The deal with the devil is one of our oldest human stories. Most references to this idea will lead you to the story of Faust(us). There are many versions of this tale, and researching whether it is based on any kind of stretched reality will lead us down a rabbit hole I have neither the willingness nor the time to go diving headlong into. But it will, of course, also eventually get you to Christopher Marlowe’s play “The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus” (1604; though likely actually written in 1592), which seems to be the actual basis for anything you see referenced as “Faustian.” I have memories of reading this in my collegiate studies and was one of the first moments of realization that movie plots were often cribbed from classical literature that the not-yet-educated would term as “barely English.” Briefly, the story of Faust is that of a man that becomes bored of earthly learning and then summons a devil, Mephistophilis, who offers him knowledge of magic. They sign a contract in blood (obviously) and, after 24 years, as agreed, the devils come and drag him away. Unsurprisingly, all kinds of art forms have run with this idea. Who wouldn’t want knowledge, power, and fame? But is the cost worth it in the long run?
Obviously, there are many examples of films that gained some level of inspiration from the sad tale of Doctor Faustus. One of them, Phantom of the Paradise, is commemorating 50 years in 2024, this November 1. In our own celebration, I have decided to look at this and two other devil’s bargains, specifically The Witch and Constantine. Just seeing those titles shows us that genre is no impediment to this story’s lessons. Whether the film be a rock musical, a period piece, or a comic book fantasy, the root of them all hold true to this ill-conceived agreement. There are, of course, three pieces to these stories; The Devil, The Mortal, and The Deal.
The Devil Is in the Details
Swan: What do I have to do?
The Devil: [holding a contract] It’s all here. Read it carefully, and then sign at the bottom in blood.
Swan: Blood? My blood?
The Devil: Messy, I know. But it’s the only way I can bind you. Tradition. What do you have to lose?
–Phantom of the Paradise (1974)
In Phantom of the Paradise, the script, from famed director Brian De Palma, as well as, Louisa Rose, not only recreates Faust, but also the “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” in which a character’s aging is transferred to his portrait while he stays forever young. This, along with it being a full-on musical, akin to The Phantom of the Opera, is a tall order that has no business working as well as it does. In this film, the work of the devil is passed down. At the start, we are introduced to our lead characters, Winslow (William Finley) and Swan (Paul Williams). WInslow is a genius who wants his important works of musical art, specifically a cantata, produced. Swan, as luck would have it, is a producer, and the best in the world, at that. Unfortunately, he is also devoid of scruples. Constantly bathed in either shadow or ominous red lighting, De Palma clearly wants his audience to associate him with evil, both human and otherworldly. He first steals his music the old-fashioned way, which leads to Winslow storming his offices and ending up maimed by a record pressing machine. Later on down the line, Swan offers him a deal. He will produce his cantata, with his muse, Phoenix (Jessica Harper), singing the vocals. This contract is willfully opaque and confusing and is, you guessed it, signed in blood. Although this itself seems devilish in nature, we find later that this is only the first layer. Swan himself, who was suicidal due to a fear of aging, signed a contract with the actual devil years prior. This dual devil is an incredibly interesting and smart screenplay decision as it forces us to try to empathize with an antagonist, even if for just a moment. We all have dreams and desires, after all.
