The Philadelphia Experiment: Time Travel Romance...and Urban Legend

Nancy Allen and Michael Paré.

There are better time travel romances, such as Somewhere in Time, Time After Time, and I'll Never Forget You. And yet, I know a surprising number of people who view The Philadelphia Experiment with affection. That's all the more amazing considering that this modest 1984 film didn't make a dent at the box office and was released to video less than three months after its theatrical release. Maybe there's a Paré pattern 
here--Eddie and the Cruisers, another film starring Michael Paré, followed a similar trajectory after audiences discovered it on pay cable.

Michael Paré...after Davy learns to drive
without a stick shift.

The Philadelphia Experiment opens in 1943 with the Navy testing a new device that will render the USS Eldridge invisible to radar. However, the experiment goes terribly wrong and the ship's crew begins to glow in agony. Two sailors, Davy (Paré) and Jimmy (Bobby Di Cicco), jump ship and travel through a vortex to the Nevada desert in 1984--though they don't realize they've traveled through time. After a misunderstanding at a diner, they try to steal a car. Unfortunately, Davy doesn't know how to drive a car with automatic transmission, so he kidnaps its driver, Allison (Nancy Allen).

Jimmy glows at the hospital.

By the time Davy and Jimmy realize what has happened, they are captured by the police. Jimmy, whose hand has started glowing, is taken to a hospital--where he disappears. Davy escapes again and Allison, who has fallen for the time traveler, goes with him. Meanwhile, a huge electrical cloud begins to form over the area where Davy and Jimmy appeared. Two experiments, apparently conducted simultaneously in parallel times, have opened up a "hole" that could destroy the world.

The plot of The Philadelphia Experiment doesn't hold up well under close scrutiny. Davy goes to great lengths to elude the military authorities that he later wants to confront about his predicament. He could have saved a lot of time by turning himself in! Earlier, during a high-speed pursuit, a military vehicle flips over and bursts into flames. We don't see anyone escaping from the wreckage, so we can only assume the jeep's occupants died. Davy walks up to the burning vehicle and I assumed he was going to pull the bodies free from the fire. Instead, he recovers some secret documents--showing no remorse for the two dead men. A bit cold, I think.

The always likable Nancy Allen.

Of course, the heart of The Philadelphia Experiment is its romance and, to their credit, Paré and Allen pull that part off nicely. His brooding good looks and her girl-next-door charm make for a winning combination and the leads have an easy-going chemistry. Parts of The Philadelphia Experiment remind me of the same year's superior Starman. In both films, women trek cross-country with fish-out-of-water guys and elude government officials. Both films even feature incidents that take place at a country diner. Interestingly, John Carpenter directed Starman and executive produced The Philadelphia Experiment (after turning down a chance to direct it).

A prologue to The Philadelphia Experiment suggests there really were mysterious Naval experiments in Philadelphia in 1943. In some accounts, the USS Eldridge was rendered invisible and teleported to Norfolk, Virginia. There are a surprising number of variations to this urban legend, so many in fact that the U.S. Navy addressed the Philadelphia Experiment (aka Project Rainbow) on a naval history and heritage site at one time. 

As for the movie version of The Philadelphia Experiment, its slow-building popularity was enough to warrant Philadelphia Experiment II, a belated 1993 sequel. It featured none of the original cast, although Paré's character returned. In 2012, the SyFy Channel televised a pseudo-sequel, The Philadelphia Experiment, which featured Paré in a supporting role as another character.

Brian De Palma Challenges Our Perception in “Blow Out”

Jack Terry (John Travolta) is a sound man, working post-production on a low-budget slasher film called Coed Frenzy. The director, unhappy with a victim’s scream, wants an entirely new library of sounds. That night, Jack, armed with a shotgun mic and tape recorder, is outside recording when he hears squealing tires and watches a car crash into a creek. He jumps into the water and, once seeing that the driver is dead, pulls a female passenger to safety. After Jack is interrogated by a detective at a local hospital, he learns that the driver was the governor, who had presidential aspirations. More significantly, Jack is told to forget that the lady, Sally (Nancy Allen), was even in the car.

