Poster for Phantom of the Paradise

Phantom of the Paradise

Brian De Palma • 1974 • USA • 91 min

Monday Jun 8 @ 6:00pm
Monday Jun 8 @ 8:30pm

Thoughts from the committee


Last year we had The Phantom of the Opera, but this year, we jump forward 50 years from 1925 to glam rock, Faustian bargains, Brian De Palma, phantoms in the wings of the music hall, Beach Boys parody songs… Phantom of the Paradise is hard to explain, but trust us: it’s a riot and will be one of the most fun screenings of 2026. 

Winslow (William Finley), a gifted songwriter, is chewed up by the music industry and reborn as a masked phantom, haunting a lurid new concert hall run by the mysterious producer, Swan (Paul Williams). In particular, Winslow wants his songs to be performed by the hot new star, Phoenix (Suspiria’s Jessica Harper in her debut role). From there, all bets are off: glam-rock numbers, split screens, camp horror, and satire so sharp it still stings fifty years later. Brian De Palma directs like he’s just been let loose in a costume warehouse, while Paul Williams supplies songs that veer from 50s bubblegum pop to operatic lament.

A flop on release, the film slowly found its audience and grew into a cult obsession – particularly in places far from Hollywood’s orbit. A sort of slow burn Rocky Horror, half rock opera, half revenge fantasy, Phantom of the Paradise is a delirious takedown of fame, art, and the price of selling your soul.

“There is enough camp for a boyscout jamboree in Phantom of the Paradise, a gorgeously funny movie that successfully manages to combine a satire of the disparate worlds of rock music and horror films.” – Desmond Ryan, The Philadelphia Inquirer

Featured member reviews


In which Brian De Palma theatrically savages the music industry with the assistance of a satanic record producer, some killer music and an iconic one-eyed, tin-headed budgie monster. Yikes!

Beef! Beef! Beef! Beef!

Fabulous and bonkers - entertaining escapism, perfect film to enjoy in these dark times.

I love Jessica Harper so much, I too would consider murdering someone on stage with a lightning bolt to hear her sing melancholy love songs I had written for her while imprisoned and drugged by the devil.

Did the moviegoing public of 1974 have no taste? No whimsy? No love of camp excess? No appreciation for a soundtrack of absolute bangers? This is one of the few movies I've ever wished was just a little bit longer, if only so it could pack in one more musical number before the end.