Jane Austen’s heroines often have an astuteness when it comes to identifying the problems of others, which is only reluctantly applied towards themselves. The Elizabeth Bennett of Pride & Prejudice ascribes to Mr. Darcy a tendency towards superiority that is acutely active in herself. The titular Ms. Woodhouse of Emma assumes a worldly knowledge of all happenings in her small world, only to discover that she was clueless even to her own heart.
And speaking of Clueless, I just watched the all-time classic ’90s high school adaptation of the aforementioned novel, and it struck me that few other films capture a specific kind of ’90s high school car culture. Having lived through the mid-’90s in a wealthy area, there was a certain kind of status-associated automotive hierarchy that Clueless absolutely nails.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Writer and director Amy Heckerling, also known for Fast Times At Ridgemont High, has a gift for capturing mood. She famously embedded herself in the elite Beverly Hills High School in preparation for what would become Clueless. While everything is over the top, viewed 30 years later, the exaggerations don’t feel particularly exaggerated to me.
If you haven’t seen the film or read Emma, there will be spoilers below. Also, if you’ve gone this long without seeing any of the many Emma-based films or reading the book, you have forfeited your right to complain about spoilers. I’m going to take these cars on a character-by-character basis.
Elton’s 1995 Camaro Z/28
The best villain, always, is a villain you don’t see coming. In the novel, Mr. Elton is a seemingly well-meaning clergyman who is intent on ingratiating himself with Emma and her friend Harriet. In the film adaptation, he’s a cool kid whose father is in the entertainment industry (the Los Angeles equivalent of working for God, I suppose). He appears to welcome Cher’s yenta-like desire to pair him up with her new friend/pet project Tai.
In a twist, Elton is clearly smitten with Cher and has no interest in Tai beyond how she can help him look better in front of the true object of his desire. Upon being rejected, Elton drives off and leaves Alicia Silverstone’s character to be robbed at gunpoint. What would a villain in the ’90s drive? A 4th-gen Camaro Z/28, of course.
I’m not entirely sure why, but certain cars are just obviously villain cars. If you owned one of these new in high school at the time, it meant you had money and, also, your parents didn’t think twice about handing you a car with the higher-output LT1 V8. Should a high schooler be trusted with that much relative power in a vehicle with that little relative handling? Probably not! The presumption involved is how you end up with a jerk of a kid, is all I’m saying.
At the same time, my local driving school had a bunch of Corollas and one 4th-gen Camaro in V6-trim. I made sure to sign up for the instructor with the Camaro so I could get a chance to drive it, only to realize that the terrible visibility made it extremely difficult to parallel park as a novice. After that, I was all Corolla.
Dionne’s E36 BMW Convertible
The joke about Cher being named after Cher, and Dionne being named after Dionne Warwick, didn’t stick the first time I watched the film, but very much tickled me on my most recent watch. The red-over-tan 325i BMW was the default choice for wealthy children, specifically young women. This is especially true in Southern California, where you can get away with having the top down almost permanently.
A 325i isn’t the exciting trim, and, upon closer inspection, she’s got the slushbox. If you’re going to get your kid a ’90s convertible, this one is a relatively safe choice. Based on her many outfits, Dionne isn’t short on funds, but the spoiling seems to have some limits.
A few years later, when I was driving age, one of my high school girlfriends got partial custody of an E46 convertible, and the general thesis of the car feels correct, even if she was more into Tim Burton than Calvin Klein.
Christian’s Nash Metropolitan
One of the more ’90s modifications of the book is that the Jane Fairfax character, who is at first seen as Emma’s rival, mostly doesn’t exist. Without spoiling the book’s biggest twist, I’ll just say that her absence leaves no big secret for the Frank Churchill character to keep. Clueless addresses this by making Christian (the stand-in for Churchill) a young gay man.
Christian is an early version of a metrosexual, a term that became more popular after the film, used to describe a well put-together fellow who seems to love clothes more than anything. What’s clear is that, sexual orientation aside, the character has an appreciation for old Hollywood style. And what’s more stylish of a convertible than a 1954 Nash Metropolitan? A creamy mustard-yellow convertible version!
While you’d be unlikely to find a Nash at most high schools back then, the idea of a tasteful throwback was pretty common. I, myself, drove a yellow-ish W123 Mercedes purchased from someone my grandmother knew from her pool.
