Crash
Written and directed by Paul Haggis.
Starring: Don Cheadle, Brendan Fraser, Sandra Bullock, Matt Dillon,
Terrance Howard, Thandie Newton, Ryan Phillippe, Chris "ludacris" Bridges,
Larenz Tate.
Collision certainly closes distance, instantly. Is it possible that we are driven to collide and crash in order to feel the intimacy of touch?
Crash achieves, in quick grabs of time, an intimacy with a lot of people we don’t know and might not even want to know. But the wretchedness of their lives we do know, only too well. "If you leave this film and don’t see a piece of yourself you’re a liar," challenges Sandra Bullock (Jean, the DA’s Brentwood wife).
Visceral pleasure and pain is instantly harnessed and mid guffaw we gasp with horror at what has just transpired and everything transpires quickly. This is the butterfly effect fast forward and not always with grace.
Homage or otherwise, this film recalls a lot of films, each time with a further, mostly intriguing, turn. Stereotypes abound and are even referenced as conversational, socio-analytic critique. Racial stereotypes are there; white man, black man, china man, mexican and arab. So too are domestic types; mother, father, son, prodigal son and golden child. All are redeemed, or are they? Is any one stereotype triumphant at the expense of another? This is one for the deconstructionists. Who is having the most ‘irreverent fun?’
Crash is a compelling exploration and exploitation of human frailty, writ large. It is human tension of global proportion played out locally on the streets of Los Angeles, and everyone is playing. The city’s District Attorney (Brendan Fraser) leads a dance of steps, sidesteps and back flips in a socio-political minefield.
Officer John Ryan (Matt Dillon) insists, "You think you know who you are. You have no idea". Collision with this film might provide some clues. It did for me.
Lou Crow
