Broadway San Diego's current presentation of Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera, running through September 13, is one of those increasingly rare productions that reminds you why the grand old musicals became grand in the first place. It is lush, enormous, unapologetically romantic, beautifully sung and constructed with such meticulous attention to detail that nearly every scene feels like a painting suddenly brought to life. The official production retains Maria Björnson's celebrated original design, Harold Prince's staging and Gillian Lynne's musical staging and choreography while incorporating updated technology for the current North American tour.
Having loved Broadway San Diego's recent production of The Sound of Music, I came away from Phantom with a similar feeling: some of these older musicals simply operate on a different scale. They were built during an era when theatrical spectacle meant vast physical sets, sumptuous costumes, full-bodied orchestration and actors who had to fill an enormous room with their voices and presence. When all of those elements are executed this well, there is nothing antiquated about it. It feels almost overwhelming.
And visually, Phantom may be one of the most intricate stage productions I have ever seen. The Paris Opéra House seems to expand, contract and transform before your eyes. Massive staircases materialize. Ornate dressing rooms give way to underground passageways. Candles appear from the darkness. A boat glides through the Phantom's subterranean world. Curtains, chandeliers, balconies, statues and pieces of scenery emerge and disappear with such fluidity that after a while you stop trying to figure out how they're doing it. The sets are not simply backgrounds. They create the world.
That same obsessive detail carries into Maria Björnson's costumes, which remain one of the defining visual achievements of the production. The extravagant opera costumes are bursting with texture and color, while "Masquerade" becomes an almost ridiculous explosion of design, movement and spectacle. It is the kind of sequence where your eyes cannot quite decide where to look because nearly every inch of the stage is doing something interesting.
Then there is the music. Andrew Lloyd Webber's score has been absorbed so completely into popular culture that even someone seeing the musical for the first time arrives knowing pieces of it almost unconsciously. But hearing "The Phantom of the Opera," "The Music of the Night," "All I Ask of You," "Masquerade" and the rest of the score performed live with an orchestra is an entirely different experience. The San Diego engagement includes local musicians alongside the touring production, with Isaac Hayward conducting Friday night's performance.
The orchestra sounded magnificent. There is a richness to hearing that famous organ thunder through the Civic Theatre that cannot really be replicated through headphones, television or film. The moment the overture erupts is one of those instances where you can practically feel the audience collectively straighten in their seats.
But one of my favorite technical elements was the sound design surrounding the Phantom himself. His voice doesn't simply come from the stage. It seems to travel through the theater - above you, behind you, off to one side and then somewhere completely different - creating the uncanny sensation that the Phantom genuinely inhabits the building. The effect is brilliant because it turns the Civic Theatre itself into part of the story. You understand immediately why the characters inside the opera house are terrified by a man they can hear but cannot locate.
That same obsessive detail carries into Maria Björnson's costumes, which remain one of the defining visual achievements of the production. The extravagant opera costumes are bursting with texture and color, while "Masquerade" becomes an almost ridiculous explosion of design, movement and spectacle. It is the kind of sequence where your eyes cannot quite decide where to look because nearly every inch of the stage is doing something interesting.
Then there is the music. Andrew Lloyd Webber's score has been absorbed so completely into popular culture that even someone seeing the musical for the first time arrives knowing pieces of it almost unconsciously. But hearing "The Phantom of the Opera," "The Music of the Night," "All I Ask of You," "Masquerade" and the rest of the score performed live with an orchestra is an entirely different experience. The San Diego engagement includes local musicians alongside the touring production, with Isaac Hayward conducting Friday night's performance.
The orchestra sounded magnificent. There is a richness to hearing that famous organ thunder through the Civic Theatre that cannot really be replicated through headphones, television or film. The moment the overture erupts is one of those instances where you can practically feel the audience collectively straighten in their seats.
But one of my favorite technical elements was the sound design surrounding the Phantom himself. His voice doesn't simply come from the stage. It seems to travel through the theater - above you, behind you, off to one side and then somewhere completely different - creating the uncanny sensation that the Phantom genuinely inhabits the building. The effect is brilliant because it turns the Civic Theatre itself into part of the story. You understand immediately why the characters inside the opera house are terrified by a man they can hear but cannot locate.
Isaiah Bailey, who stars as the Phantom, is exceptional. Bailey came to the role after appearing in Jesus Christ Superstarat the Hollywood Bowl and now leads this North American touring company. He has the enormous voice the role demands, but what impressed me most was how much he communicates beneath the spectacle. His Phantom can be commanding and frightening one moment and painfully vulnerable the next. "The Music of the Night" is obviously one of the show's signature moments, and Bailey absolutely owns it.
