Freaky (2020) is goriously fun, and one helluva acting showcase for Vince Vaughn.
Freaky (2020) Synopsis
The Blissfield Butcher. An uncaught, relentless slasher that has become the stuff of frightening urban legends. What carnage is he going to wreak after stealing an ancient dagger during a murder spree? And what record would his kill count soar to after he switches body with an unassuming and badly bullied high school girl?
I love slasher movies.
Yeah, it’s a clear sign of how badly I’m in need of therapy. I love slasher movies to bits and I consider them, well, part of my teenage-hood.
This love, in turn, results in me having certain stringent criteria when assessing any slasher film. Firstly, I strongly believe none should ever take itself too seriously; the failure of which would be overly gloomy productions like the 2009 Friday the 13th reboot.
There should never be too much story too, esp sympathetic backstories. After all, when a slasher’s motive is painstakingly investigated, the fear and horror go away, yes?
As far as these criteria are concerned, I think Blumhouse’s Freaky scores high, positively a valedictorian in many aspects. The OTP kills and the open homages aside, Freaky absolutely revels in its own hysteria. In other words, it doesn’t seek to reinvent or re-explore anything. It’s all about celebrating the best, or should I say, the most atrocious aspects of the genre.
There’s also, of course, the wickedly enjoyable performances by Kathryn Newton, Vince Vaughn, and practically all of the cast. Vaughn’s awkward efforts at being a teenage girl sometimes come across as overstretched, but that itself could be a joy to watch too. Can I share that I really love the way his Millie savours all that newfound strength and girth? (Girth with double meanings here)
A seriously fun movie, this is. And a naughty one for the way it pokes at a naughty genre.
Before I end, a mild spoiler. Those who got slaughtered in this gorefest were uniformly obnoxious, horny, or deserving, and so there’s no grim horror for viewers. As wrong as that might sound by today’s standards, I think there is no truer tribute to those blood-soaked 80s classics that I so love.