CRASH
A film review by Martyn C. Winkler
Copyright 1997 Martyn C. Winkler
Is CRASH Pornographic Trash?
*** 1/2 (out of ****)
David Cronenbergs newest creation, the intriguingly dark CRASH, is probably one of the most controversial films in today's cinemas. Until its release nationwide Friday, March 21, it was uncertain if the film would be released at all in the United States, due to Ted Turner, the owner of Fine Line Cinema. Turner has repeatedly stated that he hates the film and thinks it is nothing more than pornography. Many people agree fervently with his point of view. On the opposing side, however, many greatly admire CRASH, along with countless respected film critics and movie buffs. And while it has been banned in several countries internationally, it has won an impromptu invented prize at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival for "Originality, daring and audacity". It seems that you either love this movie, or hate it. This controversy is by itself reason enough to go see CRASH. Decide for yourself if you will join a boycott group to save our society from this morally corrupting film, or join the CRASH fan club to defend the right to make and view artistic trash...eh...Crash. For those of you who still need some more persuasion to pay six dollars for this film, I will try to review it as objectively as possible (but will probably end up defending it anyway). In one sentence the plot of CRASH seems very crude: people get their sexual kicks from car-crashes. However, the film is not about the plot. It is about our modern detached society, about destructive fetishism. More about that later. When the film opens, after a terrific credit-sequence, we meet a couple, James Ballard (named after the writer of CRASH; played by James Spader) and his wife Catherine (Deborah Unger). Both are engaged in pure physical sex...with someone else. Catherine is spread over the cold metallic hood of a small aircraft, James over his own desk. When the two meet afterwards, they discuss their experiences in a seemingly matter-of-fact way and appear not to be sexually satisfied at all. That night James is driving back to his work. One distracted glance later he finds himself colliding with another car, killing the driver, but leaving the passenger alive. It is Dr. Helen Remington (Holly Hunter). Soon after he is released from hospital, Helen introduces James to an obscure group of people whose lives evolve solely around car-crashes. Consequently, all of them are scarred extensively and some even have intricate prostheses. The leader of this group, Vaughan (Elias Koteas), who specializes in recreating celebrity car-crashes (like James Deans fatal collision), explains what the crashes mean to him: "It is sexual liberation." To put it plainly, it is the fetish of this group. It provides their necessary sexual pleasure. And a deadly crash would be the absolute peak of that pleasure. Frankly, this plot-outline does resemble that of a shallow porn-flick. It is true as well, that after every crash there are numerous sexually explicit scenes; not quite as shocking and perverse as some want us to believe, however. The question then arises: How does CRASH differ from DEEP THROAT? Director David Cronenberg has always been interested in artistic gore. His remake of THE FLY involved gruesome devouring of limbs; in DEAD RINGERS Jeremy Irons operates on his twin brother using gynecological instruments, killing him. What makes his films artistically successful is his style and form. Cronenberg always balances on the edge of acceptable and manages never to go over the top. His mis-en-scene transforms the ugliest scene into an intriguing portrait. His use of light and camera (shadows are very important) and his direction of the actors (adding to them a sense of detachment and aloofness) guarantees subtlety to sodomy, beauty to blood. For CRASH in particular, Cronenberg has managed to pull this off for sex rather than violence. In portraying destructive sexual fetishism, he has chosen car-crashes as the instruments of pleasure. Why cars? Perhaps because in the modern world cars are indeed a symbol for our sexuality. The bigger the car, the more successful and desirable we are. Need I go into the allegory of why everybody would rather have a shiny red convertible over a shabby brown pick-up truck? Maybe another reason to specifically use car-crashes is that they do not arouse anybody sexually, except the characters in the film. I cannot imagine that anyone could derive sexual pleasure from a collision with another car. Sure, it can be exhilarating (like the fantastically thrilling sequences on the highway), but certainly not orgasmic; not in the real world anyway. Cronenberg forces the audience to view the scenes with a certain detachment and focuses the attention on the destructive aspect of fetishism. He forces the viewer to think by using a virtually non-desirable fetish. CRASH is clearly not a pornographic exploitation movie. It is too cold, too mechanic for that. Rather, it is a dark view on modern society and its destructive (sexual) forces. The seething critics of this film have a lot in common with those of THE PEOPLE VS. LARRY FLYNT; they oppose the film for the wrong reasons. LARRY FLYNT is not about glorifying the founder of Hustler magazine; it is not even about the sex-industry. It is about a groundbreaking trial that helped establish and strengthen a little notion called 'freedom of speech'. CRASH is not about sex or pornography and it certainly does not glorify it. If only the protesters would actually know what they are protesting against (i.e., go see the film), they would realize their ignorance. When I saw this film in the cinema, my fellow audience members mainly consisted of older men. I suspect they did not get what they came for. Neither will any (premature) critics of CRASH.
mwinkle@mailhost.tcs.tulane.edu
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