Color, 1970, 98m. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Tony Musante, Suzy Kendall
Blue Underground (US R0 NTSC) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9) / DTS/DD5.1, Medusa (Italy R2 PAL) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9) / DD5.1, VCI (US R1 NTSC) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9) / DD2.0, TFI (France R2 PAL) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9), Platinum Media Corporation (UK R2 PAL) / WS (1.85:1) (16:9)
female love interest, the film was designed to appeal to an international audience while showcasing Argento's seemingly endless reservoir of visual and storytelling abilities. For the uninitiated, the film concerns an American writer, Sam Musante), who has been staying in Rome with his girlfriend, scream queen Suzy Kendall. One night he witnesses a woman being attacked in an art gallery; the victim survives, and Sam is informed by the police that the assailant is a serial killer slashing his way through the city. Sam feels that he has witnessed something that could lead him to the killer's identity, but he just can't put his finger on it (a narrative device repeated in Argento's Deep Red and Trauma). Thus, with some mostly involuntary influence from the police, he decides to stay in Rome and do some amateur sleuthing, leading to the expected terrifying results.
Argento never had a stronger plot than this one, which anchors his trademark visual flourishes into a recognizable thematic and human fabric that would later be jettisoned for the candy-colored fantasias of Suspiria and Inferno. Ennio Morricone's groundbreaking, jittery score still manages to eke out every bit of suspense from the murder sequences, and the actors all do a fine job, partial dubbing notwithstanding. For once, the comic relief is actually pretty good, including an unforgettable encounter with an artist who keeps cats for a very unorthodox purpose. Significantly, the police procedural aspects are handled with surprising warmth and skill, never descending to the level of tedium which hobbles many other gialli from the same period. The film also firmly establishes the motifs which would continue throughout the rest of his major films, such as the deceptive nature of vision, a quirky gay supporting character who instills unease in the hero, and the distortion of characters' genders coupled with past traumas as a key to the mystery's solution.
To say the least, Bird's history 
in theatres and on video has been very tattered. After a reissue under the titles Phantom of Terror and The Gallery Murders, the film appeared on VHS in America from United/VCI and was concurrently issued by Columbia as a Japanese laserdisc. While the Japanese laserdisc looked more colorful and was uncut, it was only letterboxed at 1.85:1 and suffered from some distracting print damage. The washed out Image/VCI laserdisc of the US print featured a more accurately letterboxed credit sequence but then opened up to an unsatisfying 1.90:1 ratio. The Roan Group released Bird completely uncut (featuring a glimpse of one victim's underwear being ripped off and some extra splattery slashing during the stairwell razor murder), while VCI first secured the complete European cut for American DVD, correctly letterboxed in an anamorphically enhanced transfer. However, this version still displays source damage and fudges its matrixed surround sound mix, with bumpy music transitions and a partial loss of the line, "Right, bring in the perverts." The extra gore is spliced in (rather badly in the first pressing) from a slightly darker, blurrier print (this glitch was corrected in a second pressing), and on 4:3 televisions, the letterboxing displays that same odd two-tone effect that plagued Anchor Bay's first 2-disc set of Halloween. Extras include the Morricone score also isolated as a kind of jukebox feature with each track separately labeled (though without the alternate cues present on the 1998 Cinevox reissue), apparently yanked from the American vinyl release based on the track titles and mediocre sound quality, as well as the psychedelic US first run trailer. 
The pointless UK DVD features a more horizontally compromised transfer (similar to the Japanese laser) in Italian with English subtitles and is even more badly censored than the US prints, losing all of the underwear mayhem and most of the razor slashing with some very rough edits. Extras include the Italian trailers for Deep Red, Bird, and Cat o' Nine Tails, as well as English trailers for Demons and Demons 2, a stills gallery, and an odd overdubbed excerpt from the slapdash Dario Argento's World of Horror 3. Also available from France in an attractive anamorphic transfer, with French or Italian dialogue tracks.
Then we have the Italian DVD from Medusa, which presents an improved transfer with rich, vibrant colors and the most spacious widescreen compositions, retaining more information on the sides than any previous version. The Italian soundtrack can be played in the original mono or with a surprisingly aggressive, directional 5.1 mix, with English or Italian subtitles. However, as with the Italian Tenebrae DVD, the 5.1 version also drops some crucial sound effects, such as a buzzing telephone that Mustante now answers for no apparent reason. The mono English soundtrack is included as well (and seems to be lifted from the VCI disc but without the stereo effects); note that on some players, the English track can only be played with English or Italian subtitles activated. No extras.
