Fantasia Review: Dance Freak Is Utterly Irreverent Nonsense, Beautifully Presented

      What if two members of Baltimore’s Wham City Comedy experimented with drugs and time travel, immersing themselves in the lo-fi, experimental underground cinema era of Maya Deren to create a surreal and absurd take on the Ship of Theseus paradox? This narrative centers on a downtrodden individual who has a meltdown after his girlfriend leaves him, realizing that he cannot escape the self-destructive patterns that have governed his life—even after transforming into a mesmerizing, gyrating creature.

      The result is Robby Rackleff (who also writes and edits) and Alan Resnick (who also shoots, edits, and collaborates on special effects with Eris Deo) presenting Dance Freak. This 100-minute film is filled with irreverent absurdity presented in a striking visual format that employs what looks like retro compositing, direct animation, and mind-bending transitions, alongside gnarly distortions, repurposed glue guns, and a skin suit that serves as both a prison and a dwelling.

      I would be dishonest if I didn't admit that those one hundred minutes felt like an eternity, as the flashing visuals and prolonged gags tested my patience. If someone were to doze off, they wouldn’t miss much during those moments—there's rarely anything of significance occurring. The dialogue often feels like it’s taken from cringeworthy comedy sketches, with characters obsessing over a political figure, expressing posthumous affection for a mentor, and vicariously enjoying someone else’s past game show appearance.

      We are introduced to Obie (Rackleff) as he awkwardly navigates a birdhouse hobbyist class before rushing across town to meet Dorty (Megan Koester). Through a dreamlike collage of memories, we discover his abandonment issues and his attempts to bring joy into his life through routine rather than genuine fun, revealing how terrified he is when confronted by some of the town's more unsavory inhabitants.

      The film features a plethora of alternative comedy personalities, from Bad Prostitute (Rachel Kaly from Jury Duty: Company Retreat) and her Upset Man pimp (Nate Varrone from Never Change!) to a trio of Salad Boys that includes Sarah Sherman from Saturday Night Live. They bother Obie, furthering his despair and perfectly setting him up to receive Dorty’s “let’s be friends” line, which inexplicably introduces the titular Dance Freak (also portrayed by Rackleff).

      His dance moves are captivating, reminiscent of Elaine Benes but evoking a trance instead of revulsion. He dances not just for the love of music but also because it makes it easier to eliminate his victims. Whether the dance itself dissolves their insides or he crushes their faces (depending on how one interprets the on-screen “reality”), the link between this monster and Obie is undeniable.

      Then comes the police (David Rhodus’ Det. Arsonist and Jamel Johnson’s Det. Gittit), a sympathetic scientist (Sheila Mears’ Dr. Dilly Gorgul, a name you won’t forget since it’s superimposed onto the film three times despite no other names being shown), and a confrontational boss (Stavros Halkias’ Megaman) for Obie to handle and for Dance Freak to pursue. Are they the same individual or doppelgängers? Perhaps both?

      Rackleff and Resnick march to the rhythm of their own vision, paying tribute to avant-garde cinema while also poking fun at it. Although the plot is chaotic and the characters cartoonish, there's a genuine emotional thread in Obie's quest to understand who he is and what he can give to his loved ones—even if the best course of action might be to remove himself from their lives.

      But hold on. Wasn’t this whole affair supposed to be a failed science experiment? You know, involving parallel dimensions and such? (This line is always humorously met with silence before resuming conversation as if the comment was never made.) Sure, you could entertain that idea. Perhaps Gorgul plays a crucial role in the narrative and isn’t just another element to help Obie look beyond the “nice guy” façade he desperately wants others to accept. Why not?

      This project was reportedly crowdfunded three and a half years ago (the list of backers is as dizzying as the film, with some names appearing multiple times) and made on a $40,000 budget, with double the number of pickup days compared to actual shooting days. While all that time may not have resulted in clarity, it certainly created an impressive aesthetic. Would I watch it again? No. Should you give it a watch once? Only if you're ready to question whether you’ve experienced a stroke.

      Dance Freak premiered at the 2026 Fantasia International Film Festival.