Six Weeks of Halloween 2024: Tod Browning’s Sideshow Shockers

In Robert Aickman’s short story “Ringing the Changes,” a surreal crowd of townfolk parade through the streets chanting:

The living and the dead dance together.
Now’s the time. Now’s the place. Now’s the weather.

When I read it a few years ago, I found it to be a fittingly macabre slogan for The Six Weeks of Halloween as a concept. As we approach Autumn, there’s a chill in the air, leaves are changing color and falling from their trees, people start breaking out their sweaters and adorning their household with all manner of mutilated gourds, decorative corpses, plastic spiders, styrofoam gravestones with cute, ironic captions, and of course, the (pumpkin) spice must flow. These and other ostensibly ghastly traditions can mean only one thing: It’s Halloween Season!

Around these parts, we celebrate that Hallowed E’en by watching a veritable plethora of horror movies (and we read some spooky books while we’re at it) for the six weeks leading up to the big day. Why six weeks? Well, it used to be two weeks better than the standard October marathons that a lot of folks do, but everyone’s been stepping up their game over the last few years, to the point where we’re just conventional at this point.

It’s traditional to start the marathon off with something that’s at least nominally respectable. Which is not to say that it won’t be schlocky fun, just that there will be some element to the theme that might hint towards something a little more classy than typical. Things like silent movies, foreign films (more foreign films), arthouse flicks, classic anthologies, celebrated studios (and other celebrated studios), and the like. This year, with the help of the fine folks over at The Criterion Collection (always a safe option for more respectable horror), we’ve lined up a trio of Tod Browning’s Sideshow Shockers.

Browning is most famous for directing the first sound film adaptation of Dracula (a Universal monster movie classic that we’ve revisited multiple times during these Six Weeks of Halloween marathons), but his notorious followup to that film was Freaks, an infamously transgressive film that we’ll talk a little more about below. Freaks also touches on topics and themes that Browning often tackled: outsiders, con artists, grifters, carnivals, sideshows, gypsies, vagabonds, and the like. All three films we’re watching this week are from that milieu, though only one is a sound film. Browning himself spent time working at a circus (as a clown) before moving on to Vaudeville and eventually Hollywood (he was a protégée of D.W. Griffith), so the man has the experience to back up his interests. Let’s dive in:

Week 1: Tod Browning’s Sideshow Shockers

• The Simpsons: Treehouse of Horror XXIV: Freaks, No Geeks (Disney+)
• The X-Files: “Humbug” (episode)
• Freaked (trailer)

Freaks – An infamously transgressive film, surely one of the strangest things ever produced by a major American studio, this film was initially a financial and critical disaster, but developed a cult following and eventual reevaluation decades later.

A beautiful but cruel trapeze artist seeks to marry a sideshow performer, but when it becomes clear that she’s been poisoning him in order to inherit his fortune, the rest of the sideshow “freaks” rise up in righteous vengeance.

Browning famously cast real-life sideshow performers to portray the performers at the circus, which certainly lends an authenticity and verisimilitude to the proceedings. There’s always been criticism of the film’s potential to exploit its cast’s physical disabilities for amusement’s sake, but the story does everything in its power to portray an inclusive community who, shunned by mainstream society, have their own code of acceptance and inclusion. It’s telling that Browning doesn’t really show the performers onstage (i.e. for an audience’s amusement), but instead demonstrates their talents in a more understated and organic manner (i.e. a quadruple amputee lights his own cigarette using only his mouth during a conversation, and so on).

Indeed, for a film made in 1932 (a time when eugenics was nearing its peak in popularity), the film must have been shocking in its portrayal of circus freaks as actual people with real feelings, hopes, and dreams. The whole point of the film is that the more conventional people, like the trapeze artist and strongman who look down on the sideshow performers as subhuman freaks and seek to take advantage of them, are the real monsters here.

Audiences at the time didn’t really see it that way, and were revolted at the film. Early screenings were significantly longer and reportedly more gruesome than the cut that was eventually released and survives today (nearly 30 minutes of footage was cut and is thought to be lost), but the ending remains effective, perhaps even moreso because of what you do not see. To be sure, it’s not a perfect film. The narrative is simplistic and while the cast and setting are quite authentic, the performances are a bit stilted. But these flaws tend to be more endearing than anything else, and it remains an effective bit of social commentary and, remarkably odd, even today, for a major studio release. The Criterion presentation is the best the film has ever looked, and has lots of special features as well. ***1/2

• Toss to the Death (Robot Chicken)
• The Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari (trailer)
• Circus of Fear (trailer)

The Unknown – A circus bound love triangle develops between an armless knife thrower (he uses his feet) and a strongman vying for the affections of their female assistant. One of the men is actually an infamous criminal who is hiding out in disguise, and seeks to sabotage the the other’s attempts at love. Ironic twists and machinations culminate in a tragic showdown.

