As in Thomas Pynchons source novel of the same name, Shasta Fay Hepworth (Katherine Waterston) is a beguiling presence, more a beautiful apparition than a character; a slinking, sultry, kind-of femme fatale (but not really); a California surf-chick unconcerned with being a California surf-chick. She teases Doc (Joaquin Phoenix) in one of the years great sexual scenes and is the reason he gets in way over his head, but theres nothing malicious about her, nothing manipulative. But then there kind of is, because she knows Doc loves her and will do anything for her. Shes a walking ambiguity, a stunning, tanned enigma. Played by Waterston, Shasta Fay is an embodiment of how the love-filled 60s filtered out into the more nervous 70s: on the one hand shes a flower child, all blonde hair and bikini bottoms and flashbacks to when she and Doc danced in the rain to Neil Young. On the other shes an increasingly anxious young woman, seeking out a safe old face because shes in deep with some shady characters keen to leave the decade behind. She ends the film in Docs front seat, driving towards an uncertain future but always glancing in the rear-view, looking back, as she goes.
