Hell's Highway
Hell's Highway, the True Story of Highway Safety Films
êêê     Rated R
Reviewed by Shelley Cameron
Scared straight

Directed by Bret Wood
USA.  Documentary.  91 Minutes.

The possibilities for documentary films are endless.  With a plethora of new ones, I recently find myself wondering how one decides to make a movie, for example, about an old investigation of alleged pedophilia (Capturing the Friedmans), or the "true" record of spring break in Mexico (The Real Cancun).  The former is provocative and thoughtful, the latter, a dismal excuse for a movie that, incredibly, someone felt worthy of promotion and distribution.

The reality, of course, is that cinema, like all art, is a reflection of life.  Applied to Hell's Highway, the True Story of Highway Safety Films Inc, the result is a film of undeniable interest, if perhaps of limited usefulness.  That said, what at first seems a little questionable stirs up a larger topic that is the film's most interesting aspect.  The underlying issue is how our collective consciousness is shaped to conform to the dominant voice.  Highway Safety Films Inc. had its start with Richard Wayman, an accountant who did a lot of highway travel.  His interest in photography and in police work led him to the scene of a fatal accident in 1954. He took some photos with his still camera to aid the police investigation.  Along with a couple of friends, he put together a slide show of graphic photos of traffic fatalities in the tradition of instructional films: to "stimulate, educate, and motivate." The photographers began roaming the highways of Ohio with their cameras.  The slide show presentations were soon followed by narrative movies to show in high school driver education classes.  Ironically, the documentary gets an R rating (under 17 requires a parent) for the bloody accident footage and accompanying soundtrack.

The tragic and graphic movies were meant as a teaching tool: to scare, shock, and implore teenagers to drive carefully.  The most compelling thing to take away from the film and worth watching it for, is the process by which instructional films ended up in classrooms across America.  The approach is deadpan and told through clips from the movies (Highways of Agony, Wheels of Tragedy) and interviews, some with the people who made the movies.  It appears intentions were good, although their value as incentive to good driving remains doubtful.  In addition, scandal rears its ugly head with an investigation into allegations that the film making facilities were used to make a series of porn films and accusations about millions of dollars of missing funds.  Director Bret Wood wisely keeps centered on the safety films and their brief but powerful impact that not coincidentally spawned recent interest in the films as campy, grisly entertainment, enjoying new life in the 1990's as party films.  The most historically informed voice belongs to Richard Prelinger, an archivist whose perspective encompasses a wider cultural view.  He provides background about the very notion of how such films were originally conceived by insurance companies to "teach" that accidents were the fault of human carelessness.  This purpose of shifting blame to the victim and away from unsafe conditions or equipment is the most compelling notion unmasked in Hell's Highway.

Interviewee Mike Vraney, of Something Weird Video, explains the resurgent interest in these films as droll and humorous, and soft peddles their cult popularity.  He also says its probably a good idea no one is making them anymore.

Shelley Cameron Ó 2003