FREAKY TALES is a pitch-perfect love letter to Oakland and ‘80s action-adventure films
Freaky Tales
Written and directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck
Starring Pedro Pascal, Ben Mendelsohn, Jay Ellis, Normani, Dominique Thorne, Jack Champion, Ji-young Yoo, and Angus Cloud
Rated R
Runtime: 1 hour and 47 minutes
In theaters April 4
by Rachel Shatto, Staff Writer
Freaky Tales opens with a title card that places the viewer in Oakland, California in 1987 and promises a hella good time awaits. That a movie is a love letter to a city, a place, or a time is not unique, but that a movie is a love letter to this time and place feels special—and make no mistake, Freaky Tales, which is written and directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, the latter of whom was raised in the Oakland, is just that.
Freaky Tales–which takes its name from a classic track by beloved local rapper Too Short and is loosely based in part on events from his life–not only takes place in the 1980s but feels like an unearthed artifact from that bygone era. It's as if someone blew the dust off of a long-forgotten VHS cassette and popped it in a VCR only to reveal a hidden gem that would have easily sat on a video store shelf between Repo Man (dir. Alex Cox, 1984) and The Last Dragon (dir. Michael Schultz, 1985).
As in those films, a surreal and vaguely supernatural adventure unfolds in an urban setting. A mysterious green glow, conjuring memories of the aforementioned Repo Man, appears throughout the film and audiences are also treated to another favorite ‘80s trope—an over-the-top, revenge-fueled martial arts showdown—the likes of which hasn’t been seen since The Last Dragon. These inclusions mark Freaky Tales as both an homage to the era it’s set in and a celebration of the joys of the style of special effects of that time. Despite those throwback trappings, the film’s themes of pushing back against fascism and the power of the underdog feel all too relevant—and frequently cathartic today.
The film comprises four chapters that present very different elements and areas of the city. They intertwine, overlap, and culminate in an explosive chapter that brings all the disparate elements together, reinforcing the ways in which Oakland is often underestimated and devalued but also how the power of this community comes from an interconnectedness and unique identity.
The opening chapter follows a group of teens who find themselves squaring off against a throng of local Nazis who’ve taken to harassing them at the local punk venue, 924 Gilman Street. While the showdown plays out with fantastical elements, it's actually based on real events that saw punks facing down a group of skinheads after they attacked the club's bouncer, leading to a brawl that ultimately chased off the Nazis.
The second chapter again pulls from real-life inspiration and centers around a rap battle between Too Short and an up-and-coming rap duo, Danger Zone, where its members, Barbie and Entice, trade barbs with the seasoned rapper. For those familiar with the song “Don’t Fight the Feeling,” this moment will likely spur some joyful rap-alongs.
The third chapter introduces Pedro Pascal’s character, an enforcer for the local heavy who has just one more job to complete before he can ride off into the sunset. It goes as exactly to plan as you would expect, which is not at all, while Pascal infuses this character with charm, pathos, and his usual level of gravitas as the reluctant goon. He unsurprisingly steals the show with both his more humorous beats (alongside another local hero who makes a cameo, but which we won't spoil here) and in the more emotional moments of his journey. Also chewing up the scenery is Ben Mendelsohn, who stars as a crooked cop and infuses the role with a level of mustache-twirling glee and unbridled villainy that feels ripped right from the best ‘80s action films.
Freaky Tales culminates with a Glorious Grand Guignol of blood that is a delight to behold. Is it an absurd wish fulfillment? Definitely. But it offers the kind of release and gruesome joy that’s sure to be a crowd-pleaser. What's particularly impressive is how well the movie works as a popcorn classic while also delivering cutting social commentary. For instance, its portrayal of the links between local law enforcement and neo-nazis. There are also nods to both the city’s pride in The Black Panthers movement and its history of police corruption that paved the way for The Rough Riders in the 1990s.
Despite that heavy subject matter, the film remains buoyant. Set to a soundtrack of several local artists and packed with lovable and love-to-hate-able characters, it moves along at a steady clip as the plot twists and turns and doubles back on itself, each chapter revealing more about the city's rich culture—and its corruption at the time. Freaky Tales ultimately tells a story of the triumph of the underdog, but through a lens that can only be described, in local parlance, as Oaklandish. Like Fleck, I am an Oaklander, and there’s a special kind of joy that comes from not only seeing your neighborhood (in some cases literally) lighting up the silver screen—but in a way that clearly comes from a place of love and celebration.
While the Oakland many know from the national headlines might paint a less than stellar portrait of the city, which, like all major metropolitan areas, faces its challenges, locals know better. We know the kind of love we have for the history of this city which birthed the music and culture of Too Short, Metallica, Danger Zone, Green Day, and Rancid. We know what it feels like to be the underdog, to punch up against those low expectations and corruption. From that comes a particular kind of pride, one we know but rarely see represented in the media. Freaky Tales gets that and so much more right. It truly is a celebration of “The Town,” and it's a bloody blast to boot.
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