Freeway Killer Blu-ray features bad video and decent audio in this disappointing Blu-ray release
For years he terrorized California motorists as he rode the endless highways searching for his next victim. The
discarded bodies turned up beaten, sexually assaulted and horribly mutilated. Deceptively charming and
intelligent, the scheming murderer easily avoided police at first. But as police closed in and the killer’s
pattern
grew more erratic, the only question was how many more will die?
Before David Fincher's Zodiac, before Red Dragon, Hannibal, and The
Silence of the Lambs, there was director John McNaughton's Henry: Portrait of a Serial
Killer, a gruesome and realistic headtrip through one week in the life of a murder-addicted
psychopath. Loosely based on the killing spree of Henry Lee Lucas and his accomplice, Ottis Toole,
Henry was unique for its time in the way that it tried to parse the mind of an
unrepentant predator, played by Michael Rooker, viewing Henry not as some faceless, soulless
bogeyman—like Jason, Freddy, and Michael Meyers—but as a real person, with real, albeit twisted,
motivations. The film is also a kind of cinematic experiment, gauging its audience's reaction to and
perception of the atrocities committed on-screen. The Freeway Killer has a lot in common
with Henry—Michael Rooker even shows up in an extended cameo—but it's far less
effective dramatically and doesn't seem to know what it wants to be: a character study or a trashy
piece of true crime exploitation. It tries to be both, and in the process, it comes off as shallow, a me-
too copycat killer that can't quite match Henry's grim and psychologically revealing modus
operandi.
First rule of 1970s period pieces: Don't have Starbucks Frappuccinos in the convenience store
fridge.
In the late 1970s, southern California cops were baffled by a string of remarkably similar
murders, where the victims—all male—were casually dumped on the side of the road. While
initially suspected to be the work of one man, it was eventually discovered that there were three
separate "Freeway Killers," all working independently of one another. The film never mentions
this, and focuses solely on William Bonin, a troubled Vietnam veteran and repeat sex offender
who was inexplicably paroled twice and then went on to rape and murder at least 21 teenage
boys and young men during his year-long killing spree. His technique was simple: he'd prowl the
streets in what has come, in the modern parlance, to be called a "rapist van"—you know the sort,
dark, windowless, discrete—and pick up hitchhikers, drifters, and naïve school kids. After getting
all buddy-buddy with his victims, usually by getting them high or drunk, he would strike out
suddenly, hogtie and sexually assault them, and then strangle them using his signature
windlass technique, which involved twisting a t-shirt around their necks using a tire iron.
What was particularly strange about Bonin, however—not that killing someone with a t-shirt and
tire iron isn't strange—was that, unlike most serial killers, he often worked with accomplices. In
fact, Bonin was quite the charismatic figure, grooming and guiding his hand-picked partners in
crime through the act of murder as if it were a rite of passage.
The Freeway Killer, then, by focusing on these manipulative relationships, tries to
overturn the myth of the serial killer as a lone wolf. Former football player Scott Leet plays Bonin,
and the film picks up in the middle of the murderer's spree, as he works with seedy cohort
Vernon Butts (Dusty Sorg) to con young, desperate hitchhikers into taking their last rides. Bonin
and Butts—there's a thematically appropriate joke in there somewhere, but I won't make it—
have a mentor/trainee partnership that borders on spousal. "I did my first kill with him, man,"
says Butts, "and that's a bond." The two have been at it for several months, as evidenced by
their "family album," which is filled with Polaroids of their victims' corpses, but the balance of
trust is disrupted when Bonin recruits a new helpmate, Kyle (Cole Williams), a baby-faced
convenience store clerk with woman troubles. Kyle was supposed to be one of Bonin's kills, but
when he confesses, while high, to having sick thoughts, Bonin sees a chance to add another
member to his perverse little family. You can probably see where this is going. Butts' jealously
grows as Bonin spends more and more time with Kyle, and the bizarre quasi-love triangle
eventually unhinges altogether as Bonin loses control of his bloodlust and grows increasingly
more paranoid. Cue Michael Rooker as an undercover cop out to bust the case of the Freeway
Killer.
