A
six-legged, two-headed turtle called Cheech and Chong suns
itself on a table outside 909 Ocean Front Walk on California’s
Venice Beach.
Showman Todd Ray – armed with a microphone and the gift of the
gab – cranks up his pitch in a southern drawl: “Folks, inside
we’ve got 60 of the strangest creatures on Earth! We’ve got 10
animals with two heads: alive! You’re gonna see the two-headed
chicken, the two-headed pig, and the two-headed snake: alive!
Just five dollars!” Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Venice
Beach Freakshow.
Since the circus had its heyday in the 19th and 20th century,
freak shows have been in decline. Political correctness in US
culture, which began in the late 1960s, made people feel
uncomfortable for staring at freaks, and television removed the
need for them to get off the sofa to gawk at weirdos.
But Todd Ray, with his extra-limbed animals and performers that
include a torture-proof man, a contortionist, and a tattooed
terror, is bringing back the shock and awe. “Some mothers of the
children around here don’t understand the power of wonder,” says
Todd. “But we’ve moved and grown as human beings though
curiosity.”
Before setting up his show, 43-year-old Todd, from South
Carolina, was a top music producer in New York, working with
artists such as Mick Jagger, Helmet, Santana and the Beastie
Boys. He also discovered Jack Johnson.
But after earning three Grammys during a 20-year career, he
became frustrated with record company politics. “I got sick of
the business,” he says. And with money in his pocket, it was
time to do something else…
The idea for his new venture hit him after he’d moved to Los
Angeles in the late 1990s. He was strolling down Venice Beach
when he remembered his childhood love for sideshows. When
developer Abbot Kinney established the beach, just over 100
years ago, it was littered with them. “That vibe left Venice and
I wanted it back,” Todd explains.
At age six, Todd started doing magic tricks, and never missed a
visiting carnival or circus. “I loved it. I had to slide under
the tent to see what was there,” he says.
A performer called Otis Jordan, ‘The Human Cigarette Factory’,
left the strongest impression. He’d been born with deformed arms
and legs, and used his chin and tongue to roll and light
cigarettes.
“I didn’t want to leave his tent after the show,” remembers
Todd. “When I went to talk to Otis, he said: ‘Remember, anything
in life is possible. All dreams can come true. If I can do what
I do in my condition, you can do anything you dream of.’ I never
forgot him.”
Since Todd’s show got going in 2006, Leonardo DiCaprio, Bill
Murray, and Motley Crüe’s Nikki Sixx and Andy Dick have passed
through, helping to turn it into the number one attraction at
Venice Beach.
Being a showman has also made Todd feel like more of a freak
himself. White guys with dreadlocks trail past the seafront
toking on bongs, but all he sees is a sea of sameness. “If I’m a
freak,” he said, “it’s because I refuse to be normal, to be the
same.”
Wearing a black Venice Beach Freakshow T-shirt, and thick
sunscreen on his face, Todd invites passers by to check out
Cheech And Chong. Next to them, shaded under a parasol, on a bed
of nails, with a dollar bill stapled to his bare belly, Kurt the
Pain Proof Man is casually reading Cormac McCarthy’s
post-apocalyptic novel, The Road.
Todd’s newest recruit, Brianna Belladonna, gobbles down fire in
the 27-degree heat, while his 14-year-old son and business
partner Phoenix, takes the cash.
Bug-eyed children climb the stairs to the entrance, greeted by
Rocky, a five-legged mini Doberman Pinscher, and Todd’s wife,
Danielle – affectionately known as ‘Freakshow Mama’.
Rounding out the family’s involvement in the business is Todd’s
17-year-old daughter, Asia. Before her dad opened the Freakshow,
she didn’t know what one was. Now, she’s a contortionist named
Lady Twist The Rubber Girl, a fire-eater, and Electra The
Electric Lady, a human power conductor who lights up bulbs. “I
learn my tricks from the other performers,” she says. “It’s a
fun job. Most kids just work at the mall, but I’m learning to
walk on glass, and I might start swallowing swords.”
Danielle’s proud of the family’s achievements, but she was
nervous about Todd’s m (£700,000) venture at first. “I thought
he was out of his mind,” she admits. “But now I think he’s a
genius. I love working with the whole family. It keeps us tight
and we have fun memories.”
