There’s a reaction shot in Mel Brooks’ The Producers when the open-mouthed audience watches the “Springtime for Hitler” number in shocked disbelief, amazed that something so crass and campy could have made it on Broadway. The scene is hilarious because Brooks knows he’s gone far beyond the bounds of tastefulness, and it’s become a classic example of how you can milk humor from sacred cows. Clearly Gabriele Mainetti didn’t get the message, because a goose-stepping circus extravaganza in Freaks Out is so oblivious to its execrable taste and so devoid of even camp value that the film’s viewers watch in amazement that the director, whose They Called Me Jeeg got so much right, could get so much very, very wrong.
The goose-stepping number isn’t even the low point in this wildly ill-advised yet clearly costly misfire about a circus foursome with special powers trying to survive in Nazi-occupied Rome, where a sadistic German piano-playing ringmaster with visions of the future – played with unmodulated delirium by Franz Rogowski – seeks to change history and prevent the defeat of the Third Reich. Shrill, devoid of genuine humor and completely unaware of just how offensive it is, Freaks Out is so awash in swastikas it would make a Hitler Youth rally look under-decorated. What’s so perplexing is that Mainetti doesn’t appear to realize why this might generate discomfort, though he and the producers are likely in for a surprise given a near-certainty that the movie has little chance of making money either at home or abroad.
It opens in 1943 in a provincial circus run by Israel (Giorgio Tirabassi), whose main acts are albino Cencio (Pietro Castellitto), dwarf Mario (Giancarlo Martini), wolfman Fulvio (Claudio Santamaria) and the lone girl, Matilde (Aurora Giovinazzo). Each has special powers: Cencio commands all the insects, Mario is magnetic (his skin, not his personality), Fulvio is both hirsute and extra strong and Matilde’s body courses with electricity. When an air raid destroys the town, they set out for Rome, where Israel hopes to get them all visas for the States, but he’s rounded up with the city’s Jews and carted off.
Loyal Matilde goes in search of her mentor while Fulvio takes the other two to the Zirkus, a monstrous big top entered through a giant Hitler mouth, where they hope to be hired by Franz (Rogowski), who has no interest in the three misfits until discovering their special powers. In tormenting hallucinations of the future which just he can see, Franz foresees the Nazi defeat and gets the idea that only a super-powered team can prevent it. Meanwhile, Matilde is taken in by a group of mutilated partisans looking to wreak revenge on the occupiers by whatever means necessary.
Jeeg cleverly reinvented the superhero genre through a schlumpy petty thief whose newly acquired powers bring on an unexpected streak of empathy. With Freaks Out, screenwriter Nicola Guaglianone sought inspiration from Tod Browning’s Freaks, bringing together a group of people whose looks and/or special talents turn them into objects of display and revulsion, making it hard for others to see their humanity. That would be fine on its own, but why all the tired Nazi trappings? It’s all so over-the-top that even the roundup of the Jews feels cartoonish in juxtaposition, and it’s best to pass over the cattle-car scene in which Israel miraculously produces cookies for kids on their way to a concentration camp. An extended scene of maimed resistance fighters gleefully gunning down German soldiers intends to inspire the same kind of misguided cathartic thrill Inglourious Basterds aimed for, but apart from gamers, who really thinks Jews and philo-Semites should derive ghoulish glee at watching Nazis getting their heads blown off? Rather than Browning, who expertly balanced unease with pathos, the film owes more to Álex de la Iglesia and his garish The Last Circus (Balada triste de trompeta) mixed with the most fevered strains of Baz Luhrmann. Though even they would likely roll their eyes at the way Mainetti and Guaglianone try to derive hilarity from Mario’s incessant masturbation; it’s a bad sign when a dwarf with a large penis is meant to be a big source of laughter.
It doesn’t help that the characters all speak in insufferably strident tones, further turning them into caricatures. The one exception is Matilde, the sole member of the troupe who presents as “normal”; she’s allowed the only semi-affecting moment when the source of her trauma is revealed, but it’s too little, like a tiny island in a sea of hysteria. Every sound is over-amplified, be it a toppled piece of furniture, a kick, a shout or a flame. The very long finale is such a confused free-for-all that it’s difficult to figure out what’s going on, and it’s best not to think too hard about the idea of helpless Jews being rescued by “freaks” and murderous partisans with only some limbs intact.
Freaks Out must have cost a lot of money, with its big sets and location work in Rome’s ancient sites, all heavily color corrected to look more glowering in that saturated gray of so many superhero movies. Archival footage of various 20th century events, good and bad, play alongside the closing credits, showing that Franz failed to change the timeline and giving us a history lesson no one really needs.
Director: Gabriele Mainetti
Screenplay: Nicola Guaglianone, Gabriele Mainetti
Cast: Claudio Santamaria, Aurora Giovinazzo, Pietro Castellitto, Giancarlo Martini, Giorgio Tirabassi, Max Mazzotta, Franz Rogowski
Producers: Andrea Occhopinti, Gabriele Mainetti
Executive producer: Jacopo Saraceni
Co-producers: Joseph Rouschop, Jean-Yves Roubin, Isabella Orsini
Cinematography: Michele D’Attanasio
Production design: Massimiliano Sturiale
Costume design: Mary Montalto
Editing: Francesco Di Stefano
Music: Michele Braga, Gabriele Mainetti
Sound: Angelo Bonanni
VFX Supervisor: Stefano Leoni
Production companies: Goon Films (Italy), Lucky Red with RAI Cinema, Gapbusters (Belgium), in collaboration with Voo e Be TV
World sales: RAI Com, True Colours
Venue: Venice Film Festival (competition)
In Italian, German, French
140 minutes
