The mythology of The Phantom Of The Opera has its roots in literature, specifically Gaston Leroux's 1911 novel. The iconic status of the story grew in early cinema and even crossed over into the trash movie genre with a Robert Englund slasher Phantom.

But it was Andrew Lloyd Webber who turned the Phantom into a commercial phenomenon, with the modern stage musical.

Now Webber & Friends are trying to kill it off.

Not intentionally, of course, but their new movie musical The Phantom Of The Opera is so dull, such a ghost of its former self, that the whole franchise could suffer.

Perhaps it is due to the regrettable choice of gloss-over director Joel Schumacher to helm the piece. While he occassionally scores with tough little films such as Tigerland, Schumacher usually directs big, empty spectacles and has killed a franchise before by making the travesty Batman And Robin.

On another note, perhaps the Webber musical is just a dreary enterprise when it is taken out of a live theatrical setting. Not everyone appreciates Webber's grand music and Charles Hart's flowery lyrics -- or even the chauvinistic story of a weak young woman who needs a man to save her.   

Personally, I don't have a problem with the music and find myself occasionally listening to the 1987 original cast album. The story is obviously quaint and pre-feminist. Get over it. So these are not the problems here, at least for theatre fans.

On screen, perhaps Emmy Rossum is too dull -- if strikingly pretty -- as Christine Daae. She looks like an ingenue but sits there expressionless, a fake French Barbie Doll, when the Gothic drama unfolds around her. She is an ornament for the boys to squabble over, not a real-life endangered heroine.

Perhaps Gerard Butler is too handsome as the Phantom/Stalker for this to work. Even when he is seen without his disguise, the disfigurement is really not that awful. Not for the psychological gymnastics he goes through.

As a result, Butler's big singing voice cannot convey the true torment of the title character. And it is the murky emotional depths of the man that should drive the story along.

The filmmakers don't do well in casting support players, either -- at least not in the manner in which they are used. Miranda Richardson is given a mousey look and a silly French accent to play the Opera's ballet mistress. Minnie Driver looks like a female impersonator and sounds preposterous as the blustery diva La Carlotta. Patrick Wilson may have talent (Angels In America) but in this one he is just a pretty boy with shiny locks as Vicompte Raoul de Chagny.

On the plus side, the production design is fabulous, if occasionally illogical for a "realistic" musical movie, which this one pretends to be most of the time.

Whatever the reasons for its mediocrity, this version of The Phantom Of The Opera is a clunker despite the effort that went into it, and for all the iconic history of the story.

(This film is rated PG>)