Mr. Horowitz’s NSX And Mercedes S-Class
Based on the house, and the Claes Oldenburg in the backyard by the pool, the impression Cher’s dad gives is of a somewhat new money, hard-working lawyer. This is quite different from the novel, wherein Mr. Woodhouse is the gentlest of gentlemen and seems to have little interest in work. In fact, the Emma of the novel looks down her nose slightly at the new money, hard-working Cole family.
What’s funny about the S-Class is that the super wealthy old-money parents at my affluent high school didn’t drive them. Instead, they tended to drive E-Class wagons, which were nice and practical. The S-Class sedan was reserved for people who generally only recently got their money. The gorgeous NSX, too, just feels right. It takes time to get a Ferrari, but anyone can buy an NSX.
Cher’s YJ Jeep Wrangler
Silly boys, Jeeps are for Girls as the popular bumper sticker says.
This and the Nash are inspired choices. What Cher’s dad inherits from Mr. Woodhouse is a fear for his daughter’s safety and well-being. He genuinely loves her and, as a litigator, seems to be wary of the world at large. While all the safety equipment described by Cher may not be accurate, it serves the purpose of explaining why she’d end up with a Jeep.
She wants a convertible that can act as just one of a dozen fashion accessories she seems to need to move through her environment. The YJ has a classic look that’s been tastefully modernized. Dad wants something that looks tough, and in fact, the SUV craze would be justified by buyers who accepted the illusion that a heavy, body-on-frame truck would somehow protect them from physics. The Wrangler is a perfect compromise.
A lot of my classmates had these and, not to be a bummer, but a beloved classmate and three of her friends were killed when their YJ flipped over (I think drinking was involved). Given Cher’s driving at the beginning of the film, it’s not the choice I’d make, but it was nevertheless a popular one.
If You Went To School In The ’90s, Does This Feel Right To You?
I realize that this is a specific time and place, which means that it may not quite conform to your experience even if you were of school age in the ’90s. Does the film feel accurate to you?
Top graphic images: Clueless/Paramount Pictures
Yeah, it’s pretty accurate…and I’ve always loved Alicia Silverstone. She was unbelievably hot in the Aerosmith “Crazy” video. She drove me…crazy…crazy…crazy…
90% of BMW drivers make the rest of them look bad.
Quick correction – the E36 isn’t Dionne’s, it’s her boyfriend Murray’s (played by Donald Faison). The infamous freeway scene where Dionne is in the driver’s seat is because Murray is helping her prep for her license test. He also drives them to the party in the valley in the E36.
There’s also the teal Civic hatchback driven by Josh (played by Paul Rudd) that’s worth a mention!
Side note, the scene in the kitchen where the housekeeper gets upset when Cher says she’s Mexican, because she’s El Salvadoran, is masterclass writing. It’s funny but also says a ton about their characters.
No, Clueless is the ultimate 90s affluent high school car movie. For the rest of us plebes, 10 Things I Hate About You is more representative (and, incidentally, was filmed the summer before my senior year of high school at Stadium High in Tacoma, half an hour from where I went to school at Sumner High out in the sticks).
Went to high school in a weird like half ranch-kids/half rich-kids high school.
We had local car shows so some of us drove classics to school (1965 Mercury Comet Caliente for me). Others drove old farm-trucks. About 1/3 drove hand-me down Mercedes/BMW/Volvos. Still jealous of the girl who had a 780 2.3T 5-speed in Gold over Tan.
I was in high school at the same time as Cher, in a working-class town in MA that is most famous for the fishing industry. I didn’t relate to this movie at all, but it did fit in with the idyllic notion I had of what life in SoCal must be like.
There were a handful of new or newer cars in the school parking lot, but most students drove older, beat up or hand-me down cars.
Even the social classes weren’t that solidly defined, and NOBODY dressed that well.
Side note – shout out to The Mighty Mighty Bosstones for being the band at the dance.
Well the film might feel accurate to someone who grew up wealthy in a wealthy area.
But I went to high school in in a more working class area in the late 1980s to 1990s. So the newest/fanciest cars were Fox-body Mustangs (often 4 cyl), Cavalier Z24s and Honda Civics (along with the odd CRX). Oh there was one guy who I think was the older brother to one of the students who drove a 1987 Buick Regal Grand National. That, by far, was the fanciest.
But most of us either got to school by bus (me), some dirt cheap car (like one friend who drove an early 1980s Olds Omega – where the transmission shat the bed not long after he got it) or with whatever hand-me-down car their parents let them drive.
And those hand-me-down cars were just average daily drivers like a Chevy S-10, a GM FWD A-body, a Chevy Nova from the 1970s, etc.