Masquerade NYC - 7/9/25 Review
Fondest greetings to you all…
It’s been almost a week and I can finally share what this insane experience was like. I’ve never felt a post show depression like it, this is a future of theatre, it’s made for phans of all kinds, etc, etc.
The secret password part was cool, and ours was dark seducer. I don’t imagine they’ll reuse passwords, but I haven’t seen anyone sharing theirs anyway, and I figure I’m in the clear.
Onto the good stuff:
Cast, E-C-R: Clay Singer, Riley Noland, Francisco Javier Gonzàlez
I was whelmed with the first few acts. The champagne served while a violinist heavily implied to be Gustave Daaé was great, and Mme Giry’s instructive opening where she does that some of you may recall bit along with teaching us the steps to masquerade, foreshadowed her import in this production. At this point, some of the more indulgent of us got refills of champagne as well…
Giry’s opening monologue, more or less:
The opera ghost is happy to have you at this preview of his new production. He wants you to know that we are still in previews and it is very much a work in progress so we thank you in advance for your understanding. Who remembers the story of the Phantom of the Opera? Those who do will be familiar with the story. Those who don’t are better off.
The doors on the other end of the room split open, and immediately masquerade starts up, loud and dazzling. The actors are charming and we raise a toast with our (mostly empty) champagne glasses.
- On a central dais where the masquerade dancers greet us, they later split as the overture/a generally spooky theme begins, and Erik walks up. Yup, he’s finally Erik. He’s oblivious to us for now, but Giry circles round holding a mirror to us, and then him— it shatters and silver confetti explodes. I did snag a piece.
- Interacting with the characters between songs during Hannibal and Think of Me was awesome. They’re all chatty and interested, and while I didn’t experience much of that myself, I didn’t mind. I was however handed a rose before ToM was done, told ‘for Christine’, and upon her finish we all tossed them in a great scene I felt really encompasses that romanticism of Opera culture.
- Spotting Erik is a great pastime. The sandbag that dropped was also fun, I think Piangi did a backwards somersault away from it.
- Erik and Christine sing Angel of Music pacing in a circle, on respective sides of a double-sided mirror rotated by staff. Each side was reflective, and I wonder what it would’ve been like to have Erik’s side be see-through. But you know what I don’t have to wonder? What it’s like to make eye contact with his reflection.
- We rush after them as he leads her through a parting wall and now it’s time for the title song. We were given fake candles as we passed, and all sat on these stone-like stools holding them in our laps— great ambiance.
- This area initially felt underdeveloped, but it doubles as the bar and cocktail lounge after the show, and concessions must be made in this space (ha) Though the ripping water reflection on the ceiling was a nice touch.
This is where I realized what this production had in store.
- Christine is delivered into the next room, a room of his lair. It’s not a house, not a Louis-Philippe room; this Erik lives in a lair and has made it somewhat homey, but mainly it’s a workspace. This room is somewhat barren save for a rounded corner-bed of blue velvet, with a side table holding the wind up monkey, a mirror on the wall behind.
- He carries her to this bed and hovers at her side, eyes raking down her body, and thoughtfully covers her exposed leg with her dressing gown. Before leaving he takes notice of the monkey, and a brass mask-face piece lying next to it. He puts it on the monkey’s head.
-He dips, she stirs but stays under. Erik comes back with a hat box and leaves it by the foot of her bed, and I think at this point he’s wearing the mandarin robe. Side note— every time Erik enters and leaves a scene, creeping about as he does, he touches shoulders, backs, etc as if we were stones on the wall. Totally chilling when you’re not expecting it and then a ghostly touch lightly drags over your upper back.
- She wakes, notices the box and opens it. This is our first (I think) instance of a souvenir note. Erik’s disembodied voice reads it aloud. Fortunately, I tracked down what it says…
My dearest Christine—
From now on this strange new world will be your home. You are a creature of beauty. Among darkness and fantasy, your dreams will begin. Remember, I am forever your Angel of Music.
- After giving the note to a nearby audience member she opens the gift and discovers a veil maybe 2x her body length. She walks to the mirror and puts it on, admiring herself, and then notices the monkey on the table with the little brass mask on it. She removes it and sets it on the table. Then it’s back to sleep.
I was too busy admiring the room because I anticipated we were about to leave. Then I heard an audience member gasp.
- At first I could only just see the hint of fingers along her side, but soon another hand emerged, and we fully realize that his disembodied hands are caressing her. She reacts favourably to the touch, and then, his entire head emerges and they nestle together. She draws her hand over his face, and he fades back again as she touches the mask. Then, the veil is pulled into the bed, creeping over her body until it completely vanishes. Loved it.
