The air in the Swiss Alps is supposed to be clean, pure. But in Dario Argento’s world, even the most pristine settings hide a festering darkness. Phenomena (1985) plunges us into this unsettling landscape, not with a whisper, but with the buzzing drone of a million insects – a sound that somehow felt both repulsive and hypnotic echoing from the speakers of a chunky CRT TV back in the day. It’s a film that reportedly sprang from a bizarre news item Argento read about insects being used to solve crimes, a kernel of an idea that spirals into one of his most unique, dreamlike, and frankly, weirdest cinematic nightmares.
### Sleepwalking into Terror
We follow Jennifer Corvino (Jennifer Connelly, in one of her earliest and most memorable roles), the young daughter of a famous American actor, shipped off to an exclusive Swiss boarding school. Plagued by unsettling sleepwalking episodes and possessing a burgeoning, inexplicable telepathic connection with insects, Jennifer arrives just as a vicious serial killer begins terrorizing the area. Argento, never one for subtlety, uses the stunning yet isolating Swiss scenery to maximum effect. The crisp mountain air feels heavy with menace, the lush forests seem ready to swallow victims whole, and the prim boarding school becomes a cage of adolescent cruelty and lurking danger. Remember how those European locations felt so alien and atmospheric on VHS, adding another layer of distance and dread? Phenomena nails that feeling. Connelly, barely 14 during filming, carries a remarkable weight here. Her ethereal beauty contrasts sharply with the gruesome events unfolding, and she projects a vulnerability mixed with an uncanny strength, making her connection to the insect world feel strangely plausible within the film’s fevered logic.
### Flies, Forensics, and Friendships
Jennifer finds an unlikely ally in Professor John McGregor (Donald Pleasence, bringing his signature eccentric intensity, honed in films like Halloween). McGregor, a brilliant entomologist confined to a wheelchair, studies the flesh-eating insects drawn to decaying remains, hoping to use them to pinpoint the killer's location. His scenes with Jennifer, surrounded by buzzing flies and scientific equipment, are highlights. Pleasence grounds the film's more fantastical elements, acting as both mentor and guide through the increasingly bizarre investigation. His trusty chimpanzee assistant, Inga, adds another layer of... well, let's call it Argento-esque peculiarity. The practical effects surrounding the insects are genuinely impressive for the era. While today's CGI could render billions of bugs, the sheer physicality of the swarms in Phenomena – reportedly involving tens of thousands of real insects meticulously wrangled on set – lends a tactile grossness that lingers. One particular scene involving a maggot-filled pit remains a stomach-churning benchmark in 80s horror. Did that sequence make anyone else instinctively check their own surroundings back then?
### Argento Unleashed
This isn't Argento operating with the tight, almost clinical precision of his earlier Giallo masterpieces like Deep Red (1975). Phenomena feels looser, more driven by dream logic and visceral sensation than coherent plotting. The narrative takes wild swings, characters appear and disappear, and motivations can be murky. Yet, it’s undeniably his film. The gliding Steadicam shots, the sudden bursts of graphic violence often set to incongruously beautiful or driving rock music (Goblin, Simon Boswell, and even Iron Maiden contribute to the legendary soundtrack), the fetishistic focus on bizarre details – it’s all pure Argento. There’s a palpable sense of a filmmaker letting his imagination run wild, perhaps too wild for some. The film famously exists in multiple cuts, with the heavily truncated US version titled Creepers slicing away much of the atmosphere and character development, leaving mostly the shocks. Seeking out the full, uncut Italian version is essential to appreciating Argento's intended, sprawling vision.
### That Ending...
Spoiler Alert! (Though if you're reading VHS Heaven, you likely know...) The climax of Phenomena is something else entirely. It throws everything at the screen – a deformed antagonist, a desperate chase, shocking betrayals, and yes, a chimpanzee wielding a straight razor. It's ludicrous, terrifying, and strangely unforgettable. Argento defended the chimp's intervention, claiming it was based on stories of primates defending their masters, but it remains one of the most debated and bizarre moments in his filmography. It perfectly encapsulates the film's tightrope walk between genuine atmospheric horror and almost B-movie absurdity.
### Legacy of the Locusts
Phenomena might not be Dario Argento's most coherent film, nor his most critically acclaimed. Its plot meanders, its tone veers wildly, and some elements are just plain baffling. Yet, its power lies in its potent atmosphere, Jennifer Connelly's haunting performance, Donald Pleasence's reliable presence, the groundbreaking insect effects, and its sheer, unadulterated strangeness. It feels like a waking nightmare captured on celluloid, full of beautiful decay and buzzing dread. It taps into primal fears – insects, isolation, the loss of control – while wrapping them in Argento's unique visual poetry. Finding this tape on a rental shelf, often with that striking cover art, felt like unearthing forbidden knowledge.
Rating: 7.5/10
Justification: Phenomena earns a strong score for its unforgettable atmosphere, striking visuals, memorable performances from Connelly and Pleasence, and audacious practical effects. Its unique premise and Argento's distinctive style make it a standout cult classic. Points are deducted for the often nonsensical plot, uneven pacing, and a climax that pushes weirdness to the breaking point, potentially alienating some viewers. However, its strengths far outweigh its eccentricities for fans of Italian horror and bizarre cinema.
Final Thought: It's a film that crawls under your skin, much like its insectoid stars, leaving behind a lingering sense of dreamlike unease – a quintessential slice of bizarre 80s horror that still buzzes in the memory long after the credits roll.