Phenomena
Reviewed by Edward Larsen Terkelsen

Italy, R, 110 m/82 m (USA), 1985
Directed by Dario Argento. Stars Jennifer Connelly, Daria Nicolodi, Dalila Di Lazzaro, et al.

In Dario Argento’s Phenomena, some bedlamite is running around Switzerland and decapitating schoolgirls. One victim’s pretty little head turns up in a stream and is promptly brought by the authorities to professor John McGregor (Donald Pleasance), a forensic entomologist, for analysis. By scrutinizing the size of the larvae that are congregating in the eye sockets of the victim’s skull, he is able to approximate the time of death. (Since this an Argento flick, we’re naturally treated to fetishistic close-ups of the creepy crawlies dining on pulpy, rancid flesh.) Bound to a wheelchair, the professor keeps a chimpanzee around to go and get surgical instruments, fix coffee, and Christ knows what all. The chimp, Inga (well played by Tanga), is also the professor’s bodyguard, so if you mess with her master, Inga will pull a knife (or scalpel) and cut off a piece of your ear. Though a chimpanzee hardly needs a weapon to inflict a grievous injury on one of its tennis-playing descendants; its teeth and claws will more than do. Permit me to cite just a couple of the many bloody instances on record: At a California animal sanctuary in March of 2005, a man had his nose chomped off and his genitals torn apart by two chimpanzees that were jonesing for some of the cake that he had brought for another chimp’s 39th birthday doings; and in February ’09, Travis, a chimpanzee television star, went bonkers after sipping some Xanax-laced tea and viciously removed the hands and face of his owner’s companion. (And Jim Croce thought ol’ King Kong was bad!)

Though it was greeted by the sound of chirping crickets when it was distributed to theatres back in 1985, Phenomena has since found a small following on home video, mostly because it features one of Jennifer Connelly’s earliest performances. She plays Jennifer Corvino, a beautiful but somewhat reserved lass who has been shuttled off to Switzerland by her Hollywood big wheel dad to attend the Richard Wagner School for Girls (which I gather is a slightly more esteemed institute of learning than Adolf Hitler High). Jennifer has a profound love for insects, and they love her. She’s never been bitten by a skeeter or stung by a bee, and if you dare try to swat either, she’ll put in a call to the Mothman and demand that he disturb your sleep for a fortnight. (Actually, she’ll just get all up in your grill and read you the riot act.) Incredibly, Jennifer can communicate telepathically with bugs and have them do her bidding. This comes in handy when she wants to put her sneering classmates in their place or stub out the scorn in the bible-thumping headmistress’s eyes. (In a nod to Carrie, Jennifer summons a gazillion flies to encircle the schoolhouse and freak everyone out.) Jennifer also has a tendency to sleepwalk, though it’s more like a mystical force is sending for her. One night during a heavy-eyed stroll through the backwoods, Jennifer is discovered by Inga and taken to the professor. When they learn they share a fascination with insects, Jennifer and the professor become fast friends. And soon Jennifer’s weird talents are being used to help the professor figure out the identity of the schoolgirl slayer.

As Jennifer, Miss Connelly is… eh. To be fair, she was only fourteen at this point in her career and hadn’t yet cultivated the chops to do right by such a complex character. (Her gawky performance still led to a plum part as David Bowie’s object of affection in Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.) The rest of the cast, while skilled, also fails to make much of an impression. But let’s face it: the real star of Phenomena is Argento. Yes, boils and ghouls, that iconoclastic kook who took the long slighted horror genre and elevated it to an art form. Well, that’s what all of his fans say, anyway. Still, the folks who have never seen an Argento film might not want to start with Phenomena or they’ll surely be left wondering what all the hubbub’s about. It’s a rather clumsy effort, and not a very scary one at that. (Some will argue that it’s a contemporary fairy tale.) Worse, the ADR is atrocious; it’s all front and center and lacks any depth. But what really makes this pile of whimsical mush taxing to sit through is its heavy metal soundtrack. As if Goblin’s incongruent “score” wasn’t enough, Argento cranks up a shit-load of infernal caterwauling by the likes of Iron Maiden and, God help us all, Motörhead.  

There are a few different versions of this thing floating around: the original full-length Italian release; a gutted, panned-and-scanned American edition that goes by the name of Creepers (and as it’s now in the public domain, watch out for bad copies); and the ever-so-slightly trimmed 2008 director’s cut from Anchor Bay. If you really need to add this bit of madness to your DVD collection, I suggest you go with that last one. It has some nice extras. 

July 27, 2009 

© Copyright 2009 by Edward Larsen Terkelsen. All rights reserved.