…but for the accident of birth, you might be as they are
The inevitable discussion when Tod Browning’s Freaks comes up is that you could not make this film today for reasons of political correctness, but the truth is it was not all that acceptable then either, it came under protest at its release in 1932 as morally reprehensible (one viewer attempted to bring a lawsuit against the studio for being so frightened by the film that she miscarried). Of course, as with most classic horror of the early thirties, under the censor’s scissors, it was rapidly pared down over subsequent theatrical showings until it was outright withdrawn, and it essentially ended Tod Browning’s career. Of course, with the lower levels of birth defects and general progress of modern medicine and the death of the circus freak show act, you really could not make this movie today, all moral objections aside. From the later writings of the various sideshow folk who were involved with the film, it was always a bit of a dodgy production and obviously a bit exploitative, but Tod Browning was himself a member of the Ringling Bros. circus in his youth (performing as ‘The Living Corpse’) and the message of the film comes down largely in favour of the freaks over the often evil-natured normals.
Freaks was based on the short story “Spurs” by Tod Robbins, whose work had previously been adapted by Browning for one of his several circus pictures with Lon Chaney, The Unholy Three, although only a little of “Spurs” plot remains in the film. The original short story involved the circus backstage romance of a midget named Jacques and a scheming bareback rider named Jeanne Marie who plans to marry him and kill him for his fortune. After making a fool of Jacques at their wedding party, he chases Jeanne Marie down riding a wolfhound and wielding a sword. He kills her lover, Simon, and he then forces her to carry him across France on her shoulders.
In Browning’s film, the embarrassing wedding feast remains and the central concept of an evil bareback rider marrying a midget for his inheritance, but as the title suggests, it became a larger story of the lives of sideshow performers as well as something of a sideshow itself. It even opens with a carnival barker winding the audience up, although this was a later addition after the initial film was heavily cut after disastrous test screenings. The barker describes the cast as ‘living, breathing, monstrosities. You shuddered at them and yet, but for the accident of birth, you might be as they are!’ He introduces their code as well, which is ‘a law unto themselves. Offend one and you offend them all’ and proceeds to tell the tale of one who did just that.
What we learn immediately is that Hans, our main character and the circus’ central dwarf, played by Harry Earles (who had worked with Tod Browning on The Unholy Three previously) is engaged to the circus’ female dwarf, Frieda (his real life sister, Daisy Earles). This does not really fit together with the story as it progresses. We get quite a lot of information very quickly here, Tod Browning had a great deal of efficiency in visual communication from being a seasoned veteran of silent cinema. The first time we see Hans with bareback rider Cleopatra in the same scene has her in extra-high heels (fetishistically so), emphasizing their considerable height difference, and right from this moment she is transparently fucking with his head for both her entertainment and that of other ‘normal’ onlookers.
For the most part, all of the normal people in this film are villainous. Phroso the clown (Wallace Ford in his first major role) would appear to be an exception, with his romantic side-plot rather like every character Zeppo Marx ever played in the Marx Brothers films for MGM at the time, but there are suggestions to the contrary, such as when he says to the other good normal, Venus (Leila Hyams) in reference to their potential romance ‘You should have caught me before my operation.’ The circus owner Roscoe is marked as other by his heavy stutter, and is entering a strained marriage with one of the Siamese twins. Madame Tetrallini (presumably the fortune teller) seems to take care of the pinheads as children, and there is a French lothario who romances the other Siamese twin. All the other normal people we meet in the movie are pretty remarkably bad. Primarily there is Cleopatra, the bareback rider, who is trying to marry and kill Hans for his money, and her lover and co-conspirator, Hercules the strongman, but also any random passerby or background people tend to take delight in the humiliation of the freaks. This is an interesting commentary given that while the standard horror imagery is used only for the freaks’ revenge sequence, the actual monsters and villains of the piece are the normal people. While it may well be little more than a salve against the obvious criticisms Browning knew the picture would face, it does reflect back on the audiences who might be horrified by the appearances of the various sideshow performers.
As with most horror films of the time, Freaks takes place in an undefined European nowhere that appears to be neither the present day or any definitive past, which seems to have been employed in all cases to give audiences a ‘not happening here’ out although it also tends to give these films a strange otherworldly nightmare quality. Most of the first half of the movie is a series of sideshow life vignettes. We see the pinheads frolic like children in the forest to the horror of some hunters passing through. The blow-hard acrobatic Rollo Brothers tease hermaphrodite Josephine Joseph (who seems to be attracted to Hercules). We see the absolutely incredible Prince Randian (The Human Torso) light a cigarette (the single most impressive scene in the movie, and a truly fascinating person). The Living Skeleton and Bearded Lady celebrate the birth of their child. Mostly, we see the sideshow performers living their daily lives between their performances, hanging out in their trailers and interacting with one another outside of the public eye.
The story is launched when Hercules hatches a plot with Cleo to fleece Hans of his fortune. They will make him seem to grow ill by slowly poisoning him. That Hans was engaged to Frieda is sort of abandoned and the plot moves forward with that strange inevitability of a nightmare. The legendary wedding feast scene where they all drink from the same ‘loving cup’ and accept Cleo as one of them precipitates her freak out and she humiliates Hans by making out with the strongman at the table, then by lifting Hans up on her shoulders and parading him around helplessly. The third dwarf, Angelo, discovers their murderous plot and rallies the rest of the sideshow to band together to put a stop to it. While the circus wagons travel to the next town, a storm hits and they take their gruesome revenge. Hans, clearly, knows what’s happening as well, spitting out the poison when Cleo’s back is turned and sending her outside to her oblivion. The final shock image of Cleo post-revenge is pretty laughable, and the tacked-on reconciliation ending is pretty extraneous, but the film is overall quite effective and certainly one of a kind, intriguing in its ambiguity.
Favourite character: Obviously The Human Torso, Prince Randian, despite the all-too-brief appearance. Strong runner-up is Johnny Eck, the man with no legs who totally looks like half of James Bond and seems pretty badass, especially when he has a Luger near the end.
Favourite Moment/Scene: Probably the build-up to the revenge, from the moment we realize things are about to get ugly.
Favourite Line: Y’know, the dialogue is totally serviceable but it’s really a movie of images and not words, so nothing comes to mind.
