I finally saw Phantom of the Opera in Chicago, and you know what? I walked out humming. My scarf smelled like fog. And my heart felt full.
For an even deeper dive into the same chandelier-shaking performance, you can read my full first-person recap on Areco: Phantom of the Opera in Chicago: My Night with the Chandelier.
I went on a Tuesday night at the Cadillac Palace Theatre. The lobby is all gold and blue and a little wild. It looks like a storybook palace. If you’re curious about the architectural bones behind venues like this, Areco’s guide breaks down how these gilded palaces were designed to make music shimmer. I grabbed a cheap box of candy and found my seat—Balcony Right, Row L, Seats 8 and 9. Paid $79 each. Not bad for a big show, but not cheap either.
Getting there and getting settled
I took the Red Line to Lake, then walked. It was cold, so I ducked into the theatre early. Coat check was moving slow, so I kept my coat and used it as a cushion. The ushers were kind but firm. “No photos,” one said with that smile that means business.
From my seat, I could see most of the stage. The rail cut off a tiny corner. Not a deal breaker. Still, during the boat scene, I had to lean left to catch the candles. Next time, I’d try Dress Circle or Orchestra a few rows back, center. A friend sat there and said it felt like being inside the music.
That big chandelier moment
Let me explain. The chandelier goes up during the overture, all bright and bold. Then—boom—it drops at the end of Act I. People gasp every time. I did too. It’s loud, but safe. My seat shook a little. Fun, not scary. Okay, a tiny bit scary.
The voices that got me
Christine hit the high note in “Think of Me,” and I got chills. Real ones. Her voice sounded clear, like a bell in winter air. The Phantom had this deep, sad sound in “Music of the Night.” It wasn’t showy. It was tender. Like he was telling just me a secret. I like that.
“Masquerade” was a feast. Masks. Stairs. Silver. You know when a scene is so full your eyes don’t know where to land? That. I also loved “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again.” She stood near a dark stone and a lone lamp glowed. It felt quiet in my chest.
Effects, smoke, and the famous boat
The smoke rolled low and sweet. I’m sensitive to smells, and it was fine. Not heavy. The boat glided through the “lake,” candles rising out of the floor. It’s an old trick, but it still works. The mirror turn at the start—when a hallway becomes a lair—got a soft “whoa” from the row behind me. Same.
There were a few sharp bangs in the graveyard scene. If you’ve got a kid who jumps easy, give a heads-up. A boy near me covered his ears and then grinned. He was fine.
The not-so-great stuff
- The sound mix got muddy during “Prima Donna.” The orchestra sat on top of the words. I love the orchestra, but I want to hear the lines.
- Bathroom lines at intermission were long. Like, “you won’t make it” long if you wait. Go early.
- The bar prices were steep. I skipped the wine and grabbed water from my bag. Yes, I’m that person.
- Sightlines from far right balcony cut a sliver of action. I missed part of a doorway gag. Not huge, but I noticed.
- After the curtain, if you’re craving a cocktail that feels like it leapt from a 1920s novel, peek at my narrative crawl through hidden rooms in Speakeasy Chicago.
The crowd and the feel
The crowd was mixed—date nights, moms and daughters, a few teens dressed up, and two guys in Phantom masks who committed to the bit. If you’re still searching for the perfect plus-one for an evening of chandeliers and soaring notes, you can hop over to SPDate, a straightforward way to connect with nearby singles who are also itching to share a playbill and post-show hot chocolate.
For readers who might be swapping the Windy City for some desert warmth after the curtain falls, consider browsing the Backpage Indio directory, where a curated list of local companions and nightlife tips can help you line up a carefree evening under the California stars.
People clapped a lot, but not during quiet parts. Thank you, Chicago. Also, a couple came late and had to wait in the back until a pause. The ushers handled it smooth.
What I’d tell a friend
If you love classic musicals, you’ll be happy. If you want flashy jokes, this isn’t that. It’s romance, shadows, big notes, and candlelight. Bring a sweater. Bring tissues if you cry at solos. No shame. I did.
By the way, I’ve gone back and forth between catching shows here and on Broadway; if you’re wondering how the two cities stack up, my candid breakdown lives here.
Quick tips I learned the hard way
- Seats: Dress Circle center or Orchestra rows H–O feel sweet. Avoid far sides if you can.
- Noise: There are loud bangs. If you’re sensitive, brace during the graveyard scene.
- Timing: It runs about 2 hours and 30 minutes with one intermission. Plan trains and rides.
- Food: Eat before. The snacks inside are pricey. A Chicago dog nearby did the trick for me.
- Kids: I’d say 10+ if they can handle dark scenes and a few scares.
Final take
Was it perfect? No. The sound got messy once or twice. My view wasn’t flawless. But did I feel that swell during “All I Ask of You” on the rooftop? With the stars and the cold blue light? Yes. I felt it in my throat.
I’d see it again, but I’d pick a better seat. I’d still keep the fog on my scarf. And I’d still hum on the way to the Red Line, thinking about that mask and that song we all know by heart.