By far the best option of all is the Blue Underground double-disc set, an obvious labor of love which goes all the way back to the original negative for a crystal-clear transfer that even bests the Italian release. While the Medusa disc shows some signs of digital noise reduction and pumped-up brightness to boost image clarity, the Blue Underground version is far more preferable thanks to its appealing film-like texture and incredible sense of depth. (You pervs out there should have no trouble spotting some additional, uh, female anatomical details during the first murder sequence.) The English soundtrack can be played in mono, Dolby Digital 5.1 EX, 6.1 DTS-ES, or Dolby surround; the remix offers considerable more room among the speakers for Morricone's score but is noticeably more restrained than the Italian DVD, keeping dialogue and sound effects mostly grounded in the center channel. Fortunately this also means it's truer to the original mix and doesn't drop out anything crucial. The Italian soundtrack (which doesn't come close to matching the actors' lip movements but is quite well done otherwise) can be played in 5.1 or mono, with optional yellow English subtitles. The feature also contains an entertaining audio commentary with entertaining Argento expert Alan Jones, paired up this time with writer Kim Newman; it's brisk and packed with information, including a solid survey of the Italian film scene at the time and how Argento managed to shake up the international film world his first time out. The first disc also contains the standard international trailer, a subtitled version of the Italian trailer (previously available on the UK DVD), and two 30-second TV spots. (For some reason the readily available Phantom of Terror reissue trailer has yet to appear on any version.) Note that the DVD also promises "recently discovered never-before-seen footage of explicit violence," which refers to a few extra frames at the start of the stairwell slashing.
Disc two contains four new featurettes: "Out of the Shadows" (an interview with Argento in which he talks about landing his first directorial gig), "Painting with Darkness" (a frustratlingly oblique 10-minute ramble from cinematographer Vittorio Storaro), "The Music of Murder" (8 minutes with Ennio Morricone discussing his creation of "audacious, jarring and traumatic music"), and "Eva's Talking," an 11-minute chat in English with the late Eva Renzi, complete with a marvelous shot of Argento in costume doubling as the killer. She has warm memories of Argento and, well, less than flattering ones of Musante (which is the director's opinion as well). And be sure to stick around through the credits for her comments about Klaus Kinski...
For a comparison between four of the DVD editions, click here.
Color, 1996, 113m. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Asia Argento, Thomas Kretschmann
Medusa (Italy R2 PAL) / WS (1.78:1) (16:9) / DD5.1, Troma (US R1 NTSC) / WS (1.66:1), Dutch Filmworks (Holland R2 PAL) / WS (1.66:1) (16:9), Pioneer (France R2 PAL) / WS (1.85:1) (16:9), Marquee (UK R0 PAL) / WS (1.66:1) / DD2.0
experiences a bizarre underwater vision. The psychopath, Alfredo (Thomas Kretschmann), makes contact with Anna and continues to observe her, even dragging the young woman into the middle of a horrific gunshot killing. Gradually Alfredo closes in and plays sadistic mind games which ultimately distort Anna's entire perception of reality.
A rare Argento work to actually receive a theatrical run in America, The Stendhal Syndrome is definitely not a film for Italian horror beginners. Unprepared midnight movie audiences greeted the film with giggles and confusion, a problem exacerbated by its weird pacing. The film seems to reach its violent climax halfway into the story, only to abruptly switch gears and become an entirely different narrative for the following hour. On top of that, the dialogue was spoken phonetically in English but dubbed in English by different and wholly inappropriate actors. As a result, some lines come off as unforgivably clunky ("I can let you ride my French scooter") and detract from what is otherwise a somber, brutal, and nightmarish film that begs to be considered as a serious work of art. Asia's performance improves with repeated viewings as she is subjected to a variety of physical and psychological tortures; mercifully her father relents and shows some mercy in the final sequence. Along the way he also indulges in skewed references to both his own films (Phenomena in particular) and some unexpected riffs on other horror titles like When a Stranger Calls. Of historical note, the film also marked the reteaming of Argento 
with composer Ennio Morricone, who had scored Argento's first three landmark thrillers in the early '70s.
