(…in all honesty, this is one of those genre films best
experienced and appreciated…multiple times, if need be…before reading a review, especially one such as what follows, as it unavoidably…well, it doesn't necessary give away too
much, in as much as it might measurably curtail and dilute the mind-blowing experience
of watching the film itself. Hey...wouldn't want to water down that ‘what the fuck did I just see’
experience, do we?? Just saying, in advance…)…
…”…go to Poland”, they said…”…cover this strange story”,
they said…”…nothing will happen”, they said…
…uh, can you say, “…famous last words”??...
…as Rod Serling, at one time, so succinctly coined,
“…submitted for your approval”, we have…a grossly decrepit, eroded, rain
drenched European ghost town…screaming birds in a cage…screaming trees in a
blood-red forest…a malevolent creature, initiating and overseeing macabre
proceedings, with fish-eyed clarity of vision…mesmerized contorting nuns in a
hotel room…blind girls, with their eyes plucked out, wandering aimlessly…topless
nuns, wearing red cloaks, invoking petty evil…gas masks, and constricting black
lace cocoons…investigative reporters, who just happened to be knowledged in exorcism…a
harrowing and tragic legend of two sisters, one blind, the other evil…submissive,
kneeling nuns, being forced to throat crucifixes…a quick, pre-flight drink of laundry
detergent(?)…not to mention more nuns, with mechanical tentacles, streaming from
their mouths, and draped over crucifixes…
…uh, yeah right…not exactly frosty flaked, Saturday morning
kiddie cartoon fare, to be sure…or, for the sake of subtle eloquence…WTF!!!...
…as a would be writer, much like any imaginative scribe might
be, this reviewer often time finds that his dreams and the whims of nocturnal
unconsciousness are often the best and foremost resource, as far as story
ideas; in fact, without fail, there’s always pen and paper deftly handy, and placed
on this able scribe’s nightstand, so that upon waking from a dream, the details
can be quickly jotted down, whilst the dream is fresh…and the more bizarre and
far-fetched the dream, the better. In fact, being addicted to the almighty liquid speed-god
Rockstar…so much so that this energy drink junkie can genuinely go back to
sleep, soon after guzzling one of those tasty jitter-inducing beverages…well,
sleep does invariably come, but with the mind spinning a million miles a
minute, and as such…well, the most vividly outrageous and incomprehensible dreams
do result…
…curiously, the wildly intriguing aspect of the dreamscape
is the inarguable logic of the dream world’s mythos. Without reason or explanation,
anything can happen, and usually does…and at the most random moments. And no
matter how outrageous the event…no matter how bizarre the behavior of not only
the characters in the dream, but the dreamer itself…well, in the dream,
whatever happens, it’s just accepted, and makes unquestionable sense, even up
to the point where one is in the conscious throes of waking. As compelling, or
even unnerving as the dream might be, on the cusp of said waking, who doesn’t
desperately grasp at the logic of the dream, knowing full well that when the
eye and mind are open to the waking world, that logic will invariably dissolve
away to the whims of reality, as quickly as the devastatingly shattering effect
of Thanos’ merciless finger snap??…
…all these things considered, before the ‘logic’ of director
Cosmotropia de Xam’s surreal and dreamlike “Phantasmagoria” makes it’s own
abruptly sharp turn to Wacky Land (…and in watching this one, it will…oh-h-h
yes, it will), let’s get linear, shall we??...
…Dianne Cooper (Rachel Audrey), a small-time investigative
reporter for equally small-time stateside radio station KRAK, has been assigned
to fly out to the gloomy and harrowing town of Lodz, Poland, to check out some
reportedly strange and mysterious goings on, which have occurred, and continue
to occur there. Her arrival is met with little-to-no fanfare or reception, and
in fact, the village itself…save for a less-than-handful of rudely discouraging
and oddly behaving residents in the background…proves little more than a decrepit
& broken down, weathered & abandoned, almost seemingly war-torn ghost
town. The only real lively soul in this musty, broken-down rain-drenched
town…initially unbeknownst to Dianne…a darkly garbed waif of a girl (Mari K), covertly
snapping pictures of Dianne from a distance…from behind corners…from the
shadowy darkness of crusty spattered apertures and doorways…
…upon further investigation of the town, Dianne becomes more
and more suspicious of an unseen, albeit growing and underliningly sinister presence…festering,
and continuing to gnaw away at the town, and it’s scant remaining residents.