Though he is told that the car had a blow out, Jack reviews his recording and hears a distinctive bang which he believes is a gunshot. Meanwhile, a sleazy photographer, Manny Karp (Dennis Franz), having captured the accident with a movie camera, is peddling his film to the tabloids. Jack pieces together stills from a magazine and creates a movie with his recorded sound, now convinced that the accident was an assassination. He stops Sally from leaving town, but he gets no help from the police, who write him off as a “conspiracy nut.” The plot only thickens when a mysterious man (John Lithgow) seems intent on a cover-up, destroying evidence and targeting Sally for murder.

Brian De Palma’s Blow Out (1981) is a stunning and memorable thriller. His films are always visually rich and intricate. They are typically about perspective, but in this film, he questions not only what a person sees but also what is heard (at one point, Jack is mocked for being an “ear witness”). Jack’s amateur investigation is initiated by his audio recording, and his conclusion that an unusual sound is from a gun is mere speculation. When he’s able to view the film, what he sees is not a revelation but simply confirmation of what he’s already suspected. The notion of sound truly takes a front seat in the film, and it helps an audience relate to a character working in an uncommon field.

That is not to say that De Palma’s camera isn’t telling the story. Many of his films have a cynical edge, a quiet criticism underlining the movie. In Blow Out, there are constant visual reminders of an upcoming Liberty Day celebration. This is functional for the plot, but also works against the political conspiracy throughout. It seems highly critical of politics or, more specifically, politicians themselves. Those who seek to be elected into office may speak of nationalism or promise to fight in favor of the country and/or state. Blow Out separates politics from an ideal such as patriotism. In this case, the road to an elected position has not a thing to do with a national belief and everything to do with whitewashing, secrecy and murder.


In Blow Out, as well as other De Palma films, what characters perceive is not necessarily the truth, and sometimes the two are contradictions. The film begins with a person’s point-of-view, but this already is an illusion, as it is footage from a movie in progress. Similarly, TV reporters are usually reporting what Jack (and the audience) knows isn’t true. The added political element of Blow Out furthers this notion by supplementing the idea that perception can be altered to manufacture a truth. When Jack challenges the request to disregard Sally’s presence at the scene, he says, “That is the truth, isn’t it?” The response he is given is an assertion of the film’s theme: “What difference does that make to you?” Jack spends so much of the film trying to obtain the truth, but the truth is ever-changing, an unstable concept that makes achieving it an impossibility.

Travolta and Allen, who had both starred in a previous De Palma film, Carrie (1976), are wonderful together. Travolta’s acting chops had almost been sidelined for music-laden gems such as Saturday Night Fever (1977), Grease (1978) and Urban Cowboy (1980), and Blow Out was a good opportunity to show his abilities. His performance is superbly understated, and though Jack is delving further into a conspiratorial plot, he remains believable and easily garners audience support. Allen, who was the director’s wife at the time and had a starring role in his previous film, Dressed to Kill (1980), plays Sally with a childlike vulnerability. It’s an interesting opposition to her character’s profession, as well as to her rugged, street-smart characters from the earlier De Palma movies. Though both actors are outstanding, the film’s highlight, in terms of acting, is Lithgow. He’s both fascinating and loathsome, but more than anything, he’s utterly terrifying. It’s a performance that reverberates for days.

Travolta and Allen are not the only cast members appearing in other De Palma films. Franz had been in The Fury (1978) and Dressed to Kill and would star in Body Double (1984). Lithgow had made an appearance in Obsession (1976) and would provide an impressive performance (playing multiple characters) in 1992’s Raising Cain. Additionally, composer Pino Donaggio, editor Paul Hirsch and cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond had all previously worked with De Palma and would work with him again.

Blow Out was a critical champion but a disappointment at the box office. This is undoubtedly due to the ending, which is depressingly ironic and may not be to everyone’s taste. The film, however, is one of De Palma’s greatest efforts. It’s an examination of the senses, questioning what people see and hear. Such is the cinema of Brian De Palma: one cannot trust anything. The only thing that is absolutely certain is that De Palma is a director of high caliber and unparalleled skill.