The Winnipeg-born special effects artist, writer and director Steven Kostanski wants to freak you out with his and his team’s newest project, Frankie Freako (released in theatres on Oct. 4) — and he knows exactly how to do it.
Kostanski is a veteran of freaky prosthetic wounds and fake goo, famous for his work on several popular films and shows including Star Trek: Discovery (2017), Hannibal (2013) and IT (2017). He also directed Manborg (2011), The Void (2016) and Psycho Goreman (2020). Kostanski’s specialty is producing zany practical effects and indie films shot in the style of campy horror-sometimes-comedies. Think Ghoulies (1984), Little Monsters (1989), Troll 2 (1990) or Basket Case (1982). If that sounds like your can of Fart Soda, then Frankie Freako is 80 minutes of hammy fun.
The story follows hapless square Conor (performed phenomenally by Conor Sweeney) as his placid yuppie lifestyle is upended by insecurity. He’s cajoled into shredding “tweaked” documents after existentially failing to present a quarterly meeting by his doofy manager Mr. Buechler (played by Kostanski-film-alumni Adam Brooks). Following this, Conor is subsequently abandoned for the weekend by his beloved gun wife Kristina (the talented Kristy Wordsworth). Facing two lonely days of daytime TV and guarding Kristina’s statues, Conor fixates on a sleazy commercial for a party hotline run by a thumb-looking goblin named Frankie Freako. Frankie’s hog-era leather jacket and elegant face spikes overpower little Conor into calling the hotline, and it changes his life—and house—forever.
Kostanski’s films feel, both technically and emotionally, as if he ripped them straight from the late 1980s. The film resolution is nostalgically soft, the sound effects are crisp and the set design evokes the blondie-epoch of upper-middle class Canada. No detail is spared from the dirty ballet slipper walls, gaudy mantlepiece portrait and the glycerin dripping liberally off the puppet’s creased grins. Kostanki’s work is fueled by a deep love for horror and the practical effects that came to define it in his childhood. Each strange frame is affectionately filled with with referential details (like a “gremlin” in the driveway) and sight jokes (like a perfectly mismatched stunt wig or pizza nailed to a wall) that vividly evoke the Gremlins (1984) and Dead Alive (1992) era of freaky puppetry and magically tactile practical effects.
This passion and intimate knowledge of his source material allows Kostanski to stand on the shoulders of giants when messing with typical genre conventions. Frankie Freako is going to freak you out, but not in the ways you’ll expect.
Freako has so much confidence in its wild premise and rapturously gonzo energy that it transcends the need to unthinkingly import every 1980s film trope. A refreshing self-awareness permeates the script and the characters performing it, and the dialogue is spoken with a hokey frankness that winks at the audience, explicitly signaling Kostanski and his crew’s production ethos: “Remember this stuff? We do, we love it and we want you to love it too!”
Visual and auditory details, like the tasty click of a tape cassette button or Mr. Buechler’s rat tail and goon sweater, visually link the past with the present. Even though the film is canonically set in the 1980s, the pace and focus on the inner world of the story fold the setting into a shape where silly fun can be had. Glimpses of deviance from previous Regan-era puppet horror, like President Munch’s taste in concubines and an egalitarian frankness about sex, feel natural and unremarked upon as they allow Kostanski more time to pour steamy puppet goo directly into our retinas.
Having absurd, balls-to-the-wall fun is what Kostanski and Frankie Freako are all about. Go into this horror comedy with an open heart and a greasy pizza while you brace for light gore and a euphorically bizarre ending that will leave you saying “Shaba doo, Freakos.”
