Review: "Freaks"

BROWNING, Tod (Dir.), “Freaks”, 1932, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer/Warner Bros.

Many people have referred me to this film in the past – I wonder what that says about their perception of me? Regardless, I have resisted getting into it: that’s partly because the best way to get me to avoid experiencing something is to tell me that I “have to” see it, or that I’ll “love it!” I like to find; not to be pushed.

The other reason is that I find the spectacle of so-called freaks genuinely distressing. I have way too much empathy in these situations and (regardless of the circumstances) I feel bad for the situation these people find themselves in and under which they endure; I find that the line between celebration and exploitation becomes very slippery indeed and it makes me uncomfortable.

So, when this DVD showed up at the shop, I thought that I might at last, take the plunge and see where it led me.

Of course, since it’s me, I did some research. Apparently, Tod Browning came from a well-heeled environment but ran away to the circus due to matters of the heart. Touring through Los Angeles, he ran into a studio mogul who suggested he try acting: a few bit parts later he jumped behind the camera and found his metier. His stint as a film director is no light weight, dilettante effort either: the guy has over 60 film credits under his belt. After making “Dracula” in 1931 (complete with its Undead Aardvarks and Opossums of the Night), the studio gave him carte blanche to come up with something of his own devising. What he came up with was “Freaks”.

I guess this is a case of writing what you know – the old chestnut that every wannabe writer gets pasted with at one time or another. Mr. Browning had direct contact with the eponymous circus performers and so, he knew where to look when he started casting. Of course no travelling show at the time, apart from Barnum & Bailey’s, had as many freaks as he managed to assemble here, so right from the off we’re seeing something out of the ordinary. We have a thin man, a bearded lady, a hermaphrodite, several “pinheads”, some dwarfs, a limbless man, a fellow with no lower half, a set of conjoined twins and two women lacking arms. By any standard, this is a confronting line-up.

The story, once we get into it, is a melodramatic one: a conflict of lovers, of which there are three sets. The first is a pair of dwarfs, long-time friends who are destined to marry; he is the heir to a vast European fortune. The second couple are an aerialist and the circus strongman: they have plenty of chemistry, but no cash and expensive tastes. The last pair are a straight-talking clown and an acrobat, the ditched former girlfriend of the previously-mentioned strongman.

The aerialist concocts a plan to marry the dwarf for his money, then poison him, inheriting the loot leaving her free to run off with the strongman. The two crooks set about their plan with gusto and (and here is where the film starts to really become something special) are disconcerted to discover that everyone else in the circus has seen what they’re really up to. At the wedding feast, the freaks make one last ditch effort to ascertain if the high-flying gold-digger is on the level; her reaction confirms their suspicions ... and seals her fate.

The script and the plot are very carefully constructed and, given the material, it needed to be. The bad-guys are set up as parodies of the worst kind of patronising hypocrites that any freak could dread to consort with; we automatically turn our condemnation upon them for their greed and insensitivity. The clown and his girl, on the other hand, are so forthright, unclouded, all-embracing and accepting that we align ourselves with them as examples of how we would like to think we would be, in their situation. Running parallel with the major plot is a light-hearted storyline involving the conjoined twins and their wedding arrangements to two other fellows: this appears as a ludicrous situation, but it is at heart a serious matter, and it casts uneasy shadows on the ‘inappropriateness’ of the wedding themes colouring the main plot. Interspersing the story issues are scenes which show the various freaks engaged in frankly amazing activities which, for them, are simple day-to-day tasks. See: a woman with no arms drink a glass of beer! See: a man with no arms or legs roll, light and smoke a cigarette! These vignettes, while arguably voyeuristic to an extent, convince the audience to focus on the abilities of these players, not their limitations.

That being said, when the freaks take their vengeance on the strongman, the sight of the limbless man crawling towards him with a knife in his mouth does push the limits of credibility a tad far. Still, this guy fathered and raised children in his off-screen life, so who knows what he could have done?

Talking of their revenge, I had an epiphany moment during the wedding feast: during the toast, the freaks begin a chant which signals the acceptance of the aerialist into their tribe. “Gooble, gobble! Gooble, gobble!” they chant, “one of us! One of us!” Anyone who has seen the first “Toy Story” movie will suddenly (like me) know exactly where that creepy scene with the mashed toys from the house next door came from.

There are some great performances here, even though most of the actors are not professionals in the traditional sense. The dwarf couple are especially good (in real life they were siblings who, along with their other sisters, comprised a “Dancing Dolls” act at Coney Island). Others have limitations, especially in intellectual capacity, that are painfully obvious on screen and this can cause discomfort for the viewer. Nevertheless, it’s the bravery of this film – and everyone involved – that lies at its heart and which makes it truly worth watching.

Four tentacled horrors.

*****