entertainment 'Phantom By Greg Lukow Phantom of the Paradise is a hip comic book come to life. It , is pop, groupie culture at its best: grotesquely caricatured and exaggerated, a gawdy, colorful rock-horror show. For the record, it is our F BONANZA EIY TUESDAY I NEGHT EUB-EYE SPECIAL 1 Served with baked potato 3 ' i v . 1 I and crisp salad, with a l&U f " I choice of I - 1 9 dressing, and ffnrjin J f,.-g l . I I t&il I x , V1"-"- ? 1 I Good wholesome American food ;; x--" I I at right neighborly prices. 1 Ph ,, JustleaueuswUhasmiler 0 htt Complete selection of ARP's keyboard synthesizers only at Sound City Music. Lincoln's exclusive ARP dealer. 9th and N St. 475-5128 Fine itaiian Food I 35th 1 Hoi droge 70th i Han Born 1 487-3811 483-2611 I V CLOSED LIOKDAY CLOSED TUESDAY I This Wednesday is special student night at Valentines party room. All the pizza and ft pop for only $2.25. Look for details in Wednesday's paper. . U liilS: J Sunday Thursday 4pa-CI:dt ' g Friday 4pia-t2:30 am x ..Saturday 4pm4Mm of Paradise comix culture fourth remake of The Phantom of the Opera, originally a silent starring Lon Chaney. But instead of the secret underground sewers beneath a Paris opera house, writer-director Brian de Palma has placed his phantom amid is here the patch panels and mixing decks of an ultra-modern recording studio. The Paradise is a decadent rock gallery, constructed by a millionaire-producer called the Swan, a mysterious hybrid of Phil Spector and Citizen Kane. Th( Phantom's name is Winslow Leach, a discouraged, tragic songwriter who has his face permanently embossed in a record press. The part is hammed up nicely by wide-eyed William Finley, but the real star of the show is sinter-composer Paul Williams. Swan is an appropriite name for this white-haired, dimpled urchin who supposedly has written some fine pop material that usually ends up being performed by people like the Carpenters and Three Dog Night. People haven't paid much attention to Williams before this film and I doubt if they will afterwards, but his music does work well here. When combined with de Palma's rapid fire pacing and perfect editing it creates a rhythmic movie that is nearly a rock opera in itself. De Palma is yet another of those promising young American directors, his most notable effort being the critically acclaimed Sisters, a minor little horror study that spent most of its time knocking around summer drive-ins. greg lukow De Palma has obviously had fun with Phantom; it is full of little inside movie jokes. Swan has a fat, greasy promoter named Philbin, (after Mary Philbin, the trembling, curious heroine who yanked Chaney's mask off in the original Phantom), and there is one scene in which de Palma films a shot-by-shot recreation of Hitchcock's shower-knifing sequence from Psycho. So far, de Palma's principle asset is that he is a talented director who does not appear ready to jump into the mainstream of commercial film-making as some of his peers, like Coppola, Scorsese and George -Lucas, have done. Despite a surface shallowness, he has spiced up Phantom just enough so that it is its own reward, which is more than can be said for other modem, camp-horror remakes like Paul Morrissey's Frankenstein, a movie we didn't need. Phantom at its best gives us a delightfully offbeat laugh at the glitter'n gold that has replaced the rock 'n roll in a slick, hollow culture. It is at its worst only in those brief moments when it indulges in that same spoon-fed culture. Showcase to feature experimental films This semester's Film-makers' Showcase, presented by the Sheldon Film Theater, will feature Storm De Hirsch, an experimental film maker who is noted for her unique technical use of color and visual expression. Eight of De Hirsch's films, varying from ten to 80 minutes in length, will be shown at 3 and 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. On Tuesday three short films, Third Eye Butterfly, The Tattooed Man, mi An Experiment in Meditation, will be shown. Wednesday features a series of shorts, Hudson River Diary, along with a trilogy of shorts entitled The Color of Ritual, The Color of Ihought. On Thursday, a feature film, Goodbye in the Mirror, will be presented. All the films are free. monday, march 17, 1975 at its bes Bv David Ware Brian de Palma's Phantom of the Paradise, showing at the Hollywood and Vine Theater, is an uneven, quirky movie th... emerges, in spite of its uneven texture, as curiously impressive film displaying flashes of genius and a real love by the producer and director for the film's leal subject: Rock n' Roll. Taking bits and snatches from The Phantom of the Opera, Faust, Vie Picture of Dorian Gray, and Trilby, de Palma has fashioned a nightmarish sparkling image of the self-destructive twilight cosmos of rock. The shining jewels of the piece, though, are composer Paul Williams, and new face Jessica Harper. As Swan, the shadowy, behind-the-scenes rockmeister, Williams is smooth, impossible to ruffle and innocuously siniste r. The advertisements read, "He sold his soul for rock n' roll," and this is a fair reduction of the film's theme. He is a baby-faced immortal serving the devil and making a profit. This invocation of the Faust theme is humorous yet chillingly effective, especially so in a flashback showing Swan being signed up by a devil who bears his own cute, puggish face. As the composer of the film's score, Williams re-inforces my earlier opinion of him as one of the greatest living pastiche artists. Ilis score is a loving yet faithful amalgam of elements lifted from the past two decades of rock, mixed with consummate care and concern. The real shows topper, though, is Harper as Phoenix. Almost unspeakably beautiful, with a voice to match and an unconscious fluid dense of movement, she is superb and quite possibly worth the price of admission. More important than Harper's transcendent loveliness or Williams' craftsmanship is the message hurled by de Palma in the last few frames. As Swan and his nemesis Leach lay dying on the stage of the Paradise Theater, with glorified groupis Phoenix looking on in horror, de Palma reminds us that there is no glory, no touching demise for the stars or the starstruck. This sobering realisation provides a measure of salt for, and toughens the substance of Phantom of the Paradise, making it an honest portrait, without tears, of the subculture that has grown up around rock music. page 12 daily nebraskan