How "Interstate 60" Uses Fantasy to Explore (and Excuse) Personal Immaturity
Some films wear their messages on their sleeves, while others, like "Interstate 60," present a more enigmatic surface. It's easy to watch Neil Oliver's adventure and see a tale of personal growth, of a young man breaking free to chase his dreams. After all, the ingredients are there: a hero stifled by expectation, a magical guide, and a transformative quest. "We see what we expect to see, not necessarily the truth," a line from the film itself, ironically hints that a more critical look might reveal something quite different. Could it be that this film is less about maturation and more about the subtle comfort of remaining undefined, of avoiding the true weight of change?
The Alluring Deception of "Interstate 60": A Road to Fantasy, Not Freedom?
At the heart of the story is Neil Oliver, a young man with artistic aspirations, a relationship lacking genuine affection, and a dominant father he struggles to oppose. His most significant challenge appears to be decision-making. In psychological terms, the Ego mediates between our desires (the Id) and our societal roles or sense of duty (the Persona). It weighs options and makes choices, aiming for a harmonious balance. Neil's Ego, however, seems underdeveloped. He doesn't want to choose, perhaps because past attempts at independence were discouraged by his father, leading to a kind of learned helplessness. This paralysis is evident even in minor decisions, like choosing a tie – a choice others often make for him when he hesitates.
Neil isn't entirely without desire; he knows what he wants on some level, as seen by his disappointment with a computer's negative feedback. Yet, he fears confronting his father, his Persona, because that would mean severing a support system and embracing full responsibility for his life. This internal pressure, the dam of suppressed desires, arguably manifests externally as O.J. Grant – the enigmatic figure who sets Neil on his path.
O.J. Grant is presented as a leprechaun's son, not a devil, because devils make deals, while Grant simply fulfills wishes. Yet, Neil must sign a contract in blood for his wish. Grant also states, “I prefer inevitability; every event is inevitable, otherwise it would not have happened.” This deterministic view seems at odds with a road predicated on choice. This is the nature of the Trickster archetype, a figure O.J. Grant embodies perfectly. Like the Joker in Batman or the mythological Loki, tricksters sow confusion and absurdity, yet they possess a captivating charm. Grant is Neil’s waiter, his travel companion, the recipient of the mysterious package, an art gallery owner, and the art contest organizer. He is, perhaps, the disowned, chaotic part of Neil himself, projected outward.
The Hesitant Hero and His Evasive Guide
Neil's wish is vague: "An answer... to my life." This lack of specificity reflects his immaturity. A clearly defined wish would require a choice, a narrowing of focus. His subsequent travels along the mysterious roadway are meant to provide this answer. If this were a true exploration of his inner self, we might expect experiences that force genuine internal shifts and awareness of his conflicts.
A Journey Paved with Simplified Choices
Instead, two striking features of Route 60 simplify Neil’s path. Firstly, everything is starkly black and white. It’s easy to reject a woman with over two thousand partners, to quit smoking when warned by a man with lung cancer, or to dismiss the legal profession when all its practitioners in one town are portrayed as absurd. Finding the "perfect" girl who mirrors his interests makes that choice effortless. Real life, however, is rarely so clear-cut. Maturity involves navigating shades of grey, where personal discernment, not obvious signposting, determines the value of an experience. Route 60 doesn't teach reliance on oneself for these complex decisions; it suggests choice is easy when the "bad" is so obviously bad and the "good" is so clearly good.
Secondly, Neil is consistently portrayed as exceptional to everyone he encounters. To O.J. Grant, he’s one of the rare few who didn't wish for material gain. To the promiscuous woman, he’s the first to refuse her. To an advertising executive, he’s a top employee. To Lynn, he’s a prince. This constant validation caters to a youthful desire for specialness, an ego boost rather than a genuine test of character.
The Illusion of Growth
What is the ultimate outcome? Neil pops a magic 8-ball, symbolizing an appropriation of his intuition, suggesting he can now make decisions unaided. Buoyed by his experiences, he confronts his father, seemingly achieving separation. He even finds a new mentor in Mr. Conrad (another manifestation of O.J. Grant), who is the antithesis of his father. The father is strict and rational, emphasizing responsibility and life's complexities. The Trickster mentor is playful, erratic, and presents life as simple, black and white.
The need for a mentor is natural for a young person developing skills. However, Neil seems to have merely swapped one authority figure for another. His task was to activate his own Ego, to learn to choose independently by weighing his desires, societal norms, and the specific situation. Instead, he cedes his newfound decision-making power to this new mentor. When Mr. Conrad reveals he submitted Neil's painting to the contest, saying, "You left her at the motel, I took the liberty of sending it," it's clear Neil hasn't truly progressed. The scenery has changed, but the dynamic of external direction remains.
Ultimately, Route 60 can be seen as Neil's fantasy road. Unlike a path through the true subconscious that might force difficult self-awareness and painful growth, this fantastical construction highlights his psychological issues but resolves them in an exaggerated, wish-fulfilling manner. In our daydreams, we are often the heroes, unique and validated. Such fantasies reflect our unmet needs and current struggles but don't necessarily lead to genuine development. True growth often involves confronting pain, insecurity, and despair. Only by navigating these challenging aspects of ourselves can we understand our problems, accept ourselves, and truly change.
Neil chose a seemingly easier path. Where it ultimately leads him is an open question. For the rest of us, the choice remains: do we opt for the alluring road of fantasy, or the often more arduous road of authentic change and self-discovery?
References
- Jung, C. G. (1972). Four Archetypes: Mother, Rebirth, Spirit, Trickster. (R.F.C. Hull, Trans.). Princeton University Press. (Original work published 1959)
This book contains Jung's seminal essay on the Trickster archetype. It explores the figure of the Trickster as a collective shadow figure, an undifferentiated psychic remnant with both subhuman and superhuman characteristics, reflecting an earlier, less developed consciousness. This aligns with the article's interpretation of O.J. Grant as a projection of Neil's less mature, impulsive side (the Id), bringing chaos but also the potential for new awareness. The discussion of the Trickster's primitive and often amoral nature (pp. 135-152) is particularly relevant to O.J. Grant's ambiguous morality and playful deceptions.
- Freud, S. (1961). The Ego and the Id. (J. Strachey, Ed. and Trans.). W. W. Norton & Company. (Original work published 1923)
This foundational text introduces and elaborates on Freud's structural model of the psyche, comprising the Id (primitive instincts and desires, "I want"), the Ego (the realistic mediator, decision-maker), and the Superego (internalized societal and parental standards, "I should," related to the Persona in the article's context). The article's analysis of Neil's "atrophied Ego" and his struggle between his father's expectations (Persona/Superego) and his suppressed desires (Id) directly draws upon these concepts. The Ego's role in navigating reality and making choices, as described by Freud, is what Neil struggles to embody.
- Seligman, M. E. P. (1975). Helplessness: On Depression, Development, and Death. W. H. Freeman.
Seligman's work details the theory of learned helplessness, which occurs when an individual repeatedly faces uncontrollable, negative situations and eventually stops trying to change their circumstances, even when opportunities for change become available. The article suggests Neil's inability to make choices and his passive acceptance of his father's decisions could stem from such a pattern established in childhood, where "any independent [action] was suppressed." This book provides the empirical and theoretical basis for understanding how such a lack of agency can develop. Chapter 1, "Inescapable Trauma and Learned Helplessness," and Chapter 5, "Helplessness and Human Depression: The Causal Role of Beliefs," are particularly relevant.