Troma's American DVD was originally announced with a commentary track by Argento which ultimately had to be pulled due to the director's discomfort with speaking English for long periods of time. The absence is regrettable, but the film transfer is, if not exemplary, at least above par for Troma and better than the overly harsh contrasts of, say, the Japanese laserdisc. Likewise the surround audio is quite powerful, with the rear speakers constantly buzzing with activity. The dialogue still sounds canned and disjointed, but alas this flaw will apparently never be removed from the film. The usual bizarre, unrelated Troma extras round out the package, including a frankly wretched US theatrical trailer, "coming distractions" for titles like Killer Condom and Cannibal: The Musical, a video interview with Argento and Lloyd Kaufman (also included on other Troma DVDs), some comments from FX maestro Sergio Stivaletti about the mixture of latex gore and CGI manipulation, a bizarre video interview with director Ruggero Deodato, some camcorder footage of Argento at a horror convention in Sweden, and the usual "Tromabilia." The Dutch and (overmatted) French DVDs offer anamorphically enhanced transfers which are superior to Troma's but still a bit lacking, though the surround tracks are weaker. Both have optional subtitles and 
the usual Argento bio-related extras. The Dutch version also tacks on Dario Argento's World of Horror as a generous extra. The UK actually saw two different DVD editions from Marquee; the first (sporting a black and white sticker) accidentally slipped through uncut, while the second pressing (with a color sticker) complied with BBFC requirements by censoring some of the sexual violence.
Late in the game but most satisfying of the bunch is the Italian disc from Medusa, which divides its bounty onto two discs. The first contains the slightly longer Italian cut of the film (which finally makes sense of Veronica Lazar's presence in the end credits), with booming Italian 5.1 and 2.0 tracks with optional English or Italian subtitles. Colors are vibrant and often stunning, giving the film a much-needed visual gloss missing in its other presentations. The Italian track also restores much of the film's dignity and wipes out memories of that horrific English track; for those who have not yet experienced this film at all, try to go for this option first as it does feature Asia's real voice, even if it's not really in sync with her dialogue. This disc also includes the usual filmographies, all in Italian.
Disc two contains the standard English language cut of the film, anamorphic and with 5.1 audio. Though it pales in value compared to the Italian version, this is also the most pleasing version of this variant to date. The disc also includes brief video interviews with Dario and Asia Argento on the set of the film, as well as a more worthwhile half-hour featurette containing behind-the-scenes footage from various sequences throughout the film. None of the extras are English friendly, of course, but the documentary is still a worthy addition. As a special mention, the menu design is quite clever and in keeping with the nature of the film.
Color, 1984, 110m. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Jennifer Connelly, Donald Pleasence, Daria Nicolodi
Anchor Bay (US R1 NTSC) / WS (1.66:1) / DD5.1, Medusa (Italy R2 PAL) / WS (1.66:1) (16:9) / DD5.1, Divid 2000 (UK R2 PAL) / WS (1.78:1) / DD2.0, Dragon (Germany R0 PAL) / WS (1.66):1) / DD2.0
collision of images and storylines.
On the surface, Phenomena is a return to Suspiria territory, with a virginal American girl, Jennifer (Jennifer Connelly), arriving at a boarding school for girls in Switzerland. Her awkward habit of sleepwalking gets her into trouble on her first night when she wanders out of her room and witnesses the murder of a schoolmate, and on top of that, it appears she has a telepathic connection to insects. A local Scottish entomologist, John McGregor (Donald Pleasence) tells Jennifer about a string of bizarre serial killings in the area, and with the aid of Jennifer's uncanny powers, they set out to find the murderer.
In many ways this film is the perfect stepping stone between the crystal-clear, razor-edged photography of Tenebre and the baroque hyperactivity of Opera, delivering essentially two split narratives which finally converge in the amazing, excruciatingly violent final half hour. The eclectic supporting cast includes Argento regular and ex-partner Daria Nicolodi, the icy Dalila Di Lazzarro (Flesh for Frankenstein), and Patrick Bauchau (A View to a Kill) as a nosy police inspector. Add to that top notch make-up effects by Sergio Stivaletti (Demons) and an unsettling score featuring Goblin, Claudio Simonetti, and Simon Boswell, 
and the result is an undeniably unique and haunting experience. The film boasts a few strange quirks, such as a voiceover narrator inexplicably appearing 15 minutes into the film and an irritating tendency to rely on heavy metal tunes to get the viewers' blood pumping. In many ways, though, these "flaws" can be almost as endearing as the film's good qualities; its sheer daffiness is almost beyond criticism. The off-kilter, dreamlike performances have also drawn critical fire, and again it's a matter of taste.
