Turning back the clock again this time out, just not as far as the silent era, though not too far removed therefrom. Still rather fresh off of the success of Dracula, director Tod Browning set his sights on a different sort of creepy fascination: the freak show. Indeed, pre-emptively outdoing Sssssss’s use of real venomous snakes, Browning and MGM brought in some genuine sideshow folk to lend his film a sense of verisimilitude not often seen at the time. The result, though, is somewhat questionable.
The plot of Freaks centers on the diminutive Hans, who’s fallen for the local acrobat, in spite of the fact that he’s engaged to a woman with a similar condition to his own. Unbeknownst to poor Hans, the object of his affections is decidedly more into his wealth than his love, and she’s scheming with the brutish strongman to take Hans out and inherit his fortune. The rest of the sideshow, though, is understandably not pleased with this idea, and they have the final say. Oh, and I think there’s something about one of the other performers being into Frozo the Clown, but that’s backseat material at best.
What immediately stands out about the film is exactly what Browning and company had in mind when they did their casting, and that’s the authenticity of the sideshow performers. Better than any stretch of the imagination (and likely the ability of makeup artists at the time), they are great to watch, particularly the Human Torso – Prince Randian – who lights his cigarette (using matches, mind you) entirely without aid and using only his mouth. (Meanwhile, I can barely light a match successfully with my overrated paws…) They’re the true stars of the picture, given central roles and plenty of dialogue, even if their acting prowess isn’t quite as refined as the other actors. Speaking of, they tend toward the usual early-‘30s stylings, with exaggerated line deliveries and a generally boisterous air about them, bringing them into even more contrast with the sideshow folks, who are mostly pretty subdued and naturalistic.
Where things start to go wrong for me, though, is the classification of the film as horror. Honestly, until the revenge bit at the very end (the last, say, five minutes or so, if that), there’s nothing to differentiate this film from your average relationship melodrama of the time aside from the casting. Even with the finale taken into account, with a different cast this would still likely be placed, at best, in the thriller category, and even then I’d have some massive issues with he decision. It feels as though the only reason this film has the creepy reputation it has is because the filmmakers didn’t cheap out with its characters, and that’s kinda problematic to me.
As it turns out, the 64-minute version we can watch to this day is a highly edited version of the original, which ran about a half-hour longer and featured some purportedly more graphic material, mostly the direct violence one would expect to be missing from a film from that era. Thing is, even if those scenes hadn’t been removed and ultimately lost to time, the “horror” would still be relegated to the very end of the picture. As it is, the only thing potentially horrifying left (or frankly what was present to begin with) is the inclusion of physically different people, and I don’t think I need to spell out why that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
The film did so badly at the box office and was received so poorly that Browning’s career never really recovered. While I admire the film for having the gumption to put non-actors in primary roles and often treating them as (for lack of a better word) normal people, particularly in their interactions with Frozo and his paramour, the feeling of exploitation can’t be shaken here, especially considering the genre classification that’s stuck all these years. It may not be “horror”, per se, but it is interesting and mostly entertaining, so it’s worthy of a watch, even if some ethical issues may arise.
Jeez. Tomorrow, we’re gonna go with something less ambiguous in categorization and my feelings about it. Stick with me, kids.
Allusions of Grandeur 