The uniqueness of normality. The beauty of authenticity. The illusiveness of abnormality. The uncomfortable act of being seen. The ugly act of being ignored. The horror of theatricality. The truth of fiction. The monstrous clarity of objectification. The innate naturalism of aberration.The least democratic thing in our society is how attractive others find us.This movie is a subtly unfolding, intentionally clumsily-forged, plasticine act of dreamlike kindnesses and social inhumanity. Everyone is chained to something.The mostly unseen Herr Director of the movie-within-the-movie, Warner Herzog-esque in his rhetoric but Uwe Bollian in his craft, is a huge delight. And Jess Weixler does her best young Drew Barrymore at first, but arcs towards being herself as the film unclenches in its formalism.I also like how this movie opens by highlighting one of the multitude of ridiculous Ayn Randian bullshit comments that hack Pauline Kael slung in the name of film criticism.
Note: This isn't the kind of trash cinema I usually review on this site, but it's in many aspects a direct response to exactly that kind of trash cinema, so I'm pulling it into my purview. On the set of a throwback b-movie about a mad scientist trying to cure "freaks," actors with and without physical deformities hang out, trade stories, and engage in occasional breaks from reality. It's all pulled together in a hazy, Altman-ish style that keeps us perpetually unsure of how much, if any, of it is happening for real.I've certainly never seen a more honest exploration of onscreen disability than this, but it's a far cry from a preachy "message movie." I'm sure it helps that it's the work of a director who identifies as disfigured himself. It also helps that it's centered around actors as self-assured as Adam Pearson and Jess Weixler, who play off each other beautifully while unearthing rare levels of nuance. Pearson in particular turns in a deeply charming performance that's about as soulful as anything I've seen on film.It's not a perfectly executed endeavor - some of the acting is a bit stagey (although that might be intentional, given the b-movie tropes it's satirizing) and the commentary is frequently unsubtle (the script is peppered with direct quotes from Freaks, The Elephant Man, and other disabledsploitation classics (on the other hand, I love the touch of casting Charlie Korsmo, child star of the prosthetic disfigurement opus Dick Tracy, as the film-within-a-film's auteur)). On the whole, though, it's something of a must-see for folks who, like me, have spent enough time in the exploitation trenches to be able to confirm that this is a much better film than the '50s flick from which it's borrowed its title.
