I first watched Ridley Scott’s Thelma & Louise in 2023, and when the credits rolled, I had two thoughts: First, that 1991 was a great year for road movies (I’m looking at you, My Own Private Idaho) – and second, that Scott’s poignant tale of two women on the run from the law bore a striking resemblance to Rob Zombie’s 2005 film, The Devil’s Rejects.

In revisiting both films in a double-feature, I’ve found that despite their tonal juxtapositions, their characters (and their quests for freedom on the open road) share a common bond. Scott and Zombie each find extraordinary ways to connect the audience with their films’ protagonists, skewering preconceptions and the norm with satisfying grace.

In Thelma & Louise, the titular women’s road trip – a much needed escape from the men seemingly governing their lives – takes a downward spiral following a shocking act of violence. Scott and screenwriter Callie Khouri establish early on that their characters are flawed people, just (but not completely) like the serial killer Firefly family at the center of Zombie’s gruesome journey from hell.

In The Devil’s Rejects, Captain Spaulding, Baby and Otis are presented as irredeemable monsters from the get-go. The film opens with a police raid on their family farmhouse led by Sheriff John Quincy Wydell, whose descent into the dusty walls of their home reveals a hoard of murder victims. They escape his clutches and take off on a blood-soaked odyssey across Texas’ unforgiving landscape – and it’s in this time that Zombie humanizes his characters.

A debate between Otis, Baby and Spaulding over whether or not the trio should stop for ice cream becomes one of the most terrifying scenes in Zombie’s gory, grimy film, because within those few minutes, he proves for a moment that his characters share a comparable family dynamic to many within his audience.

Scott and Khouri accomplish the same viewer-character connection with their funny, female troublemakers. Even though Thelma and Louise’s motives are rooted deeply in their longing for gender equality, their witty charm and desire for a better world makes them lovable and relatable to audiences beyond their position.

Eventually, all of these characters find themselves cornered by their pursuers, and the identical choices that they subsequently make – to barrel onward in their blue convertibles and into transcendent flight – leave a lasting emotional impact. On the surface, these brilliantly human characters vary widely in their goals and morals, but deep down, they’re just like you and me – and we’d make the same, final decision in their shoes.