The film tries desperately to get inside the mind of a murderer, but it's constantly thwarted by
budgetary constraints, a stilted script, and awkward, hammy performances. The story is set, of
course, in the late 1970s, but the film simply doesn't have the resources to pull off a convincing
period look. There are anachronisms everywhere, and if you told me the film takes place in the
present day, I'd totally buy it, as even the costuming fails to capture the post-Vietnam era's
distinct fashions. I have nothing against low-budget productions—see how effectively Henry:
Portrait of a Serial Killer used its paltry $100k, for instance—but Freeway Killer feels
decidedly cheap, especially when it comes to the uninspired cinematography (which includes,
during the driving scenes, one of the most jarring, obvious uses of rear screen projection I've
seen in a modern film). Thematically, the film seems conflicted. Is it a biopic? William: Portrait
of a Different Serial Killer? A schlocky, z-grade bit of exploitation titillation? It's certainly not
strictly beholden to the actual facts of William Bonin's life, it's neither psychologically insightful
nor particularly thrilling, and even gorehounds will be disappointed by the relative lack of viscera.
While largely bloodless, the murder scenes are still sickening, and the only feeling I left the film
with was one of indifferent disgust. Unlike Henry, which has a certain intentionality to its
depravity, The Freeway Killer is, in my estimation, pointless, a gratuitous slap-in-the-face
to William Bonin's tortured and sexually abused victims. The final nail in the film's coffin? Scott
Leet basically steals every one of Jack Nicholson's facial expressions from The Shining
and uses them as the basis for his over-the-top performance. Give him an ax and tell him to
snarl, "Here's Johnny!" and it would look like he's doing a parody on SNL.
The Freeway Killer was shot on…I dunno, SD video? Really bad high definition cameras?
Poorly transferred 16mm? Honestly, the 1080p/AVC-encoded image is so blurry and indistinct that
it's hard to tell. Since I can't dig up any technical specs online, I'll hazard a guess and say this was
shot on some sort of video. In the commentary track, director John Murlowski talks about serving as
his own DP, but judging from the outcome, maybe it wasn't such a good idea. The picture is
consistently soft and gauzy, as if someone had taken a normal high definition image and smeared it
with Vaseline. Even in the tightest close-ups, fine detail, like skin texture and eye lashes, is
completely missing. Color reproduction fares slightly better, but not by much. The film has a dim,
murky look—once again, like a modern Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer—with colors that
are muted and thin, with few exceptions, like the blue exterior of Bonin's van. Black levels are
adequate during the daytime scenes, but the darker sequences are hazy, with detail frequently lost
in opaque shadows. Noise is also erratic, sometimes buzzing heavily over the image, sometimes
nearly absent, and sometimes both within the same scene. I've seen upscaled DVDs that look much
better than this.
The film's DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track is at least a step up from the video quality, and
while you won't confuse this with, say, Transformers 2, the mix is more than adequate for
an ultra-low budget serial killer flick. The surround channels aren't incredibly active, but you will
hear some neighborhood ambience and a few oh, look, they tried panning effects, like
Bonin's van moving from left to right through the rear speakers. The score is forgettable, and at
times anachronistic, but I was impressed by the pulsing LFE drone that the film often uses to
underscore the more horrific moments. The various gruesome sound effects are also appropriately
squishy and disgusting, and the dialogue throughout is well-balanced and easy to understand.
Commentary by Director John Murlowski and Writer David Birke
Murlowski and Birke discuss the real William Bonin, the research that went into the project, and
the
limitations of trying to film a 1970s period piece on a low budget—among the usual behind-the-
scenes anecdotes and technical details—but this isn't a particularly gripping track.
Freeway Killer: Captured (SD, 11:28)
Your average low-budget behind-the-scenes featurette, including interviews with all the primary
cast members, as well as director John Murlowski and screenwriter David Birke. Most of the focus
here is on the acting—the film's weakest link, in my opinion.
I have nothing good to say about The Freeway Killer, a film that can't even be
recommended on the basis of shock value. True crime fans may briefly get a sick thrill from all the
vicarious murdering, but most viewers will cringe and reach for the remote. This film also boasts the
worst picture quality I've personally seen so far this year. Be wise and refuse to enter The
Freeway Killer's creepy van.
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