Blood Capsule #72

CRASH (1996)

A female ass!  Don't report me to the authorities, whatever you do. Well, I have to say that I don't know how to gauge Crash.  Clearly, it's not meant to be a realistic film, and I get that, but how am I supposed to relate to these characters?  There is no touchstone of commonality, no intersection with verisimilitude.  I grasp why the movie goldbricks plausibility, but that doesn't help its case.  It needs an emotional anchor.  I use that term in a relative sense, as I know full well who installed this cylinder.  Car reference!  Sorry, I'm clueless when it comes to automobiles.  In other words, Crash is fucking aloof, even for a David Cronenberg picture.

If you're not up on the plot, James Spader develops a fetish for car crashes and car crash victims.  That's...it.  At certain junctures, he "makes love" to an open wound and Elias Koteas's anus.  Would you call those plot twists?  Croney is trying to say several things about our compulsion to feel and experience intense sensations, but in my opinion, most of those apothegms are lost under tiers of hazy metaphors.  Crash isn't necessarily bad.  It's certainly well-acted. I'm kind of glad that this is a blood capsule because I couldn't even begin to assess a Z'Dar rating.  There is plenty of sex to keep the dummies awake.  Calm down; I didn't claim that I wasn't a dummy.  A naked, panting Deborah Kara Unger will slacken anyone's IQ.

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