Memories of sideshows past haunt the Freakshow’s displays, and
it’s like a museum inside. Handcrafted cabinets show off
multi-limbed, multi-headed, and one-eyed specimens preserved in
jars. Todd has bargained with retired showmen, and scoured eBay
for his sideshow memorabilia, which spans 150 years.
But before visitors get the chance to look at the collection,
they’re treated to a live performance. Red and yellow carnival
lights zip across the walls, heralding Digger The Sadu Hobo,
from Tain in Scotland. Dressed in a raggedy kilt, he kicks
things off by hammering through one of his nostrils – which he
soon follows with a power drill.
Brianna Belladonna steps up next – diving barefoot off a stool
into shards of broken glass, grinning. Then it’s time for fun
with a staple gun. Digger asks the audience to attach a dollar
bill to his stomach, or a twenty to his forehead. But there are
no high rollers.
There are 20 shows a day, each lasting for 15 minutes. In the
early 1990s, Jim Rose shocked audiences by bringing new twists
to old stunts at rock’n’roll shows – capturing a young audience
that’d never seen anything like it. Since then, both self-made
freaks like the Lizardman – who has scales tattooed all over his
body and a forked tongue – and born freaks like the one-legged
acrobat Jackie The Human Tripod, have found success touring with
a handful of shows at state fairs and nightclubs.
Todd doesn’t have any trouble getting new acts in. “So far I’ve
just met the right people who’ve been into it,” he says. “If
anything, it’s like the universe just lined us up.”
But swimming, slithering attractions, don’t just land in his
lap, and Todd’s travelled the world to amass his collection of
curious creatures, which he keeps in a circus wagon created by a
set designer for Tim Burton.
Todd’s two-headed Arizona King snake, Laverne and Shirley, is a
showstopper, but he’s most excited about his conjoined-twin
turtles. One – which came from an exotic dealer in Florida – is
named after the human twins Daisy and Violet Hilton, who toured
the vaudeville circuit in the 1930s. The turtle’s stomachs are
connected, and they have two shells and eight legs. “Don’t they
float beautifully?” Todd marvels, as they paddle along on their
side, craning their necks to stay above water.
Most of Todd’s curiosities were found on internet forums, then
flown on animal-friendly planes, but his prize turtle – Myrtle,
Squirtle, and Thirdle – was flown from Peru in a container on
his lap, hidden from the cabin crew. Possibly the only living
triple-headed creature in the world, fully-formed Myrtle and
Squirtle eat enough to support the underdeveloped Thirdle.
They’re living longer than expected, “but you gotta know how to
take care of an animal like this,” he explains.
Taster attraction Cheech and Chong are difficult to keep because
they have strong individual identities. “They have different
personalities and want to go in separate ways,” he explains.
“Quite often, they end up in a battle over where to go, flip
over, and then can’t flip themselves back.”
But the toughest animal Todd’s had to deal with is Rocky, the
five-legged pooch. After being adopted from a Mississippi dog
pound, Rocky was so vicious that he sunk his teeth into most of
the family in violent attacks. Desperate to tame him, Todd
turned to Cesar Millan, better known as ‘The Dog Whisperer’ on
the National Geographic channel. The program was filming in the
area, so Todd tracked down the producers to share his story.
Cesar isn’t told about the animals before he works with them, so
meeting his first five-legged friend, and all of his two-headed
companions, was a shock. Todd doesn’t know what Cesar whispered
into Rocky’s ear, but it worked. “He’s been a great dog since
and hasn’t bitten anyone – he hasn’t even tried,” he claims.
Todd’s hunt for special animals continues, and his most coveted
creature is a two-headed pit bull – there’s a brand new Range
Rover for the person who can deliver one. “It’s gotta be alive,”
Todd says. “That’s my ultimate dream – to stand in front of the
Freakshow, say nothing, but have a two-headed, fully-grown pit
bull on a chain.”
We hope his wish comes true. The Freakshow is a passion and an
obsession Todd wouldn’t give up for anything. “I stood on stage
when Santana won the Grammy for Album of the Year in 1999, but
that feeling is nothing compared to the look in a child’s eye
when I show them a two-headed animal,” he says. “Their eyes open
so big and their smile widens. That’s the magic.”
Text: Marc Hartzman / Photos: Max Dolberg June 2010 Bizarre Magazine