Freeway

These days, it’s hard to see Kiefer Sutherland as anyone but Jack Bauer: counter-terrorist hero agent and indestructible badass. 24 began in 2001 and shows no signs of letting up, with the eighth season set for early 2010. It’s undoubtedly the role Sutherland will be remembered for when he’s gone, and likely one he’ll find hard to shake off once Jack’s days are up.

Before 24, however, Sutherland had played a veritable rogue’s gallery of characters. Things kicked off (a few early cameos notwithstanding) with gang leader Ace Merrill in Rob Reiner’s Stand By Me, Sutherland’s first film made in the US and a true coming-of-age classic. But it wasn’t until The Lost Boys, and vampire David (‘they’re only noodles, Michael’), that Sutherland hit paydirt, and, more by default than by choice, found himself among the Brat Pack, the gaggle of rich, good-looking, party-loving teen actors making waves in 1980s Hollywood. The roles kept on coming…Doc Scurlock (Young Guns), Buster McHenry (Renegades), Nelson (Flatliners), Athos (The Three Musketeers), Lt Jonathan Kendrick (A Few Good Men)…even William Burroughs (Beat).

In 1996, there was Freeway, Matthew Bright’s very loose and lurid retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. (‘Her life is no fairytale’, says the poster.) Sutherland plays Bob Wolverton (Wolverton, wolf, geddit?), a serial killer and rapist plying his trade on a stretch of interstate in LA. The ‘her’ on the poster is Vanessa Lutz (Reece Witherspoon), a white-trash, illiterate teen with a whore for a mother and a crack-smoking pervert for a stepfather. Vanessa was Witherspoon’s first major role, and one which marked her out as a rising star. She plays the part with relish, no holding back, cutting loose as a cute, blonde bundle of violence.

The lascivious tone of the film is established from the get-go; the credit sequence a sordid cartoon tapestry of salivating wolves preying on big-breasted babydolls. Within ten minutes, we’ve seen Vanessa’s homelife, and it isn’t pretty. Her mother (Amanda Plummer) turns tricks yards from her doorstep, while her meatheaded stepfather (Michael T Weiss) smokes the proceeds and struggles to keep his dick in his pants. A prostitute sting later, and the couple are carted off to jail, leaving Vanessa with no choice but to return to the care system, a future she’d do anything to avoid. She eludes her social worker, takes off in the woman’s car, breaks down on the freeway. Cue Bob Wolverton.

Now you don’t need a heads-up to know that Bob is going to be a big, bad wolf, despite his initial generosity in helping Vanessa out with a ride. It’s all there, the stereotypical sex killer: oversized glasses, slicked-back hair, a calm, hypnotic hum of a voice that you sense can erupt at any moment. (Sutherland’s always been great at playing villains, effortlessly able to flick that switch between all-round good guy and complete bastard.) Bob claims to be a therapist of some sort, and manipulates Vanessa into discussing personal details about herself and her ordeal with her stepfather (as well as giving up information about her final destination; her grandmother’s). When she finally cottons on to what Bob is doing – getting his kicks, rather than playing confidante – Vanessa makes him pull over, then shoots him, leaving him for dead.

Vanessa is soon arrested, interrogated by detectives (one of whom is Dan Hedaya, who always seems to be in the neighbourhood when a film like this comes around), charged and put on trial. At her hearing, she sees Bob, or what he’s been reduced to; a severely disfigured, half-blind shell of a man with a face permanently shaped into a maniacal, drooling grin. She is sent to prison, but escapes with the help of a murderous Hispanic gang leader she has befriended. The detectives continue to investigate her case, find that Wolverton isn’t the victim he’s made himself out to be, and track him down to his house. He’s not there, however, he's already well on his way to Vanessa’s grandmother’s place, the scene of the film’s manic denouement.

An earlier blog on the Jennifer Lynch film, Surveillance, talked about the B-movie, and its apparent scarcity in modern-day cinema. Freeway is very much that kind of film; sinful, berserk, grotesque, sanguinary. The entire cast plays it note-perfect, with obvious praise reserved for the two leads. Given his almost untouchable TV star status today, it’s unlikely we’ll see Sutherland immerse himself in this type of role for a long time, if ever. Which is a shame, as these larger-than-life villains are his to own. By the same token, Witherspoon has blossomed into the talented actress the critics were envisaging back in 1996, yet hasn’t played a character since who’s anywhere nearly as interesting as Vanessa Lutz (no, June Carter Cash doesn’t count). The world can live without another Legally Blonde sequel, what we want to see is Hollywood A-listers taking risks, throwing caution to the wind, growing balls, having FUN.