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Summary: The immediate subject matter of Crash is the strange lure of the auto collision, provoking as it does the human fascination with death and the tendency to eroticize danger. Most motorists will slow down to stare at the scene of a collision; they may feel their pulses quickening and become exquisitely aware of the fragility of their own bodies. The characters of Crash carry this awareness a step further, cherishing and nurturing it. For them, a car collision is a sexual turn-on, and a jolting life-force they come to crave. (Fine Line Features)
This one doesn't quite work for me. I understand that it's about sex, death, and a bizarre kind of cultish posthumanism a la Videodrome's "new flesh," but most of this just feels too silly. It's not supposed to be about mere car crash fetishism, but when all these characters do is drive around like maniacs or morosely fuck & kiss each other (and their scars) in auto wreckage it just feels like the theme is repetitive, stretched out awkwardly... If only it actually felt erotic instead of gross.
I was intrigued by the movie's refusal to attempt to explain why these characters act the way they do. At first I struggled to find motivation for their strange actions, but I gradually began to realize the effort was futile. I eventually gave in and just let Cronenberg take me where we wanted. The result is a movie filled with emotionally-distant people who seek out sexual pleasure in ways I will never understand, and a movie that has stayed with me for days. Quite intriguing.
Hmmmm...It's certainly unusual. But is it "good"? Not sure yet. Anyway, it is original, as evidenced by the line, ""Can you imagine what his anus looks like? Describe it to me." I thought I'd only ever hear that in a Mel Gibson film.
I think one has to read the J.G. Ballard book that this film was based on to truly understand the tone of it. Ballard's intent in his book was to present sex in a manner devoid of eroticism, machinelike, without any real titillation. He wanted to highlight the obsession with technology that the current generation is so fixated on. I read the book before the movie and thought it captured Ballard's message and tone incredibly accurately, so this film is high on my list.
Cronenberg's sexy and disturbing film erases the line between soft human flesh and compact metal, discovered through the emotionally-devoid, but sexually-frightening lives of it's upper-class characters. I don't know about you, but this film drove straight up my alley.
Ballard's robotic style of writing is complemented by Cronenberg's detached fascination with body horror. Although the film loses the Elizabeth Taylor and LSD subplots, there's the same dehumanizing sensation of modernity that is presented in the novel. Awkward sex quota: off the charts.
Sexually dysfunctional people being sexually dysfunctional. That's great and all, but where is the story and reason to care? Atmosphere is decent though, I'll give it that, and I liked the glimpses of Cronenberg's body horror themes.
Worthless and completely uninteresting. The dialogue is especially ridiculous and of course the premise is as well, but the film's biggest failure is how absolutely mundane and boring it is. Oh, Cronenberg certainly tries to shock with all the sex and car crashes but, beyond some faint moral disgust, it elicits nothing because of how terribly constructed the entire affair is.
Cronenberg delivers the usual mash-up of twisted sex and "healthy" dose of violence in dramatic and disturbing fashion (literrally). Essentially a combination of Basic Instinct and Secretary with an NC-17 rating. intriguing, but not in a good way.
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