Early in the 1990s, Miramax (through its Dimension arm), Showtime, and producers Debra Hill and Lou Arkoff (son of American International Pictures chief Sam Z. Arkoff) embarked on an ambitious project designed to set B-movie aficionados' hearts atwitter while paying tribute to a bygone era of overdriven, salaciously titled drive-in fare. The "Rebel Highway" project commissioned distinctive, independent-minded directors to loosely remake, on extremely tight budgets, films from AIP's enormous catalog of low-budget B-movies from the '50s and early '60s. While the series' best entries (Allan Arkush's delightful musical comedy Shake, Rattle & Rock!, Robert Rodriguez's kinetic Roadracers) have lived up to its considerable promise, Miramax's home-video treatment of the results has been uniformly lazy. Rather than releasing the films as a series package, or in extras-packed DVDs, the studio has haltingly marketed them one at a time, with unimaginative packaging playing up photogenic young stars rather than the series connection. Jailbreakers is no exception. The 1994 film arrives on video and DVD in a no-frills package, with box design accentuating star Shannen Doherty's glistening cleavage, while exploiting the film's resemblance to a certain recent blockbuster. ("They're Fast… And They're Furious!" shouts the cover copy.) It's a shame, because while Jailbreakers isn't quite up to the standards of Rock and Roadracers, it towers above dispiriting entries like John McNaughton's leaden Girls In Prison and Uli Edel's mirthless Confessions Of Sorority Girls, while delivering its share of B-movie kicks. Directed by Exorcist and French Connection veteran William Friedkin and co-written by Hill, Jailbreakers casts Doherty as a flirtatious high-school cheerleader who's not so much a good girl gone bad (as the DVD case claims) as an already-bad girl gone worse. Bored and unchallenged by her school's vapid jocks and squares, Doherty takes up with surly, motorcycle-riding greaser sociopath Antonio Sabato Jr., and encourages him to engage in string of crimes that lands him in jail. Freed from the pokey by gangly sidekick Adrien Brody, Sabato returns to Doherty, only to find that she no longer wants to run away with him. Needless to say, he doesn't take her decision particularly well. A companion piece to Rodriguez's similarly speed-loving Roadracers, Jailbreakers doesn't quite have that film's boundless energy and propulsive sense of fun, but compensates with lip-smacking nastiness and a brisk 76-minute running time. As a she-wolf in cheerleader's clothing, Doherty too often blurs the line between entertaining-bad and just plain awful, but the terrific Brody fills the charisma void with characteristic panache. Nasty, low-down, and fast-paced, Jailbreakers doesn't aspire to be anything more than a fun B-movie, and succeeds nicely.