Here are some of the people likely to be offended by Freeway 2: Confessions of Trickbaby if they take this flick even a tad too seriously: lawyers, African-Americans, correctional officers, people with eating disorders, wheelchair users, lesbians, Latinos, amputees, poor white people, the elderly, Catholics, transsexuals, the entire population of Tijuana, and anyone who is disturbed by necrophilia, incest, pedophilia, vomit, prostitution, drug use, compulsive masturbation, multiple homicide, Vincent Gallo's acting career, or gigantic prosthetic genitalia. In fact, this update of the reform-school girl genre takes exploitation to such absurd extremes that it can only be viewed as an over-the-top comedy, one that rekindles the spirit of John Waters a mere two decades after Hollywood de-clawed him. Natasha Lyonne, in a series of frocks and fright wigs that would make a New York drag queen flee in terror, brings the same blasé naturalism to the role of trash-talking, trick-whipping, vomit-obsessed Crystal, aka "White Girl," that she did to her likable young characters in films such as Slums of Beverly Hills. Maria Celedonio, meanwhile, turns Cyclona into the apotheosis of art-directed teen depravity. With her washboard abs, cute outfits, and homicidal tics, she comes off like a butch refugee from pop trio TLC gone way over the edge. Leaving no sacred cow unmunched (or unregurgitated), Freeway 2 emerges as a grotesque parody/celebration of the overmedicated, parent-blaming, morally relativistic cultural implosion that Jerry Springer and his ilk first foisted upon our popular culture. Most will abhor it, a few will worship it, and it will doubtless have a long shelf life in the cult sections of independent video emporiums.