possibly as the result of an undetermined contamination, instilled either by
some natural disaster…or perhaps something wholly supernatural. These
suspicions are given even further validation, when Dianne has several direct encounters
with this strange unnamed girl…appearing sickly, and in the throes of unspeakable
delusions which suggest that there is some monstrous ‘beast’ that has
indomitably plagued, and continues to haunt the town…the site of which may have
once been a dark, cursed forest, according to reports and visions…
…the stricken girl, seemingly dedicated and…like a watcher…claiming
personal ownership and responsibly to the observations and ensuing documentation
of the town’s demise and waning population…hence, the thousands of hastily
procured photos of missing townsfolk in her possession, which Diane becomes
privy of, in the course of her investigation…stutteringly warns Diane to
abandon her investigation, and leave the area…especially the hotel where Dianne
was staying, which according to the girl, might well be the direct epicenter of
the surrounding evil presence…
…further driven to the investigation, despite the warnings,
Dianne dedicates herself to trying to help the girl, in hopes of revealing more
details on the seemingly ghastly horrors that have ensued. In the midst of this
macabre and mysterious sleuthing, Dianne becomes invariably caught up in the
mysterious girl’s delusions, which culminates in testing her own sense of logic,
reasoning and sanity…inaugurates her into strangely compelled witness and
participation in demonic possession…and applicably privies her on an old and
tragic tale of two sisters…a malevolent, evil-invoking nun, and her enslaved,
helplessly blind sibling…
…with the relentlessly dark scourges of her dreams, visions
and reality…melding, and driven onto an unavoidable collision course, will
Dianne escape the harrowing horrors and malevolence, surrounding her?? Or are
monstrous and demonic meanderings of history & legend converging, and about
to repeat themselves??...
…the premise in itself…most compelling, to be sure. However,
imagine these macabre proceedings, having been filtered through a perversely
disjointed and darkly imaginative dreamscape. Where disturbingly arcane and
interwoven visions prove as equally contagious and contorting as the cursed
plague, which has deliberately stricken the hapless little village in this
story. Where a liberal measure of stylized blasphemy, ably serves to magnify
the harrowing tragedy and already unspeakable horrors that ensue herein. And
yet, as a wholly unique and unconventional film experience, where all of
this…reasonable or not, logical or not…plays out as an inescapable dream state
norm, in the sense of that ‘norm’ being sacrilegiously repellent, yet
irresistibly captivating…
…but then, it seems this is how director Cosmotropia de Xam
rolls…daring the viewer to look away…wanting to disturb...but like that darkly alluring, seductive
and persuasive dream, that nonetheless one cannot help the overwhelming longing
to be willingly and inescapably drawn back to…well, plain and simple, you just
ain’t lookin’ away from this one…
…alluding back to the previously noted notion of things
occurring in “Phantasmagoria”, in much the same way as a dream might suggest,
in the sense that whatever does happen, no matter how direct or trivial, makes
perfect sense and logic…to that effect, the whole film itself seems to play out
like a dreamy, or should we say ‘nightmarish’ found footage entry, yet there’s
no suggestion of a camera operator accompanying the investigative reporter
Dianne, video-documenting the outrageous proceedings as Diane describes (…can’t
help but ask…is she actually doing this on her own?). But like the kind of
dream which many of us might engage, that all-seeing, albeit non-specific point
of view…focused on Dianne, as well as the events that unfold…well, that might
well be a detached facet of Dianne herself (…except of course, when the point
of view of the suggested ‘beast’ is initiated, by way of a sort of distorted
and discolored, fish-eye lens), or more than likely, such a voyeuristic point
of view is meant to suggest us, the capture viewers on this macabre
excursion…or should we say ‘dreamers’…
…but that presumed and literary ‘fantasy versus reality’
aspect of the film hardly stops there, as multiple moments like this, permeate
the storyline…the strange girl photographer, taking pictures of an unaware
Dianne, sometimes within clear sight and close proximity of her, within clear
sound of the camera’s shutter click itself…a blind search through a room, lined
with rows upon randomly strung rows of linen, and the whole scene de-vowed of
all sound, save for a strange, ear-shattering electrical arcing…the notion that
our investigative reporter Dianne, out of nowhere, picks up Bible &
