I viewed Freaky Tales last night with a few friends. It was stupendous.
I choose that word specifically because it captures how my fifteen year old self would have described this love letter to the East Bay. The movie was gritty, tender, smart, and full of exaggeratedly stylized bloody violence. More than anything, it was freaky.
I would not understand the intricacies of freaky as a descriptor until later in life, so if exposed to this cinematic experience in 1987, stupendous would be the adjective of choice.
With some perspective and maturity, I can see that this will be one of the great cult classics of (somewhat) independent filmmaking, due in great part to its obvious antifascist message. While there are many movies coming out these days reflecting our disgust with the fascist system making itself visible in this present moment, precious few exemplify how real people work together to fight back against real world oppression.
Most other stories are limited to mockery of the powerful or fantastical wish fulfillment exclusively, while Freaky Tales takes you into a collective meeting of punks deciding how to deal with Nazis crashing their shows. This is real world stuff stylized into a fantastic performance rather than a fantasy of voting out the fascists or appealing to the better angels of their nature.
Granted, the fantastical gets more and more into the realm of the redemptive power of violence without the collective action for liberation that begins the film, to the point of making a literal superhero out of a basketball player. But that’s why the film begins with the punks fighting back collectively. It sets the stage for the many ways we can imagine overcoming adversity as an underdog. By the end we can enjoy the fantasy of a single avenger making the world right with his arsenal, but after the film is over we will come back to the reality of people working together to stand up to their real world antagonists.
The four story lines provide a selection of ways underdogs work to make the world as right as they can, within the limitations of their respective situations. I’ve mentioned the collective punks. This is followed by the power of young black women supporting each other in a male dominated scene, calling out men on stage. The rapping ladies win over their would be oppressor, the successful male rapper and his acceptance and respect for them exemplifies how those who ascend to positions of power can remember when they too were underdogs. More important is the prime lesson that friends can empower each other to achieve greatness.
In the segment regarding an enforcer/hitman trying to be done with that life, his choice to not send his young nemesis to jail (likely for life) shows that redemption is not always sending your enemies to jail. While this segment is complicated and has much to dive into, I leave it at this: This part is an exploration of how an individual can attempt to make things as right as he can in a horrendous situation. It’s something we all will be facing soon if we are not already.
Of course, the last segment of superhero basketball player is about what stories we can imagine if we were free to create worlds that don’t just support the dominant culture. I can’t be too critical of this revenge fantasy. It’s another way that people of the East Bay would imagine an answer to “what would it be like” as the ending credits music video from our rapping ladies sing, flying over Oakland.
What it would be like is people realizing a common enemy like the punks and the rappers who nod to each other after they yell back at drive by nazis in the first scene (which gets repeated in a later scenario). What it would be like is people hearing plans for fascist violence and reaching out to other communities in solidarity to warn them. What it would be like is images of communities working together to make music and sport that lift up whole underdog communities to seek redemption not just in violence, but in solidarity and collective action.
In my mind, that is stupendous.
Solomon Everta 