Most unfairly, Phenomena has been termed a work of style over substance with no internal schematics to hold it up. On closer analysis, this simply isn't true. With ruthless precision, Argento dissects the notions of how families can fragment and become distorted-- Jennifer's celebrity father has abandoned her for a year's shooting on a film, her mother left without so much as a goodbye, and the bizarre genetic quirks that explain the identity of the killer(s) reflect Argento's own disintegrating domestic state at the time. Significantly, the film takes place at Passover, with Jennifer attaining a kind of virginal Zen state at the finale after her trial by blood and killing off the firstborn of her nemesis. The clash of languages and dialects (German, French, American) and the placement of the action at the "Richard Wagner School" also indicate that Argento was comparing the idealized notions of what a family should be and how easily it can crumble and destroy its children; Jennifer's early declaration, "Screw the past," quickly comes back to haunt her as the sins of the fathers (and mothers) stalk across the countryside. On a more visceral level, though, the film is also quite entertaining and boasts some of Argento's most delicious shocks (particularly the final scene). Either way, this is a film seriously in need of reevaluation.
Anchor Bay's DVD was the first out of the gate and still stands as a respectable presentation. This print is a tremendous improvement over the Columbia laserdisc from Japan, well known and beloved by gore fans for ages, which featured good clarity and color but suffered from an horrendous sound mix, with the music blasting out ten times louder than the dialogue and drowning out entire scenes (such as Bauchau's asylum visit). This problem has thankfully been corrected with a new, extremely disorienting and surprising Dolby Digital sound mix that presents all of the sound elements as they should be. However, this edition also has its share of idiosyncrasies; for example, early on when Pleasence unveils a maggot-covered severed head in a glass cage, the moment unfolds with a deafening blast of music on the Japanese disc but contains no music at all here. The commentary by Argento, Stivaletti, and Simonetti is enthusiastic and occasionally helpful but also has a tendency to become completely quiet for long stretches of the film. The feature is followed by a bizarre European trailer and, finally, the music video for the cue "Phenomena" (incorrectly identified onscreen as "Jennifer" and credited onscreen to Argento himself, though some sources actually cite Michele Soavi as the director). This odd little treat, also letterboxed, mostly features Connelly running down hallways while Simonetti jams away on his keyboard. The DVD also contains Soavi's trailer for "The Valley" and the infamous appearance by Argento on New York's The Joe Franklin Show.
The slightly longer Italian cut (111 mins.) first turned up on Japanese laserdisc as an "Integral Hard" edition, coupled with Luigi Cozzi's hit and miss Dario Argento's World of Horror 3, while DVD buyers were first offered the Dragon two-disc set from Germany, which packs most of the Anchor Bay extras with the longer cut in English (with Italian footage inserted) or, better, the full Italian dialogue track with optional English subtitles. Though not the original studio track, the Italian dialogue is much classier and easier on the ears than the English one and makes for a significantly different experience. On the other hand, the UK disc features an outstanding transfer but maddeningly only includes a mono track and some very skimpy interviews.
The Italian DVD from Medusa can't really be considered definitive as it's lacking the English track, but Argento fans will still be pleased with what is easily the best video presentation of the film. Detail and color are a significant improvement, with lustrous greens and blues flooding most of the scenes with an intensity not seen outside of mint theatrical prints. The 1.66:1 framing (16:9 enhanced) is accurately maintained, with small black bars visible on the left and right during anamorphic playback. The 5.1 audio is one of Medusa's better efforts, with some nice separation effects and generally solid use of ambient sound drifting among the speakers. The disc includes optional English subtitles which improve greatly on the typo-riddled subs from the Dragon disc; this is also the "integral" version containing those extra bits of footage (Jennifer's extended bus ride, the longer telephone fight with Nicolodi) but some fleeting, minor snippets of Italian dialogue (such as a student asking Sophie to get off the phone) are inexplicably lacking subtitles. The only bonus is the Italian theatrical trailer.
