Freeway
Dir. Matthew Bright
When Vanessa witnesses her mother and stepfather being hauled off to jail on drugs and prostitution charges, the teenage tearaway goes on the run from a social worker who wants to put her into care. She sets off to seek sanctuary at her grandmother's house. Along the way however, she encounters a sadistic serial killer who she discovers has been preying on vulnerable young women on the freeway…
Matthew Bright’s cult indie hit Freeway is a thoroughly twisted take on the tale of 'Little Red Riding Hood’; a tale that has consistently proved it is ripe for reinterpretation time and again. Much like the original tale not just being a story about a girl eaten by a wolf (it’s actually a rite of passage story warning young women of the dangers of rape), Bright’s take isn’t just the tale of a girl who has a terrifying encounter with a serial killer – it actually unravels as a damning indictment of the US justice system and its inhumane treatment of the young people caught up in it.
The film opens with cartoon images of girls being chased around by a wolf as Danny Elfman’s deranged and discordant theme music sets the twisted tone. Strings trickle, guitars snarl, female vocals coo, and drums crash, creating a wildly off-kilter and exciting tone that smashes throughout the ensuing film. Transporting the folk tale of Red Riding Hood to a contemporary inner city setting actually works really well. Even the sight of Vanessa (Reese Witherspoon) fleeing her home with her few belongings in a wicker basket and sporting a red leather jacket doesn’t feel contrived. The Red Riding Hood motif is offered throughout the film in glimpses of cartoons on TV sets, knowing slices of dialogue and clever use of metaphor.
As Vanessa, Reese Witherspoon excels as the illiterate but world-wise, street-smart young woman, raised by her dysfunctional mother and abusive, sleazy step-father. She’s never portrayed as a victim, and yet while she appears tough and impenetrable, there are moments when it is obvious she is just a young girl alone in the world. At heart she is good and honourable, and even though she has spent much of her life ‘straying off the path’ and onto the wrong side of the law, she displays a code of wisdom, ethics and morals that belie her years. There are moments when we see how vulnerable she is and Bright sometimes frames her in ways that highlight her diminutive stature, reminding us that while she's capable and tough, she is still a kid. Bright's screenplay works to convey that, while Vanessa has a troubled past and leads a volatile existence, it isn’t her fault – it's important to consider the circumstances, like her family life, the education system, and the impact these have had upon her. When she talks about her past, it doesn’t sound good; it is littered with abuse, prior charges and arrests. It would be easy to judge her, but because we’ve spent a great deal of the film’s running time with her (well, all of it actually – Witherspoon carries this film), we’ve been privy to who she really is: a resilient young woman who has had to grow up fast and be self-reliant. She believes that going to live with her grandmother can offer a fresh start and much needed security. She’s had a hard life so far, but she is basically good and she's not yet ready to give up. And the audience is right there with her, rooting for her.
The script is peppered with quirky, quotable one-liners, most of which are uttered by Witherspoon, who defiantly spits the likes of “Get your goddamn hands off of my anatomy” with aplomb. Freeway also exhibits a vague Wes Craven-esque idea of generational conflict throughout. Children are depicted as being at the mercy of care(less)-homes, predatory authority figures (and parental figures like her stepfather), ineffectual social workers and sadistic wardens. It’s a fairy tale malaise that constantly presents Vanessa with situations in which she has to fend for herself and rely on her own resourcefulness.
The centrepiece of the film is the prolonged, progressively sinister scenes when Vanessa is quizzed by Bob (Kiefer Sutherland) – a ‘child psychologist’ - who gives her a lift when her car breaks down. Creepy, voyeuristic shots and predatory glances are sprinkled like breadcrumbs throughout these scenes, heightening tension. Pulling onto the hard shoulder, we see what he sees through his wing mirror as he quietly reverses back along the road: Vanessa bending over the hood of her car inspecting the engine. It’s chilling in its simple implication. Of course, we know that he is the serial killer mentioned in various news broadcasts, but Bright takes his time to build tension and menace around the unveiling of this revelation. Bob’s initial ‘concern’ for Vanessa, and mild-mannered questions are laced with double meaning (these scenes prove even more effective when viewed again), gradually become more menacing and obviously sinister as he gains her trust. Kiefer Sutherland is cool and creepy without descending into hamminess or knowing irony. His serial killer is calculating, cold and sadistic, completely at odds with how he looks to the wider world. When Vanessa disfigures him she essentially exposes his inner corruption for all the world to see, exposing the unseen monster he really is.
As Vanessa’s mother, Amanda Plummer delivers a typically unhinged performance, and still manages to evoke sympathy. Brooke Shields also manages to lend her character, Bob’s loyal and highly conservative wife, real pathos when she discovers her whole marriage has been a sham. It is genuinely sad and chilling when she finds out about her husband and his history. No mean feat given the Right-Wing, fundamentalist, pro-death penalty sentiments she espouses throughout the film. Another little highlight is the appearance of Brittany Murphy, who had a small role in this early on in her career. She plays the spaced out Rhonda who is prone to stashing drugs in her ‘cooch.’
While there are moments that are genuinely disturbing, and the actual subject matter could have been as unsavoury and exploitative as it sounds, Freeway is actually a hilarious, subversive and supremely dark comedy with a big ol' heart, and a fantastic Reese Witherspoon at its centre. It also manages to raise some pretty important questions about our perceptions of troubled youths, and of their treatment within the justice system.
