Director Report Card: Matthew Bright (1996)

How do you go from being an up-and-coming cult movie auteur, a name destined to be spoken of in hushed tones by weirdo film nerds, to having absolutely no cinematic career at all? This is the question I've always had about Matthew Bright, who busted onto the scene in 1996 with the explosive “Freeway.” It turns out, one disastrous failure is all you need to torpedo a promising career. Yet I've always wondered if Bright didn't deserve a second look. As I watch my way through his four features, I'll attempt to assess what went right and what went wrong.

1. Freeway

Matthew Bright owes his career to Oingo Boingo. A close childhood friend of Richard and Danny Elfman, Bright would be a founding member of the iconic New Wave band. This was during its even weirder early days as a performance art collective called the Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo. This is how Bright came to work on “Forbidden Zone,” the group's exceedingly bizarre 1980 midnight movie extravaganza. Clearly, Bright caught the movie-making bug around that time. He'd go on to write five more features – including two low-budget horror films directed by Richard Elfman – before trying his hand at directing as well. Bright's behind-the-camera debut would carry on the demented style apparent in “Forbidden Zone,” reflecting the filmmaker's twisted sensibilities. And thus, “Freeway” would come into the world.

Teenage Vanessa's hard life is about to get much worst. Her mom is a prostitute. Her stepdad is a pervert. Both get arrested when the cop shows up. Rather than go back into foster care, she steals her parole officer's car. She decides to run off to the home of a grandmother she's never met. After the car breaks down, she is picked up by a seemingly benevolent man named Bob... Yet Bob is a wolf in sheep's clothing, as he's the sex lunatic that's been hacking up young girls on the freeway. Vanessa defends herself, shooting Bob in self-defense. He lives though, convinces the cops of his innocence, and gets Vanessa sent to jail. Yet Vanessa isn't done trying to get to her grandmother's house. And she hasn't had her last run-in with Bob either.

“Freeway” begins with underground comix style illustrations of Little Red Riding Hood, rendered as a big-eyed sex-pot in revealing outfits, being harassed by Tex Avery-style Big Bad Wolves. This make the film's intentions obvious from the very beginning. “Freeway” is a grindhouse style retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood story. Our young female protagonist still has the ultimate goal of making it to her grandmother's house. She even carries the childish image of a basket, loaded with blankets, in several scenes. Yet Vanessa is no virginal young maiden. She's a foul-mouthed delinquent prone to violent outbursts. The Big Bad Wolf is reinterpreted as a sexually sadistic serial killer, who pretends to help young girls before killing and violating them. If you didn't catch the metaphor already, Bob's last name is “Wolverton.” “Freeway” takes a twisted path to the iconic image of the Wolf in Grandma's clothes, slowly revealing his teeth, with a lot of sex, violence, profanity, and drugs along the way.

“Freeway” takes its exploitation inspiration to heart. This is a gloriously sleazy movie, which is evident in its main characters. There's really no description for Vanessa and her family other than “white trash.” Her mother is a literal crack whore, trying to pick up johns to support her habit. Her stepfather is a disgusting sleaze who is molesting Vanessa. The film is packed front-to-back with profanity, to the point where Vanessa cussing Bob out in the courtroom is only the most obvious moment of colorful swearing. The depiction of low-income and criminal life is clearly played for twisted laughs at various points. When Vanessa's most murderous action is contrasted with a cartoonish shooting star, or a limping classmate of her's shoves her camel toe directly into the camera, we are obviously meant to laugh. These are grotesque caricatures of real life trailer park residents, exaggerated even further for our amusement.

As much as “Freeway” luxuriates in the trashiness of its world, it ultimately takes Vanessa's plight totally seriously. The opening scene depicts her struggling to pronounce a third-grade level word, proving she’s functionally illiterate and probably has a severe learning disability. Her upbringing, where she was ignored by a drug addict mother and abused by a monstrous stepfather, has left her with few opportunities in life. When she's in court, it doesn't matter what the truth is. Of course the system is going to convict the foul-mouthed teenage delinquent with a history of violence. The characters are "trash," in the sense that they've been discarded by everyone around them with little care or thought. "Freeway" functions as an outrageous midnight movie experience but it has nothing for sympathy for its damaged, disaffected protagonist. 

That Vanessa turns to violence to defend herself is unsurprising. She lives in a world of violence. Her boyfriend, one of the few people who seems to actually care about her, is murdered in a drive-by shooting early in the film. Vanessa's always been used and abused by those around her. She continues to be victimized throughout the story, by a psychopath like Bob and the predatory prison system. "Freeway" is an underground comix version of our reality but the point it's making is true: Young girls are preyed upon by the world, surrounded by figures that equally desire them and want to destroy them. The Brothers Grimm said this in the 17th century and it was just as true when "Freeway" was made in the mid-nineties. When Vanessa uses the tools of her oppressors to fight back, when posing as a prostitute to steal a john's car or during her final confrontation with Bob, it can't help but come off as cathartic. The prey has become the predator and, in "Freeway's" twisted world (and frequently our own), that's the closest thing to justice that can actually exist. 