The Witch, from director Robert Eggers, takes a more direct, but slow path to the devil. It is essentially a story that gives insight into the evils of extreme religiosity, misogyny, and isolation. The Witch follows the story of a family that has been cast out for being too strict in their religion. The father, William (Ralph Ineson) brings his wife, Katherine (Kate Dickie), and his children—including his oldest daughter Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy)—out to abandoned land to make their way in the world on a simple farm. After a series of horrific events (rumors of a witch, unfarmable land, likely death of an infant, a possible possession), the family not only starts to believe accusations of Thomasin consorting with the devil but also turn to violence, both emotional and physical. This easily could have been a film in which there is no actual devil, and the evil is the family’s treatment of their daughter. And it is, until the final sequences. Thomasin, beaten down, calls for the devil, and he appears in two forms. First, as an evil goat named Black Phillip, and secondly as a well-dressed man, also in black. Using these two forms, Eggers expertly shows the fear and the allure of the devil with minimal dialogue
Similarly, the devil does not appear until nearly the end of the film in our third version of the Faustian deal, Constantine. This film is odd, in many ways. Critically panned upon release, it has somehow found a foothold in the cult movie world. Some of this is likely due to Keanu Reeves being reclaimed in a post The Matrix and John Wick world. Put simply, John Constantine (Reeves) is an exorcist who has the ability to see half-angels and half-demons when they come to visit the human world. This, when he was younger, led to a suicide attempt which, in turn, led him to understand that he will be punished in hell at the end of his life. Oh, he also has lung cancer due to his constant smoking of cigarettes. Ok, it’s not so simple, but it is as close as we can get. In the climactic scene, John makes a deal with the actual devil, Lucifer (Peter Stormare). This version of the ultimate evil is dirty, messy, and palpably disgusting. Gone is the tempting, beautiful version of Lucifer. Here is the trickster and the liar.
What Fools These Mortals Be
Thomasin: I am that very witch. When I sleep my spirit slips away from my body and dances naked with The Devil. That’s how I signed his book.
–The Witch (2015)
The Witch has a particularly negative view of humanity, and especially of how we treat women, regardless of our own gender. Thomasin is caught in a terrifying place, especially given the time. She is on the cusp of womanhood, and with nowhere to act on it, or to grow into it. The only model she has is her own mother, Katherine, who seems to outright despise her. She blames her for the disappearance of her baby brother, the illness of another male sibling, the behavior of yet two other younger siblings, and even issues as small as a missing cup. All blame goes to Thomasin, regardless of the lack of proof. As one would expect, Thomasin has moments where she essentially admits to wrongdoing, knowing that she is trapped anyway. You can only be accused of being a witch so many times before you scream back that yes, you are the witch of the wood. But as life continues to spiral, there is a genuine fear in Taylor-Joy’s performance that moves the audience solidly into her corner. So much so that even when she is making an actual deal with the literal devil, we understand. Where is there for her to turn? Her family blamed her everything, to the point that they were ready to sell her to the highest bidder. Maybe the devil isn’t so bad.
Constantine, on the other hand, has some work to do to get us to root for him. He is gruff, difficult, smokes like a chimney, and sees little hope for the future. This changes slightly when he meets Angela Dodson (Rachel Weisz), who is searching for answers after her devoutly religious twin sister dies of an apparent suicide. Slowly, over the course of the film, John has a series of epiphanies. His motivations prior were mostly selfish. If he does enough good, he hopes that he can essentially buy his way into heaven. Through this relationship, and through changing relationships with other humans, he sees the error of this thinking. He never gives this change words, but you can certainly see it in his actions, especially towards the archangel Gabriel (a perfect Tilda Swinton), who intends to unleash hell on earth because they are sick and tired of God’s caretaking and spoiling of humanity. By the end, John makes a choice, which leads to a deal with both God and Lucifer, but we will get to that a little bit later.
Finally, in Phantom of the Paradise, poor, sweet Winslow is the very definition of a romantic. He is an artist who never wants his precious cantata split apart, even if it would mean fame and financial success. Although performed comedically, his accidental scarring is still difficult to watch, as he is a man who has done nothing wrong, besides trust the wrong people. It is only after he loses everything—his identity, his voice, any chance at all with Phoenix—that he is willing to sign just about anything in front of him. Winslow, shockingly, gets a happy ending, of sorts. Of course, he goes through a figurative hell and dies, but, just before his demise, he has his moment with Phoenix. But for a Faustian bargain, it honestly could have been a lot worse. The same cannot be said for Swan, who made the original deal with the actual devil. He, who continually tries to flout the deal and find ways around it, receives his just deserts. It is truly poetic that his end comes at the hands of the man who he brutally used for the entire runtime.
