look at an interesting point no one may have ever considered. If you look back at the time Lon Chaney Sr. was famous, and you’ll remember earlier reading about Douglas Fairbanks Sr.’s life and career, you’ll notice that the two icons’ careers peaked at about the same time. Both Chaney and Fairbanks came from Colorado, and there were also many similarities in their backgrounds, in addition to their great careers paralleling each other’s, but neither Ron Chaney Jr., the great-grandson of Lon Sr., who runs Chaney Entertainment, Inc., nor Keri Leigh, who runs the Douglas Fairbanks Museum in Austin, Texas could verify that Chaney and Fairbanks ever even met each other, let alone knew one another. Ron Chaney, by the way, was a real jerk on the phone to me without cause, I’m sad to report, thus I cannot recommend contacting him, nor doing business with his website. You’d think the guy would be happy someone cared enough to honor his great-grandfather! He’s apparently decided to shame the family name, instead, by his actions. You would do much better to find more information on Lon Chaney via other online venues. My own opinion of the Chaney/Fairbanks relationship is that they certainly must have met before, and it is my theory, since there are no photos or records of the two icons together, that they must have had some type of quarrel, and became bitter rivals. I mean, for them not to have met would be like in modern times today, Clint Eastwood not ever meeting Paul Newman, Robert De Niro, or Tom Hanks, for example. It’s pretty much inconceivable.

When I asked my now-friend Keri Leigh of the Fairbanks Museum if she knew how Doug and Lon felt about each other, she gave me more than I bargained for.

“This is a really good question, one I have often wondered, too. Sadly, in years of pouring through interviews with both men, I can find absolutely nothing in regards to how they felt about each other. They never spoke of each other in print – once! Not one single quote in a newspaper or magazine could be found. So, it’s safe to say that how Doug felt about Lon is not a matter of public record. Being that Chaney so rarely gave interviews anyway, it’s also safe to say that how he felt about Doug is not a matter of public record, either. Too bad! From a point of pure conjecture, it always seemed to me that these two should have been the best of friends. Being born only six weeks and 60 miles apart, being of the same age and background, growing up in central Colorado and doing theater there, one might wonder if their paths ever crossed as teenagers. If so, you’d think these two would have everything in common and hit it off right away. But, we have no proof of them actually knowing each other way back then. However, Lon did live in Denver from 1897-1901, and being a stage-struck teen actor, it would seem only natural they might know each other, perhaps through Ms. Fealy’s acting school at the Broadway Theater. However, I’ve never been able to locate enrollment records for her acting school, so can’t say with any certainty that Doug and Lon studied together in Denver. I do know for sure they both worked for Frederick Warde on his tour of Colorado in 1899.

Their lives seem to parallel in many ways: both spent many years on the stage before going into movies; both had only one son, named after them, who followed them onto the screen and carried on their father’s tradition long after their deaths; both were visionaries who brought a certain persona to the screen, even if those personas were polar opposites (Doug always the hero, Lon always the villain); and, of course, both men became leaders of the film industry, leading the way for future filmmakers in each of their respective genres.”

When I asked her if Douglas Fairbanks had kept a competitive eye on Lon Chaney’s films while they were either in production or being shown on the silver screen at the same time his were, Leigh said that he definitely had.

“Doug certainly took notice of the larger productions Lon was doing, such as Hunchback and Phantom, because these films were in direct competition with his productions of Robin Hood and Thief of Baghdad! Phantom really got Doug’s attention, because he had been toying with the idea of doing a Technicolor feature film, and had surely heard of the ‘Bal Masque’ sequence that Lon was planning for Phantom. There is a photo of Doug visiting the Phantom set in 1924, probably to observe the Technicolor scenes being shot. (One year later, he would do The Black Pirate, and his Technicolor dreams finally came true.) However, Lon is not in this photo – it is just Doug with director Rupert Julian and co-star Norman Kerry. Yet and still, it seems somewhat odd that these two were not seen together publicly at all, and did not socialize. Lon never showed up at any of those parties over at Pickfair – not to say that he wasn’t invited, but by his own admission, he hated parties and wanted no part of the Hollywood ‘in crowd.’ There are no photographs of Doug and Lon together, and Lon was never offered a partnership in United Artists, which he was certainly a great contender for.”

She goes on to add,

“…these two were very much cut from the same cloth…and maybe that was a problem. Perhaps they were too much alike, which could have caused some friction between them, understandably. They were both strong-willed and stubborn, competitive, and ambitious…”

Keri Leigh closed her comments by dropping this bomb:

“One last thing I’ll mention on this, which always seemed rather odd to me: when Chaney died in August, 1930, all the studios in Hollywood shut down to observe a few minutes of silence – all except one – the Fairbanks studio did not halt production that day…also, Doug did not attend Lon’s funeral, which is also strange, as Doug attended the funeral of every Hollywood star, and was expected to make an appearance as ‘King of Hollywood.’ He was usually a pallbearer (as he was at Valentino’s funeral in 1926, and he didn’t even like Valentino, by most accounts!), but was nowhere to be found at Lon Chaney’s funeral. I always thought that was puzzling – Doug never missed a funeral.”

Speaking of funerals, during the making of The Unholy Three the second time around (the talking version), according to biographer Michael Blake, Lon Chaney knew by then, he was dying of cancer. His health had been failing, and he had a difficult time working on his last picture, at times, during shooting. After shooting was completed for The Unholy Three, Lon and his wife retired to their mountain cabin in California to catch some much-needed R&R. Unfortunately, Lon could no longer do the things he had liked to do while there like go fishing, hiking, or other physical activities. His body was too weak for any of that. It wasn’t long before he found himself in a hospital, battling the effects of throat cancer. On August 6th, 1930, Lon Chaney’s spirit left his body forever.

Because I have become such a huge fan of Lon Chaney Sr.’s I wanted to write a review of one of his most famous films. However, in my tribute, I have combined his silent version of The Phantom of the Opera with the modern, 2004 sound version, because both were equally stunning, visually, and creatively, in their own times. To compare the two, would not really be fair, so why not just honor the two as they are?

See The Phantom of the Opera, yes, see it, indeed! See it not only with your eyes, but also with your ears, and with your heart! See, hear, feel the music! Feel the passion, the drama, the emotion! Put yourself deep into the scenes as if you are really there experiencing it. It is you who are sitting in those luxurious seats that hold the fortunate guests of the Paris Opera House. Hear Christine’s voice ring out, echoing sentiments of love and life, and all the beauty that she possesses! Here then how her lover tries to win her heart. And hear the dreaded Phantom, himself, conniving to seclude her from all other competitors for her love. Now, see the face of the great Lon Chaney as the mask he has hidden behind is pulled from his face. Feel the horror at the first sight of it. He is angry! He is now in a fit of rage! Now, come forward to 2004 and hear the soothing voice of Emmy Rossum singing sounds of comfort to not only her Phantom, but to you and I, as well. Hear Andrew Lloyd Webber’s orchestra reach its crescendo as Emmy’s Christine takes you away to a place you never thought existed in your mind. She sings to you contentment and peace, and even love…this is The Phantom of the Opera, in its entire splendor. It is an opera like no other.

(And Lon Chaney was an actor like no other.)

<<<chirp, chirp, chirp>>>

Nice try again, Michael. That chirp, chirp comment was your own.

Uh, no it was not me, but I do find that quite funny and complimentary.

"Psst...Maryanne! Thanks!"

p.s. Dude, are you always a negative person?