Of Freaks and Men is a bizarre but nonetheless fascinating period film set in turn-of-the- century Saint Petersburg. The most immediately noticeable quality of the film is its unique style. Set almost entirely in sepia tone, the film includes dialogue and a full soundtrack wrapped around silent-era title cards. Freaks does not merely comply with the dress and verbiage of late Tsarist Russia–it truly feels old.
The story itself, however, is certainly not the stuff of early Russian film. The morbid tale of Johann, the impossibly cold, seemingly emotionless, and sometimes murderous pornography kingpin, breaking apart and exploiting two families for the production of smutty photographs and videos, is far more representative of contemporary themes in Russian film of the late 1990s. It portrays an outdated "dark reality" as if the cinema of the time had been willing to do, with a morbid twist. Johann's unflinching homicides as a matter of momentary convenience, an old "nanny" beating nude women with a switch, and a maid exposing herself to her Siamese-twin charges behind her employer's back all contribute to the films taboo, yet darkly humorous air.
The humor is not so easily found in the plight of Johann's subjects, who through a series of legal and illicit dealings have been left at his mercy. The innocent young Leeza, so excited to receive new music records at the beginning of the film, is reduced to posing naked for sadist pornography. The talented Siamese twin brothers, nurtured by an enlightened and loving father, perform for crowded theaters as "freaks." None, however, can escape Johann, a state of imprisonment that is reflected in Of Freaks and Men's cinematic style. The dull sepia tone traps the story in shades of brown, a muddy state that traps the palette between the bright hues of color and the crispness of black-and-white. The settings are also largely indoors, and the cautious opening and closing of doors is the focus of several shots, implying that nothing inside is supposed to escape. The film even feels imprisoned in time, as events like Johann's calling for "Nanna" and the arrival and departure of the train that is perpetually refueling outside Leeza's window repeat themselves prominently and seemingly without end.
Unlike many films of the Soviet era, it is difficult to interpret Of Freaks and Men. It is not a story of hope, but its surprisingly light atmosphere and ending render it not quite one of despair either. Nor does it make an obvious judgment on society in pre-Revolutionary Russia. The twisted money-grabbing tendencies of Johann may well be a finger pointed at Russia's new upper class, whose wealth is as dirty as that earned from exploitation and smut. This is not a film for all tastes, but its highly creative style and cinematography, and unique subject matter make it extremely interesting, even for the faint of heart.
The story itself, however, is certainly not the stuff of early Russian film. The morbid tale of Johann, the impossibly cold, seemingly emotionless, and sometimes murderous pornography kingpin, breaking apart and exploiting two families for the production of smutty photographs and videos, is far more representative of contemporary themes in Russian film of the late 1990s. It portrays an outdated "dark reality" as if the cinema of the time had been willing to do, with a morbid twist. Johann's unflinching homicides as a matter of momentary convenience, an old "nanny" beating nude women with a switch, and a maid exposing herself to her Siamese-twin charges behind her employer's back all contribute to the films taboo, yet darkly humorous air.
The humor is not so easily found in the plight of Johann's subjects, who through a series of legal and illicit dealings have been left at his mercy. The innocent young Leeza, so excited to receive new music records at the beginning of the film, is reduced to posing naked for sadist pornography. The talented Siamese twin brothers, nurtured by an enlightened and loving father, perform for crowded theaters as "freaks." None, however, can escape Johann, a state of imprisonment that is reflected in Of Freaks and Men's cinematic style. The dull sepia tone traps the story in shades of brown, a muddy state that traps the palette between the bright hues of color and the crispness of black-and-white. The settings are also largely indoors, and the cautious opening and closing of doors is the focus of several shots, implying that nothing inside is supposed to escape. The film even feels imprisoned in time, as events like Johann's calling for "Nanna" and the arrival and departure of the train that is perpetually refueling outside Leeza's window repeat themselves prominently and seemingly without end.
Unlike many films of the Soviet era, it is difficult to interpret Of Freaks and Men. It is not a story of hope, but its surprisingly light atmosphere and ending render it not quite one of despair either. Nor does it make an obvious judgment on society in pre-Revolutionary Russia. The twisted money-grabbing tendencies of Johann may well be a finger pointed at Russia's new upper class, whose wealth is as dirty as that earned from exploitation and smut. This is not a film for all tastes, but its highly creative style and cinematography, and unique subject matter make it extremely interesting, even for the faint of heart.