Let’s Make a Deal
Gabriel: If sweet, sweet God loves you so, then I will make you worthy of His love. But it’s only in the face of horror that you truly find your nobler selves—and you can be so noble. So … I will bring you pain. I will bring you horror.
Gabriel: So that you may rise above it. So that those of you who will survive this reign of hell on earth will be worthy of God’s love.
John Constantine: Gabriel…you’re insane.
Gabriel: [smiles] The road to salvation begins tonight. Right now.
–Constantine (2005)
John Constantine’s second deal (the first being suicide means going to Hell) is the turning point for the character. As Angela is about to be killed brutally by Gabriel, he makes a split second decision. Knowing that Lucifer will collect him when he dies, as punishment, he opens his own veins. This is perhaps the most impressive moment in the film visually as time slows down, nearly to a stop, allowing for that grimy entrance of Lucifer. Constantine agrees to help Lucifer stop Mammon (his son, set on usurping his power), and, in turn, is offered a favor from Lucifer. Had any of this happened prior to the events of the film, the choice would have been simple. Remove the mark on his soul and allow him to spend eternity in Heaven. But instead, John commits perhaps his first truly selfless act. He asks for Isabel, the twin sister of Angela, to be forgiven for her suicide and be sent to Heaven, instead. After this, John is rewarded and ripped from Lucifer’s clutches just in time. John, after a tug-of-war between light and dark, will now have an opportunity to prove his worth in one direction or the other, a new bargain of sorts.
The Witch offers the simplest, and most direct deal. After Thomasin calls to him through Black Phillip, the devil appears and eventually asks her one important question. “Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?” With this one line of dialogue, the movie inherently changes. It turns from a sad story of misogyny to a dark, but ultimately happy ending. Thomasin turns from repression towards the world of pleasure, the world of witches. Yes, her name is now in the Devil’s book, but is that any worse than obeying the word of the good book, especially when hammered into her through guilt, hate, and violence? For the first time in weeks, Thomasin has a vision of happiness, a chance. It is not a coincidence that the movie does not end with the bargain, but with her joining other witches in the forest. There was no place for her in the mortal world, on the farm, or with her family. But there is a place here. She is free.
The bargain in Phantom of the Paradise is, in many ways, the opposite of simple. It is purposefully complex. This serves two functions in the film. De Palma and Rose are first, making a play on the standard Faustian deal. Unlike Faustus, Winslow is not enabled to be aware of the terms of the deal. Additionally, it is a pretty clear shot across the bow at the world of entertainment. Coming from established artists, Swan clearly represents the worst of producers and agents, screaming at their clients to not worry and just sign the contract. It is worth noting that Swan, as the producer, is the only one of the two who actually knows the details of the bargain. He will happily handwave away the punishment everyone else might receive, but nothing is a secret from him. This makes his end, combining the body horrors of Dorian Grey and the existential terror of Faustus, all the more satisfying. Even as poor Winslow expires, there is a sense of wrongs being righted. His cantata has been performed (kind of), he has a reunion with Phoenix, and the great evil has been purged from the world of music and the world in general.
The deal with the devil will probably never fail to mesmerize humans in the world of entertainment. The original is at least 800 years old, certainly older than the art form of cinema. And yet, we continue to return. With the 50-year anniversary of Phantom of the Paradise, we can clearly see why. We know that making this deal with the face of evil will always go wrong. But what if we could be the ones to outsmart them? Maybe we can get all of the advantages and avoid the demons coming to collect their due. It certainly didn’t work for Swan, but Winslow was close. If we can stay pure of heart, like John Constantine, maybe there is just enough of a chance. Or maybe we should just give in to the evil side of things and enjoy a delicious life, like Thomasin. Regardless, the deal with the devil is always tempting, always lurking. What would make it worth it for you?
Phantom of the Paradise was released by 20th Century Fox on November 1, 1974. It is currently available to rent or buy on Prime Video.
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