Opposite him, Jordan Lee Gilbert is wonderful as Christine Daaé. Gilbert's voice is effortless, controlled and crystal clear, but she also brings a wonderful old-fashioned movie-star quality to Christine that immediately reminded me of Emmy Rossum's portrayal in the 2004 film. There is something about her face, expression and almost ethereal stage presence that evokes Rossum without ever feeling like an imitation. Their scenes together are the heart of the production. The vocal demands on Christine are enormous, and Gilbert seems to float through them.
Daniel Lopez also makes an excellent Raoul, providing the warmth and conventional romantic heroism necessary to balance the Phantom's darker magnetism. The larger company is outstanding as well, including Midori Marsh as Carlotta, William Thomas Evans as Monsieur Firmin, Carrington Vilmont as Monsieur André, Lisa Vroman as Madame Giry, Christopher Bozeka as Piangi and Melo Ludwig as Meg Giry.
Yet no review of Phantom can avoid talking about the show's most famous cast member - the chandelier. And sitting anywhere remotely beneath the thing is slightly terrifying.
Opposite him, Jordan Lee Gilbert is wonderful as Christine Daaé. Gilbert's voice is effortless, controlled and crystal clear, but she also brings a wonderful old-fashioned movie-star quality to Christine that immediately reminded me of Emmy Rossum's portrayal in the 2004 film. There is something about her face, expression and almost ethereal stage presence that evokes Rossum without ever feeling like an imitation. Their scenes together are the heart of the production. The vocal demands on Christine are enormous, and Gilbert seems to float through them.
Daniel Lopez also makes an excellent Raoul, providing the warmth and conventional romantic heroism necessary to balance the Phantom's darker magnetism. The larger company is outstanding as well, including Midori Marsh as Carlotta, William Thomas Evans as Monsieur Firmin, Carrington Vilmont as Monsieur André, Lisa Vroman as Madame Giry, Christopher Bozeka as Piangi and Melo Ludwig as Meg Giry.
Yet no review of Phantom can avoid talking about the show's most famous cast member - the chandelier. And sitting anywhere remotely beneath the thing is slightly terrifying.
The chandelier traveling with this North American production is nicknamed "Gillian," after legendary choreographer Gillian Lynne. It is enormous: more than eight feet tall, nearly eleven feet wide, covered in more than 20,000 beads and weighing approximately 2,000 pounds. The current touring version is reportedly the largest working Phantom chandelier in the world. Knowing those numbers before watching it hang over the audience does not make the experience more relaxing.
The chandelier has effectively become a character in the musical. At the beginning of the show, its presence foreshadows the disaster to come, and when it eventually makes its famous descent, the effect is simultaneously thrilling and deeply unsettling. If you're seated beneath it, there is a part of your brain that understands perfectly well that structural engineers have inspected everything and that an enormous professional touring production does this multiple times every week. Another part of your brain is staring at a one-ton chandelier suspended over your head thinking, "Surely there was a safer seat."
The engineering behind it is almost as impressive as the theatrical effect. The chandelier consumes roughly one-third of a 53-foot tractor trailer, one of 17 trailers used to move the production, and the tour reportedly requires about 38 hours to load into each venue. Months before the company arrives, technicians survey each theater and work with structural engineers to ensure the building can support both the chandelier's weight and the dynamic forces created when it moves.
All of that engineering exists for a moment lasting mere seconds. But those seconds are unforgettable.
That is ultimately what separates a production like The Phantom of the Opera from so much contemporary entertainment. Hundreds of people and an almost absurd amount of machinery, craftsmanship, talent and preparation come together night after night so that an audience can experience something ephemeral.
The chandelier has effectively become a character in the musical. At the beginning of the show, its presence foreshadows the disaster to come, and when it eventually makes its famous descent, the effect is simultaneously thrilling and deeply unsettling. If you're seated beneath it, there is a part of your brain that understands perfectly well that structural engineers have inspected everything and that an enormous professional touring production does this multiple times every week. Another part of your brain is staring at a one-ton chandelier suspended over your head thinking, "Surely there was a safer seat."
The engineering behind it is almost as impressive as the theatrical effect. The chandelier consumes roughly one-third of a 53-foot tractor trailer, one of 17 trailers used to move the production, and the tour reportedly requires about 38 hours to load into each venue. Months before the company arrives, technicians survey each theater and work with structural engineers to ensure the building can support both the chandelier's weight and the dynamic forces created when it moves.
All of that engineering exists for a moment lasting mere seconds. But those seconds are unforgettable.
That is ultimately what separates a production like The Phantom of the Opera from so much contemporary entertainment. Hundreds of people and an almost absurd amount of machinery, craftsmanship, talent and preparation come together night after night so that an audience can experience something ephemeral.
