Freaky Tales Review: Pedro Pascal Headlines Unbalanced Oakland Underdog Story

With the recent resurgence of the anthology series on television over the past decade, the good old-fashioned anthology film has been largely relegated to the trash heap of history. Studios are interested in building franchises rather than investing in standalone films — let alone several different short films loosely tied together into one semi-cohesive unit. "Freaky Tales" bucks that trend. A defiant underdog of a film, it serves as both a love letter to the Oakland of yesteryear as well as a wry acknowledgment of its faults. Not all of the vignettes are created equal, but each has its moments, and even when it's imperfect, "Freaky Tales" is a lot of fun, with engaging performances from both its veteran actors and rising stars alike.

"Freaky Tales" is broken down into four different stories, each taking place over the course of a few days in 1987 Oakland. The first ("The Gilman Strikes Back") sees a group of punks, including budding teen lovebirds Lucid (Jack Champion) and Tina (Ji-young Yoo), face off against an intimidating gang of neo-Nazis. After their club — a safe space for the young outcasts — is violently raided by the sneering white supremacists, the punks decide to launch a counteroffensive, defending their territory in a zany, triumphant street fight. The second ("Don't Fight the Feeling") features two young female music artists (Dominique Thorne and Normani) who are invited to participate in a rap battle with a much more established performer, Too $hort. The stakes are high and they worry about whether or not they're being brought in solely to be humiliated, but with the power of Oakland's mysterious green space energy (a recurring motif in the film), they have the confidence to shine against the rapper.

The third segment ("Born to Mack") stars Pedro Pascal as a rugged enforcer on the verge of retirement, when the sins of his past come back to create tragedy in his personal life. He reaches the conclusion of his character arc in the fourth short ("The Legend of Sleepy Floyd"), which details the coordinated robbery of players on the Oakland Warriors by operatives of The Guy (a cartoonishly villainous Ben Mendelsohn) and its bloody aftermath. Elements of each story are carried over into the others, creating a narrative thread that binds the various "Freaky Tales" together.

The problem with any anthology film, of course, is that the individual stories will inevitably vary in quality, and their weaknesses are thrown into sharp contrast as they are so closely linked with one another. "Freaky Tales" isn't exempt from this issue, as some of the stories work better than others. "The Gilman Strikes Back" and "Don't Fight the Feeling" feature slight narratives but never wear out their welcome, with sprightly performances from their young leading actors.

"Born to Mack" features arguably the film's biggest star, Pedro Pascal, but though his character provides connective tissue for the other stories, his vignette is where "Freaky Tales" begins to drag. It doesn't contribute anything new to the tired "one last job" trope and struggles to justify its own existence (note-perfect cameo from Bay Area native Tom Hanks as a mysterious video store clerk notwithstanding). His character might have been better off as a supporting figure in the other stories rather than a lead in his own.

The strongest piece in the production — by a country mile — is "The Legend of Sleepy Floyd," where Jay Ellis plays the real-life basketball star on a quest for revenge in response to a botched home invasion. This is the most stylistically competent component of "Freaky Tales," as it transforms effortlessly into an impossibly cool martial arts film.

Oftentimes, the success or failure of an anthology film has at least something to do with how well the different stories gel with one another. In "Freaky Tales," the overarching theme is one of an underdog story. From punks choosing to confront the aggressive, violent neo-Nazis who have much more experience fighting to a rap battle that pits two amateur artists against an established celebrity, we are continually watching scrappy upstarts find ways to beat the odds. And it doesn't stop there.

Though Pedro Pascal's Clint is an established enforcer, he too is up against a seemingly insurmountable challenge, as his debts force him to continue working for dubious forces after he wants nothing more than to retire peacefully with his growing family. The playoff game between the Oakland Warriors and the all-star Los Angeles Lakers surfaces in the background of each of the stories, with most of the characters believing that the Warriors are out of their league and will quickly be eliminated. In a lot of ways, the battle of the underdog is a metaphor for the city of Oakland itself, especially during the late 1980s.

There's plenty to like about "Freaky Tales," from its playful visual aesthetics and nods to older anthology films like "Creepshow" and "Tales from the Hood." Still, it struggles with some pacing issues, as the first two stories can be occasionally superficial, and "Born to Mack" has a tendency to drag — it's only with "The Legend of Sleepy Floyd" that the film really hits a rhythm. These issues aside, "Freaky Tales" is an incredibly likable cinematic exercise from Bay Area directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, who, after helming "Captain Marvel" in 2019, were clearly interested in tackling a more personal and intimate project.

"Freaky Tales" premiered on January 18 at the Sundance Film Festival.