- Erik comes back in to check she’s still sleeping, and notices she’s taken the monkey’s mask off. He looks at her in almost surprise and then returns to the next room. We finally follow.
- Walking through his lair is so incredible, and every corner is packed with something. Most are automatons; an undulating, jointed wooden hand, simulating either dancing or caressing; a mounted mask which parts, opening and closing; a violin playing itself.
- We also pass a strange side-room of slatted boards, with an entry and exit point and a missing board to peer into. It’s against the wall and feels like something you’d see in a themed ride queue. Within are dozens of masks, and Erik had actually led an audience member through! Lucky her. You can also see the shattered mirror mask we all thought would be his default for the production.
- Into a next show room, and we are split in two sections sat facing each other. Between us on my left, a large frame like the revolving mirror from Angel of Music, behind which are two actors to model automaton versions Erik and Christine.
- They engage in an intricate dance, very vogue-forward, until he pulls a ring from thin air and proposes. She accepts, they kiss, and they go through the mirror-frame again. They kiss a second time, longer, and go still.
- Mme. Giry walks us through to a next room, where we pass a writing desk with a book/manuscript spread open and a magnifying glass on it— I tried to linger and examine everything but it’s impossible when you also want a good view of the next scene.
- We gather around her at a model of Il Muto from the 2004 movie, in front of which is a tall chair with a rose on the seat— presumably so no one will sit on it. Giry acts out the little models as voiceover of Erik reads his demands for the show; she plays it pretty comical and pantomime.
- Knowing this, we are allowed on to the next scene, and realize that it’s time for the first big moment if you don’t already count the title song.
- I was seated in front of this scene, though some audience members who were later in arriving got to stand along the wall behind his piano, and get an entirely new perspective on his composing/the unmasking. From what I’ve heard the piano is not much to look at from this side, having plastic keys. If you’re looking at the keys you’re doing it wrong.
- Christine remembers there was mist upon a lake what had a boat and a man. She walks up, does the unmasking, and—
Nothing. Not a damn thing. He hides his face with his hand the entire time; I bet even Christine didn’t get a great look. My expectation and consequent reaction took me out of the scene briefly, but I promise this isn’t to the detriment of the overall production. They’re building up to making a fantastic reveal out of minimal prosthetics.
- His anger fades and she comes up to offer the mask. And now we enter the Oh Shit phase of the performance.
“Christine, if you only knew what they did to me…”
Erik and Christine are standing, from my view, on the right of the room.
Young Erik, in burlap-sack mask, shirtless, torn trousers, suspenders, bare feet, dirty, is standing on the left.
Even with this reveal alone I would have been happy. Fortunately I had read one too many spoilers and I knew to stay close.
- This feral child runs from the room, stops to look at the one audience member that separates us, takes her hand and runs with her to the escalator that takes us to the next scene. I am right behind, and get a damn good view as he leaps up onto the moving handrails, looking over us, past us all. The coast is clear and he continues on.
- I audibly groaned once I saw the circus tent and mirror maze ahead. This is a most painful scene. I was virtually at the front of the line, right beside him, and he runs back through the maze (essentially a switchback queue) so everyone can get a good familiarization of who he is.
- In front of us, though, comes the cage. The carnival barker and circus performers are here, and they wheel out this maybe 4’x4’x4’ cage of horizontal bars.
-I hear young Erik screaming. He’s dragged back through the queue, and here’s something I never considered: the cage opens from the top. Inside on the bottom is a floor of newspapers, a cup, and a rudimentary wind up monkey. He’s thrown inside, and it gets worse; the cage is covered with a blanket and then a weight. He’s wheeled into the corner and I follow.
- I can’t keep my mind on the sideshow performers at all. They’re real talents from the Coney Island circus, and they do a fabulous job each— they were able to develop their own characters and roles according to their acts, and they perform their roles so well.
- Some of the performers walk around while their counterparts perform on stage; one had a great bit where if you tossed a (provided) coin into his open top hat and hit a bell inside, you got a shot of cognac. I missed, but I’m grateful to the gentleman that didn’t; we all got shots and it went down smooth.
- I couldn’t ignore Erik, though. The woman he’d originally led here was with him, too, and he handed her a note. Again I have tracked down what it said:
Erik—
From now on the carnival will be your home. You are a child of the devil. Among freaks and monsters you will find your kind. Forget you ever had a mother.
- Now, we are given a golden opportunity: to feed the freak! The blanket is drawn past and the carnival barker offers us popcorn to extend to the cage. I’ve heard in past iterations it’s been bread, but this feels more doable from a production standpoint.