And Friday night's San Diego audience was completely with it. There was a palpable sense of anticipation before the show began, and throughout the evening you could feel people reacting together - laughing, gasping, whispering, applauding and occasionally just sitting in stunned silence. The applause after the major numbers was tremendous, and by the curtain call the enthusiasm inside the Civic Theatre felt almost celebratory.
That communal reaction matters. Watching Phantom at home might allow you to appreciate the music and story, but it cannot reproduce thousands of people simultaneously reacting when the organ explodes through the room, the Phantom suddenly appears somewhere unexpected or that giant chandelier begins moving.
It also made me think again about why productions like The Sound of Music affected me so much. There is a sincerity and craftsmanship to these older musicals that modern theater sometimes seems almost afraid of. They are not embarrassed to be romantic. They are not afraid of beautiful melodies, giant emotional gestures, elaborate costumes or spectacular scenery. There is no ironic distance separating the production from its audience. Phantom wants to overwhelm you, and it succeeds.
The musical itself premiered in London's West End in 1986 before opening on Broadway in 1988, where it became the longest-running Broadway production in history before closing in 2023. Across its various productions, Phantom has been seen by more than 160 million people in more than 40 countries and 21 languages.
That communal reaction matters. Watching Phantom at home might allow you to appreciate the music and story, but it cannot reproduce thousands of people simultaneously reacting when the organ explodes through the room, the Phantom suddenly appears somewhere unexpected or that giant chandelier begins moving.
It also made me think again about why productions like The Sound of Music affected me so much. There is a sincerity and craftsmanship to these older musicals that modern theater sometimes seems almost afraid of. They are not embarrassed to be romantic. They are not afraid of beautiful melodies, giant emotional gestures, elaborate costumes or spectacular scenery. There is no ironic distance separating the production from its audience. Phantom wants to overwhelm you, and it succeeds.
The musical itself premiered in London's West End in 1986 before opening on Broadway in 1988, where it became the longest-running Broadway production in history before closing in 2023. Across its various productions, Phantom has been seen by more than 160 million people in more than 40 countries and 21 languages.
Those numbers can make a show sound almost institutional - something culturally important that you're supposed to admire because everybody else has. Seeing it live explains why those numbers became possible.
The Phantom of the Opera isn't surviving because people feel obligated to preserve an old musical. It survives because when the lights go down, that overture begins and the chandelier comes alive above the audience, the damn thing still works.
The Phantom of the Opera isn't surviving because people feel obligated to preserve an old musical. It survives because when the lights go down, that overture begins and the chandelier comes alive above the audience, the damn thing still works.
On a personal level, I'm almost glad I waited this long to see it. By now I have seen enough touring productions to understand how difficult it is to make something this enormous look effortless, and that made Friday night even more impressive. I walked into the Civic Theatre with decades of expectation attached to a musical I had somehow never experienced onstage. Nearly three hours later, I walked out feeling like I had finally checked off one of the great theatrical experiences - and had somehow caught an almost perfect production in the process.
The singing was extraordinary. The orchestra was beautiful. The costumes were magnificent. The sets were breathtaking. The sound design was ingenious. Bailey and Gilbert were outstanding. And somewhere above all of it hung a 2,000-pound chandelier reminding everyone seated beneath it just how seriously Phantom takes the concept of immersive theater.
This is one of the easiest recommendations I can make. If you've never seen The Phantom of the Opera, go. If you saw it decades ago, go again.
And if you've somehow convinced yourself that a musical approaching its 40th birthday belongs primarily to another generation, spend an evening at the San Diego Civic Theatre and watch an audience lose its collective mind when that organ starts playing.
Some theater becomes dated. Some theater becomes history. And every once in a while, something becomes timeless.
The Phantom of the Opera is playing at the San Diego Civic Theatre through September 13, 2026, as part of Broadway San Diego's 2026-27 season. For tickets and additional information, visit BroadwaySD.com.
Originally published on September 5, 2026.
The singing was extraordinary. The orchestra was beautiful. The costumes were magnificent. The sets were breathtaking. The sound design was ingenious. Bailey and Gilbert were outstanding. And somewhere above all of it hung a 2,000-pound chandelier reminding everyone seated beneath it just how seriously Phantom takes the concept of immersive theater.
This is one of the easiest recommendations I can make. If you've never seen The Phantom of the Opera, go. If you saw it decades ago, go again.
And if you've somehow convinced yourself that a musical approaching its 40th birthday belongs primarily to another generation, spend an evening at the San Diego Civic Theatre and watch an audience lose its collective mind when that organ starts playing.
Some theater becomes dated. Some theater becomes history. And every once in a while, something becomes timeless.
The Phantom of the Opera is playing at the San Diego Civic Theatre through September 13, 2026, as part of Broadway San Diego's 2026-27 season. For tickets and additional information, visit BroadwaySD.com.
Originally published on September 5, 2026.