Color, 1982, 101m. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Anthony Franciosa, Daria Nicolodi
Anchor Bay (US R1 NTSC), Sazuma (Austria R0 NTSC), Nouveaux (UK R2 PAL), TFI (France R2 PAL) / WS (1.85:1) / DD5.1
Color, 1998, 100m. / Directed by Dario Argento / Starring Starring Julian Sands, Asia Argento, Andrea di Stefano, Nadia Rinaldi
A-Pix (US R1 NTSC), Medusa (Italy R2 PAL), TFI (France R2 PAL) / WS (1.85:1) (16:9) / DD5.1
Like most of Argento's films, Phantom is first and foremost a feast for the eyes. Packed with luscious scenery and ominous caverns, the film is primarily a work of scenic stylization, though the bland cinematography by Ronnie Taylor (Tommy and Argento's Opera) avoids the expected Argento camera gymnastics. Ennio Morricone provides an elegant, subdued score, and Sergio Stivaletti's gore effects by and large get the job done, including a nasty stalagmite impaling and a Fulciesque tongue-ripping. In many respects Phantom marks a progression of ideas Argento introduced with The Stendhal Syndrome; most obviously, his murderer is unmasked right from the beginning and is far more sexualized than the usual black-gloved serial killer. Once again he utilizes odd bursts of CGI, represented here by a floating Christine in the clouds(?) and the bizarre image of naked childish bodies transfixed in a giant rat trap. Unlike Stendhal, this film benefits greatly from the presence of the actors' original voices, making it far more accessible and easy on the ears. Roman Polanski's favourite screenwriter, Gérard Brach, collaborated with Argento on the screenplay, imbuing it with the same delirious, overripe exchanges which characterized Bitter Moon. The unusual locales are generally interesting and well handled, making this a more successful and interesting foray into Parisian period horror than Argento's last effort, the unbearable Wax Mask (which he mercifully only produced).
The trouble with Phantom lies mostly with its context in the entire Argento canon. While Argento has often cited the Claude Rains version as one of his earliest and most influential movie memories, he already covered most of this ground quite thoroughly in the excellent 1989 film Opera, essentially a modern day updating of the Leroux story. From an artistic standpoint, there was really no reason for this film to be made in the first place. However, a poll with the Italian moviegoing public decreed that they wanted him to do a straight version of the familiar story, and he complied. In essence, the film is a commercial enterprise at heart rather than the anguished, stylish exorcism of internal demons Argento followers have come to expect. Saddled with such familiar material, he apparently decided to have fun and injected the film with far more humour than one expects. The Leroux novel is indeed surprisingly witty, but horror fans are understandably confused by this approach. With its emphasis of bizarre gimmickry (the ratcatching machine), grotesque faces, and weird non sequitor humor, Phantom more often resembles a Jeunet and Caro film, sort of a gory City of Lost Children. The film abounds with bizarre, potentially laughable moments: an unexpected visit by Raoul to an Eastern bathhouse (complete with unpleasant frontal nudity), in which he envisions Christine as a wine-dribbling whore; the phantom obtaining sexual communion with the rats whom he regards as his family; and the graphic chandelier dropping, a scene reminiscent of the Opera raven attack. The actors themselves are largely ineffectual, with Sands in his moping Boxing Helena mode and lovely Asia serving more as window dressing through most of the running time. (Also, look for Coralina Cataldi Tassoni, the ill-fated wardrobe mistress from Opera, reprising her role here.) Acting quibbles aside, the romantic and sexualized elements provide some points of interest, with Christine experiencing a similar personality dualism as Stendhal's Anna, represented here by the temptations of two very different men ("I may have fallen in love with them both"). Once again Argento provides a wistful, sad, but ultimately merciful coda for his daughter, complete with her literally running towards the light. Ultimately, this is the most positive and heartfelt rendition of the tale since Terence Fisher's underrated Hammer version back in 1962.
A-Pix's DVD release of Phantom is a moderately successful presentation. Attractively letterboxed at 1.85:1 and anamorphically enhanced, the image quality is velvety and looks colorful and finely detailed throughout. Nothing notable appears to be missing from this "unrated director's cut," though it has reportedly been time-compressed down from 103 minutes with few detrimental effects on the film. Also, some of the gore footage was apparently reinstated after being trimmed for an R rating, so there's an odd jump cut now and then where it was digitally spliced back into the master. The 5.1 sound mix suffers somewhat from some artificial post-production canned sound and ambient effects (typical of recent Italian productions for some reason) but at least isn't a wretched padded-down mono mix like Trauma; unfortunately the music of the 5.1 track slips out of synch several times, while the 2.0 track remains consistent. The disc includes both the original theatrical trailer and the far less impressive video preview, as well as a "making of" featurette consisting of camcorder footage during the shooting of several sequences such as the finale. A brief Julian Sands interview and a reprint of the first Fangoria article on the film round out the package. The Italian DVD features a darker, even richer transfer, with both the English track and the more elegant Italian track with optional English or Italian subtitles, while also porting over most of the extras from the US disc as well. Also, the jump cuts are thankfully absent. On the other hand, the censored French disc omits the bathhouse footage and, despite an attractive transfer, is best avoided.
More Argento reviews can be found here.