rosaries, and proceeds to perform an exorcism…the interesting choice of gas
masks (…an old WWII gas mask, which when donned, looks almost nightmarishly
organic, as if it would pulsate with a life of it’s own), in a pivotal moment,
suggesting that a gas mask should be worn, to avert whatever has contaminated
the town…or even the notion that, before boarding the plane to Poland, Dianne
stops at a convenience store for something to drink, and without missing a
beat, pulls down a bottle of Pursill liquid laundry detergent, with this
seemingly awkward moment having an accompanying laugh track in the background…
…but again…within the confines of this cinematic
dreamscape…not matter how outrageous the behavior…no matter how illogically
skewed the moment…all of this and more, is meant to make perfect sense, from
the point of view of us, the viewers…or rather, the ‘dreamers’…
…although they may be considered waverly, simple and
telegraphed in the initial onset of viewing this rather bizarre and
unconventional film (…an understatement)…from the point of view of the dream
aspect that comprises “Phantasmagoria”, the performances of both Rachel Audrey,
as Dianne, and Mari K., as the stricken girl of mystery, are nonetheless genuinely
engaging, rather than off-putting (…though, you’ll still be scratching your
head, asking ‘where the hell they’re going with this’)…more so with Mari K’s
mesmerized and possessed character…wading helplessly through a harrowing
situation, where she has little control over her behavior and faculties…in
favor of something, or some thing that’s coercing her every move, despite her objections…a
puppet, for lack of a better term…once again, kind of like what one would
expect in a dream. Her words of warning and caution, stuttered and seemingly
forced, as if some invasive entity is contorting and preventing her desired
speech, just enough to make whatever she’ trying to say, seem vague and
incoherent…
…upon having noted the artfully incomprehensible parlance and
fervor of “Phantasmagoria”, it almost seems that director Cosmotropia de Xam
has inspirationally tapped into that wholly twisted and ethereal ‘other-world’,
which had often been previously resourced by the likes of early David Lynch (…of whom
the film does afford appreciative thanks), early Ken Russell…even that of the
cryptically skewed and provocative stylings of E. Elias Merhige (…remember
‘Begotten’??), and Damon Packard, of ‘Reflections of Evil’ fame. It’s the kind
of film which alluringly and underliningly beckons…for some, perhaps a demand of multiple
viewings…despite outward aversion and resistance. Heck, at the very
least, it took this blown-away reviewer multiple dizzying viewings, just to
make any sort of heads or tails of the film…to achieve some semblance of
interpreted and speculated meaning to the proceedings, as defined and presented herein by the film’s director…
…is “Phantasmagoria” a good film?? Well…that’s difficult to
say. A bad film, perhaps?? Well…equally difficult to say. Anything in-between??
Truth be known, it would be more accurate to say that “Phantasmagoria” defies
that whole spectrum...eschews such petty and generalized profiling. The film…well, it is what it is…at the
very least, a film experience unlike any other…made all the more an unnerving and uncomfortable watch, with the addition of the melodically frenetic soundtrack, composed and performed by Mater Suspiria Vision, a Euro-flavored music group personally gathered and supervised by Cosmotropia de Xam, and which specializes in a rather unique and unconventional brand of moody and atmospheric, arcane-sounding industrial rock/pop music compositions...
…considering all
that’s been comprehensively covered and examined thus far…but, sense or no sense...logical or incomprehensible...I still cannot help but
quote actor William Hurt’s character, in the 1983 dramatic character study,
“The Big Chill”, who said, “…you're so-o-o analytical!! Sometimes you just have to
let...art...flow over you.” In other words...probably not best to over-think this one...just experience it; after all, right from the start, the film suggested that it was based upon a story, called 'The Omen Complex', as written by Sue R. Lism...
...you wouldn't believe the length of diverted and unnecessary sleuthing I went through, before I finally got that clever little quip...and thusly smacked my forehead deftly with my palm, afterwards. Ah, me...sigh...tsk, tsk, tsk.....
(Limited Release, via Phantasma Disques)...you wouldn't believe the length of diverted and unnecessary sleuthing I went through, before I finally got that clever little quip...and thusly smacked my forehead deftly with my palm, afterwards. Ah, me...sigh...tsk, tsk, tsk.....
TEXT HERE
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