- I called the act depraved. A performer rolled her eyes and said he was the depraved one. I fed him, and he must have noticed a detail. These actors pick up on everything…
- I notice he’s reaching out to me. Kneeling by the cage, he extends a finger to my shirt collar and touches the silver mask pin I put there. I could see this as being a cool point of origin in his story, where he sees a mask used for beauty and dignity. He retreats, and then—
He ties this around my wrist. My new prized possession, thank you.
- While all this is going on, another performer from the Coney Island circus, Anna Monoxide, is doing her awesome routine. Was fortunate enough to meet her after the show and get a fun business sticker from her!
- Finally it’s now the freak’s time to perform. They wheel the cage into the next room, which looks like a giant circus tent and is two storeys tall. We are invited to stand around the cage and the other half of the audience watches from the balcony above.
- Buquet is an audience member and a rambunctious, drunken one like that. He wasn’t in the previous room, but he makes his presence known here for Reasons. The carnival barker hypes up Erik’s act, and the blanket is partially lifted.
Two thin arms practically jump out through the cage bars, reaching to me. I can’t pay attention to what’s going on with the stage; I crouch and we hold onto each other. He’s shaking, and I think I told him it’s okay— what on earth do you say, when you know what’s about to happen?
- I retreat as they start to pull the blanket back. He is backed into the upper corner of his cage, feet on the bars, and is pulled out to perform. A rope is tied around him and then secured to a post; he is pulled up onto the stage and told to play the organ in the corner.
- He does this, and I believe a mix of the overture and Don Juan plays but I really can’t be sure. Apparently I sacrificed a lot of specific memories because I didn’t care about anything beyond the fact that I just held Erik’s hand in his time of need wHAT THE—
- We applaud and at this point, realize adult Erik is here. He’s in the audience, and approaches to the front of the balcony, watching on in hypnotized dread. Time for the grand finale.
- The barker wrestles with young Erik to pull the mask off, and nearly succeeds, but again he hides his face. Erik snaps, grabs a lantern from atop the organ and swings it against his head, knocking him out.
- We see a younger Mme Giry step to the forefront, and seeing her in plainclothes with her hair down is honestly pretty wild. She urges Erik to come away to the Opera where he will be safe.
This production actually has less murder— the allusion to Persia is cut, he does not kill his captor here, and whether he kills Piangi later is… we’ll get to that.
This sequence, until this point, was what I thought would be the highlight of the entire show. But this next scene hits even harder, and honestly, as does the one after. We see more personality from Erik, more of his motivations. And we see more interaction than I ever could have expected…
- We are now in a great stone room of the Opera. Underground, more likely, given the pipes along the walls and the darkness, however one wall is a slanted window that suggests it would be on one of the topmost floors. It is ambiguous.
- The room has a trunk in the centre, with a pitcher and rag. In the far corner is a wardrobe, with one door open, and with a mirror mounted on the closed door. To its left is the window-wall and to its right are the pipes.
- Young Erik has climbed these pipes like a monkey. I think I blacked out. He’s like 7 feet in the air.
- She sits on the trunk and calls him near. He descends and comes, but is wary of her. She has to patiently coax him to offer his hand, and when she begins to soak the rag and try to scrub his hand, he flinches away. It feels so natural. Eventually, he is sitting perched on the far end of the trunk, and as she works,
She sings learn to be lonely. I never thought I’d hear it live.
- He marvels at his clean hands, and she stands to pick up some discarded masks— I can’t remember if they were on the trunk or elsewhere in the corner. She offers him two; a painted, expressively sculpted gold one, and a simpler, white mask that covers the whole upper half of his face. He chooses the white one, and hides his face in his knees while he exchanges it.
- Adult Erik is watching this through the glass. It’s amazing how well he fades into the background; there must be so many times he was there and I didn’t even see him!
- Giry stands by the wardrobe, inviting him to look at his new face. He goes to hug her, and she does not hug him back. In some versions I heard she actually pushes him away. A last verse of learn to be lonely, and he is alone.
- Young Erik turns to the mirror, and I have a perfect view of his face. Unfortunately so does he.
Erik suddenly smashes his forehead into the glass, and it shatters not only the mirror but the mask. When he lifts his head, he now wears what’s left— a half-mask.
- He then looks through the open wardrobe and finds a black cloak, pulling it around himself. Now I can imagine what Giovanni must have seen in Kay’s novel, scampering around a building site. It was all too perfect.
- Adult Erik has entered the room, and the two regard each other. Young Erik creeps towards him, and slowly, the two embrace. Young Erik is practically hidden in his arms, and they pass through the glass together. We applaud like mad and I can’t believe I just watched my old fic play out. Shoutout to Tall Tall Shadow.
