When it comes to the freak and fantasy of the 90s, everything was fair play — including the innocence of youth. Who would’ve thought hopscotch would become such a game of chance? The song itself is a rebel yell for those hoping to get out of the monotony of life, feeling enclosed in a space you’ve been carved into. “Freak On A Leash” certainly isn’t the type of song you play when you’re content with the complacency of your existence, but it also raises the question: how do we set ourselves free?
For the young animated girl in this clip, it’s by throwing her bracelet in the air, waiting to find out where it lands and taking the furtive steps to the edge of the proverbial (and in this instance, literal) cliff. Your standard Rent-A-Cop shows up, shocked and almost disgusted to find the kids reveling in the heart-pounding danger of skipping along a crumbling slope, only for him to lose his footing and his gun to go off. The bullet crashes through the grimy animation into the so-called real world, where everyone’s just going about in their mundane existences, and finds itself a serpent, bending and swaying to the staccato pulse of lead singer Jonathan Davis’s voice. This seems to be one of many bullets that have clipped their way into the band’s performance space — a piece of dark matter stretched and spotted through with the chances and life-threatening whims of those trying to escape their own state of nonplussed ennui.
What happens to us when the bullet makes its way back through our serenity? Spawn creator/animator and director of this warped comic book story Todd McFarlane grabs you by the arms, almost dislodging your shoulders, and dares you to take a chance.