Freaks (1932)

Recently we threw a party and the conversation, quite naturally, turned to circus life. Not the circus life we all presume to lead, the hectic, harriedness of our day to day, but actual trapeze walking, fire eating, lion taming circus life. Ari, our wonderful Scribbles manager (who sadly is moving away tomorrow!) has been obsessed with joining for some time, which probably tempted her to take a class about Freaks when she went to UVM. They read one of my favorite books Geek Love (Seth, if you're reading this, thanks again for that tip) and she mentioned, of course, that they also watched Tod Browning's 1932 cult film Freaks. Well, if that's not a tip for this blogger to pick up what is? One quick trip to my cue and Freaks arrived three days later . . .

The Basics: Based on Tod Robbins' short story "Spurs", Freaks centers on an evil, beautiful trapeze artist Cleopatra, who with her lover, strong man Hercules, plots to marry and murder the midget Hans, the heir to a massive fortune. When Hans' friends discover the plot to poison him, they enact a truly freakish revenge.

Written in Greek tragic style, and cast entirely with actual deformed circus performers, Freaks is as poetic as it is authentic, despite a rocky history. Director Tod Browning was actually a member of the circus when he was younger and the film is no doubt infused with this experience. He was also a skilled and respected horror director, having won Hollywood over with the 1931 Bela Lugosi hit Dracula. However, Browning's bold and, to my mind, brilliant idea to use "real" freaks in the film so disgusted audiences that it was cut down by nearly a third and banned in Britain for thirty years. Browning was virtually unhiriable after the film debuted (although he later directed Hollywood heavyweight Lionel Barrymore in two films, his final picture was in 1939). The film was considered a failure until the 1960's when it began its rise to the cult status it currently enjoys, including its induction in The United States National Film Registry for, and I paraphrase, "cultural, historical, or aesthetic significance."

It seems that Browning, to my not-fully-informed mind a very intelligent director (I've yet to see Dracula), produced an eloquent motion picture that was fully lost on most audiences of its day. Freaks intends, and indeed succeeds, in examining the classic parable of inner versus outer beauty. In this world, the "normals" are deranged, perverse individuals without an ounce of remorse, tenderness, or love in their outwardly typical bodies. The "freaks" - the armless and legless, the pinheads, the midgets and Siamese twins - are tender, fragile, loving people. They are compassionate and caring, warm, inviting people without judgement and without hatred. The film exceeds expectations in proving this, but unfortunately Browning's audience is much like the one in the opening scene - shocked by the physical, they scream and turn away from the hideous, the immediately frightening.

To a modern audience, Freaks is incredibly powerful, not merely because of its authenticity, but its extremely well executed narrative. Each scene is carefully crafted and terribly moving, from the freakish "children", gleefully playing, being frightened away by locals, to the wedding feast where all welcome the normal Cleopatra, inviting her to drink from the same cup they all drink from, when she throws it in their face, calling them "dirty filthy freaks!" The final scene is perhaps what won Freaks the number 15 spot on Bravo's 100 Scariest Movie Moments. Impeccably timed and shot, when the freaks surround their tormentors and prepare to enact the terrible fate we learn about in the opening scene, well, my goodness, it would make anyone's skin crawl. It's the kind of scene one could watch again and again and be, dare I say it, freaked out every single time. I can't believe I said that, but darn it folks, it's true. I was creeped out but in awe the entire time.

I have to admit, despite the poetry of it all, at times watching feels more like gawking. It's simply so incredible, these physical deformities. There is one man who has no arms and no legs, he's just a torso, neck and head. In one scene he's listening to a fellow freak while lighting a cigarette. His friend does nothing to help, why should he, torso's been living this way for years. He moves over to the matchbox, cigarette in mouth, takes out a match, lights it, lights the cigarette, and blows the match out, all with a few movements of his mouth and shoulders. Then there's the pinhead children who have the bodies of young girls but the shrunken heads of men, the bone thin spider man married to the bearded lady, and the armless woman who eats and drinks with her feet. In one way you can almost see how people were unable to cope with the characters on screen, incapable of seeing past something they simply couldn't fathom. Almost . . . if this movie weren't so totally intelligently-beautifully-awesome!

Millie's bees to knees meter (1 bee = blah, 10 bees = hoo-rah): 9

oh by the by - thanks to all (ahem, both) of you that voted on which chapeau I should don for the wedding event. Although the votes veered towards the lovely lace number, I ended up in the poppy. But hopefully the event for my film noir cap will present itself in the near future! Here's a picture of me with dear, sweet Ari, without whom I wouldn't have watched Freaks so soon.