- Meg and Christine come in, and sing their little rendition of Angel of Music. They are interrupted by Mme Giry, who sends her daughter off to practice, and as she stomps off we now see where we’ll be going next.
- Adult Erik is standing hidden behind the wardrobe, a finger to his lips. I stare at him and nod— what a cool Easter egg!
- Giry tells Christine that He is pleased, and then we head into the next room. This is my favourite staging of the entire show and makes for a spectacularly dynamic scene.
- We are seated in two groups on either side of a catwalk above the stage. Above us hang ropes, pulleys, ladders and lanterns. Obscuring the ground are the curtain rods of the scenes below, and this is such a unique perspective as Chief of the Flies I think I need to draw it.
No Il Muto— just the music of the ballet implied to be happening below us.
- Meg is dressed in costume and dangling from the ceiling on a little arched swing, waiting for her cue where Joseph Buquet will then have her descend. He’s drunkenly harassing her, threatening to drop her if she doesn’t humour him (one kiss is all it takes to save your life, I think he says)
- She is terrified and left spinning and with the stage lights below, the danger feels incredibly real. He also begins antagonizing the Phantom. Yellow parchment skin, the nose that never grew, etc. Giry rescues her daughter and warns Buquet against this.
- Buquet continues drunkenly slagging off the Phantom, who is now having his fun. I felt a hand move past my back and looked up to see him stalking by— he’s difficult to track with how dark the edges of the room are!
- Ropes fall, then a lantern swings down from the ceiling that Buquet has to fix. Now he’s getting scared. A curtain begins to rise on its own; we see the silhouette of Erik swinging across.
- Buquet knows who is doing this and decides to lash out. He continues that the ghost was a freak that ran away from the only people that ever cared for him— wrong thing to say. Erik was only toying with him until now, but suddenly they’re face to face, and Erik pushes him off the platform.
Buquet is not hung by a rope. He goes splat.
- Erik cackles maniacally and playfully drops a rose down after him before disappearing again. We hear screams of terror from below and Christine rushes to the edge of our platform, looking down in horror. With a hand over her mouth, she turns and flees, and we follow, going up and up…
Now to our weather forecast.
It was a balmy mid-20s C, with clear skies and a full moon partly obscured by the taller neighbouring buildings. As for traffic, we had mild honking that was definitely distracting at times, but it was mostly novel to be on the roof at all. There aren’t many decorations at this scene, but given this is weather-permitting, that’s fair enough.
- All I Ask of You is delivered and on a raised platform behind them, part of the actual building, we see Erik creep up. (Showing here) It’s all fine and dandy but he ascended here via a ladder that is right next to where we pass to the next scene. He descends as we approach, and I mutter to my friend to walk slower.
This is, I believe, the most up close and personal opportunity you will get with Erik, and I watched the whole thing from over his shoulder.
He spied her thread bracelet and seemed entranced. Slowly he took her hand, staring at it, before reaching out to hold her face. They were like this for what felt like a minute, and I read in another review that someone not only hugged him here, but gave him a little gift. 11/10 opportunity, would be a hopeless voyeur to this again.
- He begins a slow, building maniacal laugh and takes off through the door Raoul and Christine left through; we carry on toward the back area of the rooftop, where the graveyard is situated. Wishing happens, and Francisco shows off his acting chops as a stubborn and insistent Raoul.
- Erik appears, they challenge one another, and for my 2004 fans the swordfight does not make an appearance. However as Masquerade was our opening scene, this is our Don Juan Triumphant reveal.
- Erik states he has written her an opera, and when he opens the manuscript, flames burst from the pages. I heard in some versions that it is first caught by Raoul, and then ignites when he opens it. Both are neat.
- Christine’s chains are still his, Erik reminds us, and he rips her engagement ring from her neck before vanishing back into the angel statue he emerged from.
- Don Juan time! As we descend a stairwell to the next scene, there is an adjoining platform where Giry stands. She looks at me and asks, are you a dancer? No, no I am not, but when Giry asks you to do something you do it. I say I can be, and she directs me to stand up there. I make mild help me eyes as my friend goes on without me.
- Another audience member is thankfully called up, and she teaches us both the hand gestures to Point of No Return. I can’t coordinate to save my life especially when compensating for the fact that the directions are reversed, but I finally remember I have peripheral vision and start copying the guest to my right. Giry is pleased; we continue on.
- Piangi is on the stairs as we pass, complaining about the new opera; I tell him I’m a huge fan as I pass and he seems loudly flattered.
- Our group is split into dressing rooms so the same scene can occur simultaneously with the actors revolving between. THEATRE!
