An ambitious spectacle adapted from Gaston Leroux’s story, a weird and morbid tale, it is nevertheless an intensely entertaining picture. Lon Chaney seems to delight in such horrible roles as the Hunch back of Notre Dame and the Phantom. Certainly, there is no one on the screen who can play such roles so convincingly. There is not a ray of sunlight, a spark of tender passion, or a real vivid comedy relief in the whole production, and yet, the atmosphere of mystery, the tense coil of suspense the morbid quality of the story, the lavishness of the whole production is such that we pronounce it excellent screen entertainment. In his production, Rupert Julian has carefully avoided extremeness in his depiction of horror, and for this he deserves great credit. (Photoplay, May 1925)“It is spook drama at its wildest and weirdest, and it is beautifully done. Rupert Julian’s direction of The Phantom of the Operais excellent; he has emphasised his pictures rather than his drama, and has thus achieved an optical illusion which could have never been gained by any direct appeal to the intelligence: The acting, though undistinguished is appropriate to the generaI tubthumper quality of the story. In other words, it is of a variety that is usually known as “ham.”(Life, September 1925)“Universal has turned out another horror. This newest of U specials is probably the greatest inducement to nightmare that has yet been screened. If the picture equals in dollars the sleepless hours it will cause children who view it,U has a money film on his hands. Following the Hunchbackthing it becomes a moot question whether or not Chaney’s name in connection with a picture is going to keep children away from the theatre. Any number of Unholy Threescannot erase the impression ofthese two make-ups. While adults may throw off the hideous film characterisations it leaves an aftermath that can’t be too favorable for Chaney as a general draw. Assuredly it is ruinous to any juvenile appeal. There is actually no work for the cast inasmuch as the story carries the picture, neither is there any comedy to relieve. There’s plenty of melodramatic “hoke,”while the climax is ridiculous. Following a 100 minutes of gruesomeness, terminating with a mob beating out the brains of the Phantom on a wharf is shown the girl and her officer in the proverbial clinch preceeded by a subtitle explaining its the honeymoon. That addition can go right out, for its the face of the previously established morale and the picture can stand cutting. It’s impossible to believe there are a majority of picture goers who prefer this revolting sort of a tale on screen. It is better for an exhibitor to pass up this film or 100 like it to have one patron pass up his theatre through it. (Variety, September 9, 1925)