Writer/director Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck refusing to tie Freaky Tales down into one tidy genre is the kind of thing that makes studio marketers up at night and weirdo genre movie nerds () ecstatic. Boden and Fleck keep viewers on their tippy-toes with where this ode to Oakland in the late 80s goes next. Sometimes, it evokes Green Room. Other times, it channels a Humphery Bogart gangster movie. Still further aspects are grounded in the language of horror movie or teen romance features. Wherever this anthology film goes, the results are frequently quite entertaining.
Freaky Tales spins four yarns set over roughly a few days in Oakland. As opening narration reveals, this California destination is a place of vibrant culture, tight-knit neighbors, and also maybe some green-tinted supernatural forces. The first of these tales gets Freaky Tales off on the right foot by immediately indicating that this Boden and Fleck feature won’t just crib the same 80s pop culture influences as Stranger Things, It, and Ghostbusters: Afterlife. Rather than cribbing from Amblin titles, Freaky Tales makes room for movie theater marquees shouting out Ishtar and music that could’ve hailed from a Dead Kennedy album.
Those tunes are at the forefront of a kick-off yarn very loosely adapted a real-life saga about Nazi’s invading the punk rock haven 924 Gilman Street. Next is a tale about two aspiring rappers who finally get their big chance to make a name for themselves one fateful night in a public rap battle. Boden and Fleck's anthology feature then shifts to a third story concerning tormented bruiser Clint (Pedro Pascal), while the entire production concludes with "The Legend of Sleepy Floyd.” This grand finale follows Oakland crooks trying to steal memorabilia from the houses of basketball players like Sleepy Floyd. Turns out, though, that these guys stole from the wrong iconic athlete.
As if referencing Ishtar (with nary a mocking joke in sight!) wasn’t enough to get Freaky Tales on my good side, its sharp visual sensibilities certainly did the trick. All four of these stories are told with crackling and frazzled images evoking both features shot on film and the visual byproducts of watching something on a VHS tape. Additionally, each yarn has its own unique aspect ratio, with the screen constantly widening and shrinking depending on what each narrative needs. The more youthful opening story even has super heightened anarchic hand-drawn animation bouncing off the live-action performers. While Clint’s grizzled yarn has more restrained visual impulses, those young punks are accompanied by fast-moving animated accentuations ripped straight out of a sketchbook.
There’s welcome vibrancy and originality to the images of Freaky Tales, right down to the first segment featuring a moment where the camera is knocked to the ground by a rowdy audience member. Meanwhile, the final stories of basketball games sequences are realized through hand-drawn animation. It’s a smart cost-cutting move that also nicely parallels the inaugural stories animated flourishes. Boden and Fleck execute these tales with a welcome absence of cynicism or snark. These are very classical campfire yarns, particularly Clint’s profoundly tragic storyline. While made from the bones of earlier motion pictures, Freaky Tales is not interested in constantly name-dropping its influences or undercutting its most outlandish elements with self-aware quips like Heart Eyes. These artists are instead committed to these characters and their plights, a dedication that proves infectious.
Granted, Boden and Fleck’s writing is also more ramshackle than their visual chops. For one thing, Freaky Tales sometimes lets its character yammer on for too long. While certain dialogue-heavy sequences (such as Clint’s confrontation with a poker player) are amusing, others had me tapping my feet waiting for the genre movie mayhem to resume. Come to think of it, the greatest shortcoming in Freaky Tales is its pacing. At times, the feature can’t help but feel like a rough cut destined for trimming after test screenings.
Inevitably, like all anthology films not named Kwaidan, Freaky Tales has an inevitable underwhelming segment. In this case, "Don't Fight the Feeling" starring aspiring rappers Entice (Normani) and Barbie (Dominique Thorne). This spiel has its charms, including Normani and Thorne's terrific chemistry. There’s also a terrifically tense sequence involving these two ladies being harassed at work by the guy (Ben Mendelsohn). However, the premise lacks an extra ominous or unexpected “oomph” to make it live up to the “Freaky” part of the Freaky Tales title. While the other three stories go to various “extreme” places, “Don’t Fight the Feeling” is a bit too cookie-cutter for its own good.
Otherwise, though, Freaky Tales consistently delivers the schlocky goods. Happily, it’s not all shock value violence and excitingly macabre plot twists (though those are all still good in their own right). In his story, Pascal even injects tangible woe and caked-in pain into the character of Clint. Pascal truly is a gift among out modern leading men. Meanwhile, grand finale “The Legend of Sleepy Floyd” is an especially enthralling delight thanks to its bombardment of inventive cartoony violence and inspired needle drops. Truly terrific practical effects for gory demises abound in this storyline that would make Tom Savini proud. If there was any justice in this world, Jay Ellis’s big costume in this segment would become a new cosplay staple of comic conventions everywhere.
Freaky Tales comes on the wave of so many other movies paying tribute to 80s culture, particularly in the horror genre. While not everything in this Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck directorial effort is unprecedented, this is certainly no Totally Killer 2.0. For one thing, focusing on folks who’ve aged well beyond High School allows Freaky Tales to reference vintage pop culture like The Money Pit or The Warriors rather than have 80s 12-year-olds wax poetic on The Goonies. Rooting everything in Oakland’s specific culture, meanwhile, lends an immediate distinctiveness to Freaky Tales that makes it feel so fresh and new.
This may be a stroll down memory lane for those who grew up in late 80s Oakland. Make no mistake, though, Freaky Tales is no exercise in insular nostalgia. It also just works as awesome popcorn entertainment in the here and now. Boden and Fleck’s distinctive creative vision comes with unmistakable and occasioanlly distracting flaws, particularly in a heavy reliance on clumsy dialogue and narration. Their kooky ode to the hometowns that define us, though, is also bursting with imagination and fun, including how it refuses to stay confined to one genre for long. That’s a freaky good accomplishment!