- A variation of Notes begins as the Managers enter. The first is waiting tucked into a metronome; the actor did a fantastic job of keeping time to it as he read, which feels like a decent risk for some reward.
- Carlotta saunters in and is touting her throat spray. I’m close enough to her when she needs to discard it— she asks me to hold it, and I say of course, as my diva commands. She is very pleased and I ride that high all night. Should’ve known where this is going.
- Raoul and Christine arrive and complete their turn in Notes/Twisted Every Way. As we get to a break before prima Donna, the costume rack I’m sitting next to suddenly parts and I watch a white gloved hand replace the throat spray. Now I am implicated in this, thanks Erik.
- She returns to take it and croaks, glares at me, and runs off. Piangi is suddenly grabbed and dragged through the rack, and then Erik pops out:
Not to worry, friends; he has an understudy!
- Clay’s Erik really does delight in mischief, and at least for our performance, murder. The managers come back in and suddenly Piangi is thrust out onto the floor; they distinctly realize he is not breathing and quickly usher us out.
- We collect souvenir tickets to Don Juan Triumphant and pass a stagehand complaining about the show; I call that at least the drinks are free! I think he laughed; I didn’t hear anyone else chatting with him.
- We enter the same space as Hannibal, and I end up with a perfect front row seat to Don Juan. The choreography between Erik and Christine is the same as the automaton versions! No table, just the two of them in the centre. I think he’s wearing the gold mask he initially refused from Giry.
- After unmasking 1, he turns to our side of the room and pulls an engagement ring out of thin air as he sings the AIAOY reprise. Way cool to see up close! There’s also a quick change into her wedding dress.
- Unmasking 2 and we finally see it! The face! He takes a good turn so we can all feast our eyes/glut our souls. It’s a solid prosthetic, not a lot of paint/colour but the decision to reveal it now definitely packs a stronger punch.
- He becomes surrounded by Raoul and the managers, not the gendarmes, and starts to crumple. He is visibly shaking and panicking; above the chandelier begins to tremble. It’s like he and the Opera are psychically connected.
- Some have said this is a su*cide attempt, but we see no cut ropes, no commands; it simply happens. It drops a short distance and flickers, the cast reacts, and then Christine and Erik abscond together right before it drops fully.
- We return to the room where Masquerade was, with the central dais. He presents her a bouquet of red roses; the flower language in this production is neat since Raoul’s have all been white-pink. Christine throws them right back at him though.
- He looks absolutely humiliated to admit that he missed out on flesh-related joys. He’s kneeling in the centre of the dais now, shrinking away as she circles him— Riley’s Christine is an angry little tempest. Loved her.
- They have a guest, and this restraint is… interesting. Raoul arrives shackled at each wrist and ankle by ropes, like he’s a marionette being pulled backwards. I feel like since we see more of Erik’s backstory here, we could’ve exploited that and maybe even constructed a cage..? Just a thought.
- He’s wrenched to his knees at one point and Erik brandishes a rose like a weapon, dragging the stem along his neck/face. Christine later does this to Erik, holding a rose stem at his throat.
- Their kiss/es are sweet and genuine; she really doesn’t want to leave him. By contrast Raoul looks absolutely comical lying on the floor with these massive ropes attached.
- She releases him, and Raoul has to pull Christine— still reaching for Erik— away as track down this murderer plays.
- We believe Christine has returned— the actress approaches and they embrace! He takes his cloak, drapes it around her shoulders, and they sway together with her head tucked on his chest. He places the hood over her head, hugs her, and then the cloak falls empty.
She had never come back.
- Masquerade reprise and it’s devastating. He still has his little wind up monkey, and as the melody ends, his younger self appears by the dais. Erik turns, approaches, and standing in the centre of this platform again Erik watches the younger take off his sack mask.
My only gripe: this actor is not wearing a prosthetic. Maybe this is meant to be a metaphor that his face is now accepted/no different/nothing to be ashamed of. I still would have preferred a deformity.
The attendants now gesture for us to remove our masks, and we all do so. Erik turns slowly, looking around the room in awe with tears in his eyes. We watch each other for a good few seconds and I was very proud of my body for the lone, dramatic tear that fell down my cheek.
THE END.
Overall I adored this production and it introduces so much to the musical/ALW version of the character! Worth it and I will be going back as soon as I can.
Linked below are other reviews, should you want detailed recaps of other performances. Small changes make the development of this production very interesting, and from what I’ve seen of shows both before and after mine, it really feels like I got one of the best versions of events. But I’ll let you decide…
14/8/25, 8:15 pm
1/9/25, matinee
9/11/25, 7:45pm
TV Tropes
