I loved watching Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck’s Freaky Tales so much, I couldn’t stop grinning or laughing (seriously, I grinned so much my head hurt) – and I’m pretty sure my smartwatch thought I was experiencing some kind of unexplained heart arrhythmia. I don’t know how they did it, but this wonderful pair of directors (who also helmed 2019’s Captain Marvel, which I also loved) somehow reached into my brain, pulled out a large chunk of who I am, and then banged it down on the table as a finished anthology film. So help me this movie made me simultaneously feel just like I did when I saw Pulp Fiction in the theater with my friends, discovered Repo Man on late night TV, and heard the Blatz/Filth “Shit Split” for the first time. In other words, in total awe of what was in front of me.
Like Pulp Fiction before it, Freaky Tales (named for the song by Oakland native Too Short, who also narrates the film) takes shape over time, as its four seemingly unrelated stories converge and overlap in unexpected ways. But, instead of Los Angeles hitmen, boxers, gangsters, and sadistic perverts in the early 1990s, we get East Bay punks, rappers, philosophical video store clerks, and NBA samurais on a . Throw in some mysterious green lighting (a clear nod to the extraterrestrial Chevy Malibu in Alex Cox’s Repo Man) that unknowingly transforms its protagonists into strong and confident ass-kickers, and Freaky Tales evolves from a mere underseen oddity (that I’ll likely recommend to everyone I meet until the day I die) into a proud ode to standing up for yourself (and your friends) in the face of overwhelming odds.
Freaky Tales begins its saga at the famous Gilman Street Project in Berkeley, a real-life all-ages volunteer-run punk club that opened in 1987 and is still going strong today. After an attack (not the first) by a group of Neo-Nazis, the Gilman punks decide to take action, resulting in the most fun-filled beatdown I’ve ever seen on film. As satisfying as all the Nazi deaths in Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds might be, there’s something extremely special about watching a group of punk rockers (Ji-young Yoo and Jack Champion) beat the ever-living shit out of a bunch of boneheads who repeatedly victimize them and ruin their shows. The fact that this opening salvo of righteous violence is based on a true story (I’m not kidding, green lighting and makeshift weaponry aside, the Gilman Street punks really did defend their turf from a group of Neo-Nazis – who never returned after getting their asses royally kicked) makes my love for Freaky Tales that much more potent.
(Never mind that the band playing in the real-life version was MDC, who definitely would not have played Negative Approach and Black Flag covers, but these songs – “Ready to Fight” and “Rise Above” respectively – perfectly capture the attitude of this “enough is enough” moment. P.S. for more, watch Corbett Redford’s excellent documentary Turn It Around: The Story of East Bay Punk, which retells the true story with lots of humor and pride.)
Despite my complete adoration for watching punk rockers utterly destroy Nazis, Freaky Tales has even more to offer. Each of its stories in one way or another is about the power of positivity and having the will to stand up to corrupt authority and injustice – something we could all use in abundance right now. From a pair of female rappers (Dominique Thorne and Normani) shutting down Too Short’s (fictionalized by DeMario Symba Driver) misogynistic lyrics in a rap battle, to a weary loan shark collector looking to start a family (a fantastically subdued Pedro Pascal), to NBA star Eric Augustus “Sleepy” Floyd (Jay Ellis) serving up hot vengeance on racist cops and their cohorts (Ben Mendelsohn and the late Angus Cloud), I can’t recommend Freaky Tales enough. And that’s before all the fun surprise appearances by some of the Bay Area’s favorite sons. Good lord I think I’m still grinning.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.