I think this does, in a roundabout kind of way, make "Freeway" a feminist film. But don't mistake the movie for a high-minded act of system-shaking transgression. This was designed to be a cult movie, filled with the kind of outrageous bad behavior tailor-made to make rowdy audiences whoop and cheer. There's an obscene poetry of sorts to the frequently profane dialogue. The subplot involving Bob's wife resolves itself in an especially lurid fashion. Bob's inward evil soon outwardly manifests itself in a grotesque facial deformity, which slowly builds towards the frenzied, violent, outrageous ending. Probably the most indefensible moment involves Vanessa unleashing a flurry of racial slurs against a black detective. Moments like this remind you that “Freeway” is, philosophically anyway, basically a Troma movie with a bigger budget. 

“Freeway” most blatantly pays homage to its grindhouse roots in a long section, where Vanessa is incarcerated. Yes, “Freeway” includes a mini “women in prison” flick in the middle of its runtime. It includes many of the expected beats of this genre. Vanessa has to assert herself against the prison block queen bitch by beating her up. She has a clingy, lesbian bunk mate. She carves a shiv out of a toothbrush and, of course, there's a daring, bloody escape. “Freeway” honestly handles this material with a little more sensitivity than you'd expect. There's no communal shower and the other prisoners are surprisingly humanized. Yet it's another way the film expresses its outrageous, gleefully sleazy soul. 

Perhaps what truly elevates “Freeway” and makes it not just a fun exploitation movie but also a compelling thriller is its two central performances. Reese Witherspoon, after “The Man in the Moon” but before “Fear,” stars as Vanessa. Witherspoon does an excellent job of balancing two key components of the character. She is vulnerable, as a young girl in a world full of danger, yet she is driven by an indomitable will. Once Vanessa starts fighting, she doesn't quit and her tactics are brutal. Witherspoon's ability to make Vanessa both a scared young girl – apparent in the moment she hears her boyfriend is dead – and a ruthless survivor creates an unforgettable protagonist. “Freeway” wouldn't have worked without such a believable, charismatic heroine. (Her Texas accent is pretty good too.)

Starring opposite Witherspoon, and probably the biggest name in the film at the time, is Kiefer Sutherland. Sutherland's performance has a dual quality too. Bob has to appear kind and sympathetic towards Vanessa's plight at first, before eventually revealing his evil intentions. The moment that happens, when a line of questioning turns from helpful to predatory, Kiefer puts on an evil grin. The Good Samaritan act is a mask to cover up a completely sadistic son-of-a-bitch. Once that slips, Sutherland truly revels in playing this evil bastard. Even when behind heavy make-up in the last act, his wolf smile permanently etched onto his face, he oozes sinister intent and despicable pleasure for his evil acts. Truly the line “That's not all I did to your grandma” could not be more disgustingly delivered by anyone else.

The supporting cast is game too, with some actors seeming in on the joke and others playing it totally straight. Amanda Plummer appears in the very Amanda-Plummer-like role of Vanessa's mother. Plummer carries the desperate quality you'd expect from a woman in this situation, as exaggerated as the movie around her. Brooke Shields appears as Bob's wife, totally clueless about her husband's nocturnal activities. Shields hams it up as a caricature of a persecuted rich white woman and it's hilarious. Dan Hedaya, meanwhile, goes the opposite direction as the detective investigating Vanessa's case. He plays a typical Hedaya cop character, with some attitude but mostly seeming unaware of the kind of movie he's in. That makes for a nice contrast.

“Freeway” is a film with a clear narrative aesthetic. It knows exactly what kind of darkly comedic, utterly twisted, strangely subversive story it's telling. This continues over into the film's cinematography. Bright's direction varies between two modes. Sometimes, the film's visual construction is gritty and intimate. Some scenes feature a handheld style, such as when Vanessa and Chopper meet for the last time. Other moments are carefully framed and tightly edited, seen in Vanessa and Bob's conversation in his car. Occasionally, there's bursts of surrealism too. Like during Vanessa's dreams about her grandmother's house, which looks right out of “Forbidden Zone.” It's more subtle than it sounds and shows an assured hand behind the camera. 

Considering the two are friends, it's unsurprising that Danny Elfman stepped in to provide the score for “Freeway.” Elfman fuses some of his audio trademarks, such as willowy choirs of “la-la”-ing kids and whimsical percussion, with a more discordant sound. Persistent strings are a common presence in the soundtrack. This also includes some hard-edged shrieking rock guitars, with a few moments even veering towards a heavy metal or punk rock sound. This immediately establishes “Freeway's” world as one with childish elements but perverse danger lurking around every corner. That dissonance defines many of the film's more intense moments, raising the tension. Elfman also throws in some blues/rockabilly sounding numbers, which fits the youthful characters and the hardscrabble setting. 

You'd expect a movie like “Freeway,” that so happily embraces bad taste, would outrage the stately critical establishment. And a few reviewers responded in that way. However, the movie was surprisingly well received. Maybe it's just because this was the post-Tarantino nineties, when film writers were thoroughly primed to enjoy an outrageous exploitation throwback like this. “Freeway” acquired a cult following quickly, becoming a reoccurring favorite on cable. That's where I first saw the movie, going in knowing nothing besides its “Little Red Riding Hood” premise, and was thoroughly charmed and entertained by it. Bright created an unexpectedly wild and deceptively smart thrill ride here. It impresses me every time I revisit it. [Grade: A]