I have a form of phobia regarding driving, which is why I have no desire to get a driver’s license. I am even more terrified of physical injury-the mere thought of compound fractures, hematomas, or other forms of "guro" (graphic, visceral imagery) makes me feel deeply uneasy. Because the 1996 film "Crash" was described as a "highly perverted" movie- featuring a cult of deviants who derive sexual pleasure from car accidents - i hesitated for a long time before deciding to watch it.
Eventually, I gathered the courage to sit down and watch it; I couldn't simply ignore a 90s classic, and I needed to write a review for a film club I was part of.
Within ten minutes, my nerves had settled -what I was seeing was nothing more than standard, "vanilla" Hollywood special-effects makeup. I concluded that the original reviews must have been written by people of its time. Another fifteen minutes later, I found myself wondering just how dull people’s lives must have been back then, given that they would sit in a movie theater, watching this with their mouths agape. As an ordinary, somewhat shy person living in the modern day, I possess a far more sophisticated - and extensive -familiarity with "guro" and sexual deviations, than I thought.
The only real merit I can point to is the film’s aesthetic. The BDSM-inspired visuals are, in fact, quite convincingly rendered. I suspect the film was crafted by enthusiasts themselves -a reflection of how they perceive their own subculture. (And I don’t just mean J.G. Ballard, whose book served as the basis for the screenplay.)
Then again, most professionally produced films from the late 20th century are visually polished, so I’m not inclined to grant this movie any extra credit simply because the cinematographers and costume designers did their jobs well.
This is a common issue with cultural phenomena that claim to be "risky" or "groundbreaking." For instance, back in the 1950s, a young French actress might appear on screen in a two-piece swimsuit - an event that was, for its time, truly momentous. It marked the beginning of the sexual revolution and the liberation of people from the neuroses of the previous era. That young woman would go on to become the legendary Brigitte Bardot.
Yet, looking back at that same film today, that "symbol of liberation" is no longer visible. The girl in the bikini has simply blended into the billions of women for whom wearing a swimsuit on the beach is an entirely mundane, everyday occurrence. What remains is a poorly written script and actors who don’t even bother to deliver a convincing performance. And the girl is a 14 years old, by the way.
"Crash" was, in its day, a genuinely groundbreaking film that pushed the boundaries of what was considered acceptable. Today, however, we have the opportunity to observe all manner of fetishes and, more importantly, the people who produce and engage with them up close. Usually there is nothing particularly aesthetic or interesting to be found there.
Consider, by way of comparison, another film featuring James Spader: "Secretary". It also explores the theme of sadomasochism and belongs to that same wave of erotic cinema from the 90s and 2000s. In my view, however, it has aged far better than "Crash". The difference lies in the filmmakers' approach to the subject matter -it is handled with more irony and, perhaps, a greater sense of kindness toward the characters themselves.Ultimately, "Secretary" evolved into a lighthearted erotic comedy about the romantic love between two somewhat eccentric individuals. "Crash" much like a hundred other erotic films of that period (such as Basic Instinct) was undone by the self-important gravity of its own premise: "Prepare yourself, dear viewer -we are about to show you something *profound* regarding sex and the subconscious..."
A work of art remains relevant as long as its integrity is preserved. When an element is lost, the artwork turns into a "retro" piece –a mere witness to its own era.