About "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) (Directed by Irena Curik)
The world of experimental or avant-garde cinema, much like narrative films, has a rich history. Narrative film developed based on cinematic grammar (shots, reverse shots, points of view, etc.), whereas avant-garde cinema emerged from the ruins of World War I in 1920s Europe, placing self-awareness at its core. Visual artists and writers sought to mock conventional narrative elements such as plot, character, and setting, which they viewed as restrictive. These artists believed that the goal of narrative films was to interpret life in time, yet they saw such films as nothing more than bad imitations. They also challenged the notion that there was only one way to make a film.
From its very first shots, "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) signals that we are not faced with a conventional film. While narrative cinema typically begins by introducing elements that bridge the audience’s understanding with the world of the film, here, the film’s introduction leads instead to confusion. There is no intention of establishing a clear sense of place, nor of familiarizing us with a character or even a central theme. On the contrary, any sense of coherence or unity in environment and character is avoided, as much as possible. The documentary-like images that open the film reflect the filmmaker’s deliberate refusal to clarify things or provide explicit meanings. We find ourselves asking: Where are we? What is the relationship between these people? What connection exists between the woman staring at the camera, the shot of a concert hall, and another shot of a boy in a dark alley? And why are these images placed next to each other in quick succession, without any explanatory shots in-between them?
What soon captivates the viewer is the sheer variety of shots, locations, and characters, as well as the filmmaker’s creativity in constructing unique situations. She films her characters with such precision, and the editing process assembles these striking images so seamlessly, that the film establishes a distinct tone and language. This language is embedded in every fast cut and every sudden leap across time and space. It’s important to note that the director, Irena Čurik, not only understands how to build atmosphere through shot transitions but also constructs her narrative step by step through these very transitions—a narrative which replaces traditional storytelling. Here, dialogue and stable character identities do not aid our understanding. We are not meant to trace conventional personal or artistic motivations behind every action. Instead, the film invites us to engage with its world through the diversity of its shots, the fluid movement across places and times, and, above all, the meticulous editing that gives these images their meaning.
Irena Curik is not only aware of how each shot influences the next but also understands how the duration of a single shot can alter the meaning of the next ones that follow. Consider, for example, the shot of a boy standing between two trees as cars pass in the background. The extended duration of this shot, longer than the preceding ones, disrupts the film’s rhythm, creating a sense of warning. It’s as if the filmmaker, by breaking this rhythm, is urging us to pay special attention to this particular frame. In this experimental feature-length documentary—which at times feels highly narrative—the fundamental unit of measurement is not the sequence but the shot itself. The film consists of hundreds of self-contained shots that feel complete on their own, yet in relation to one another, they acquire complementary functions, adding layers of meaning to the images that surround them.
The sense of freedom, lightness, and unburdened existence in "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) is beautifully woven throughout the film. The characters, wandering through mostly remote locations, seem to extend their own sense of liberation into their surroundings. Despite never introducing themselves to the camera, they feel strangely familiar to the viewer. This same sense of freedom is reflected in the film’s visual style. The filmmaker, without binding to a rigid shooting structure, immerses us in a vast world of experimentation with cinematic techniques. A scene may begin with a static shot on a tripod, followed by a handheld shot with the natural shakiness of an unsteady camera, and even the transition itself—when the camera is physically lifted off the tripod—is left in the final cut. In this way, the film not only features unrestrained characters but also refuses to confine its visual style to any single framework.
In many experimental films, even the most adventurous filmmakers recognize that they cannot abandon every cinematic convention entirely; some rules must still be acknowledged and followed. However, "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) presents us with a filmmaker who understands that if they cease this tireless exploration for even a moment, not just the rhythm but the entire film risks collapse. This sense of freedom extends even to the color variations in the background of the subtitles, reinforcing the refusal to adhere to strict formal constraints.
Despite being deeply experimental, "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) demonstrates a keen awareness of how to make the most of its material. Many shots consist of simple static frames of locations, while others show people in various situations. Yet, the filmmaker instinctively knows when to incorporate music and how to extract the precise emotional impact it seeks from it. It’s worth noting that music is typically a tool of narrative cinema, yet "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) integrates music into its fabric in such a way that it never feels like a conventional narrative film.
To say that "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) is not a narrative film does not mean it lacks a narrative. On the contrary, it is an engrossing and compelling work that holds the viewer’s attention to the very end. However, its storytelling approach differs from conventional films. It introduces its characters in an entirely indirect manner, familiarizes us with its environment gradually, in fragments, over time, and carefully constructs its path with patience and precision. In such a deliberately crafted structure, the role of music is carefully positioned to serve a controlled and specific function.
If you enjoy films that challenge the viewer to think, that do not hand over their meaning, themes, and messages on a silver platter, and that strive to reflect the complexities of the human spirit, "The Freaquency" (a frequency of freaks) is the film you must watch. It is a meticulously directed work, filled with intricate details that reveal themselves even more upon repeat viewings.
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