Browning often collaborated with “the man of a thousand faces,” Lon Cheney (most famous for his turn in the silent Phantom of the Opera), and this is the most famous and celebrated of their work together. It’s easy to see why, with Cheney giving a remarkable physical performance. Even accounting for the usage of a body double for some of the footwork (Cheney plays the armless knife thrower who is remarkably dexterous with his feet and toes), it’s quite effective and really sells the character’s shocking decision later in the film. I won’t spoil the bitterly ironic, O. Henry-esque twists at the core of the story, even if you might see where it’s headed (though I must admit, I wasn’t really expecting the film to get quite so strange and lurid). Cheney doesn’t do crazy makeup or anything here, but he sells all the turmoil his character is going through with his exaggerated facial expressions, grimaces, scowls, and whatnot, sometimes managing to evoke resignation, heartbreak, and even sympathy for a fundamentally callous character.

Also of note is an early performance from a young Joan Crawford as the love interest and the rest of the supporting cast also does fine work. The plot focuses a bit more heavily on the melodrama than I usually like, and it all feels like a bit of a dry (silent) run for Freaks, but it’s worthwhile on its own as well. If you’re interested in film history, it’s neat to see how Browning evolved these settings and themes across the three movies in this set.

Visually, I’ve never found Browning to be quite as dynamic as the expressionistic films of the era, even though there is a clear influence at work here. Take the scene where Cheney confronts a doctor in a cathedral-like surgical suite, which is certainly a striking visual, even if it’s not as extreme as something like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (a clear influence on most horror films of the 1920s). That being said, I’ve always found Browning to have a keen eye for framing and blocking that is too often dismissed in favor of more showy techniques.

The Criterion presentation is sourced from the only two remaining nitrate prints of the film, so it actually looks the worst of the three films in this set, even if it’s probably as good as possible (to be clear, any issues here are with the poorly preserved film and not with Criterion and their digital partners) and better than most public domain silent films that you’re likely to find for free on the streaming services (and hey, I’ll certainly take that over AI upscaled slop or, like, you know, nothing – Browning’s London After Midnight was made in the same year as The Unknown, but is one of the most famous lost films of all time and I’d totally take a crappy transfer over nothing). Criterion also sourced a new piano-heavy score which pretty much conforms to what you’d expect from a silent film, but is well done, and an audio commentary that’s solid and informative. Overall, I don’t see how this could look or sound any better unless someone finds a well preserved and pristine print somewhere (which has happened!) ***

• Nightmare Alley (2021) (trailer)
• Nightmare Alley (1947) (trailer)
• The Astrologer (trailer)

The Mystic – After decades of only being available on VHS, this is the least seen and rarest of the three movies in this set. Sourced from a 35 mm safety print (the intricacies of old timey film stock are perhaps worthy of their own post and, uh, some learning on my part, as I’m certainly no expert on this sort of thing except to say that this transfer looks pretty good for a film made in 1925) with a new score by Dean Hurley (best known for his frequent collaborations with David Lynch), it looks and sounds pretty great.

Small time Hungarian gypsy hustlers with an effective psychic act are approached by an American grifter who lures them to New York to swindle rich high-society types. Another love triangle develops here, as well as some grinchlike transformations, but the real stars of the show are the elaborate séance set-pieces. Browning takes you behind the con to see just how these things work, but the actual presentation is quite effective, even when you know how it’s being pulled off.

Browning was not able to get Lon Chaney for this film, and perhaps the cast of mostly unknowns is part of why the film has languished in obscurity for so long. That being said, Eileen Pringle does great work as the titular Mystic, aided by some rather spectacular costumes by famed art deco designer Romain de Tirtoff (also known as Erté). Browning and cinematographer Ira H. Morgan light her in a way that literally makes her glow on screen at times, and her performance can stand up to the scrutiny.

As mentioned above, this is a silent film with a new score by Dean Hurley, who does include sound effects in the mix (i.e. knocking on a door, the sweeping sound of a broom, cheers or laughs of a crowd, horse hooves, and so on). I’m not a silent film expert, but this is an approach I have not seen often, and it made for interesting watching (even if it was sometimes odd to hear the sound effects but not dialogue). Clocking in at a svelte 74 minutes, it’s actually the longest of the three movies here, even if it is shorter than most House of the Dragon episodes.

Once again, it does feel like we’re looking at the larval stages of what would eventually become The Unknown and then Freaks, but that’s what makes this set interesting. ***

A successful start for the 2024 Six Weeks of Halloween marathon, stay tuned for more: we’ve got some Dracula movies, a trio of Dario Argento flicks, some Larry Fessenden, a few Neo-Slashers, Flyquels, and much, much moar!