Theatre of the Less Obvious barrels down the straightaway toward the finish line with installment 17 of those lesser-known car-themed flicks that YOU might have missed! This installment is likely to provoke reactions, and some are likely to be negative, for this go-around puts the spotlight on an extremely controversial movie: a film so polarizing that it caused people to walk out of theatres in fury, was banned in many countries globally and some towns and townships locally, and was refused by several major theatre chains. Audiences and critics alike either hailed it as a work of genius, or damned it as fetishist pornography masquerading as legitimate cinema. My own sister, who has long been a fan of fairly extreme subject matter, described it as “one of the most disgusting movies I’ve ever seen.” And myself? I am generally not a fan of fairly extreme subject matter, and yet (and perhaps this reveals too much of the dark side of your bumble blogger), Crash is a movie I have always appreciated and-while “enjoyed” isn’t quite the right word, perhaps-I find it both compelling and thrilling. While Crash isn’t quite “obscure,” it is a film that likely few people have seen…probably because few people would want to see it, or would be able to tolerate it. That trait makes it eligible, IMHO, for inclusion in the Theatre of the Less Obvious.
Directed by David Cronenberg – who, if he didn’t invent “body horror,” certainly perfected it – Crash is regarded as one of the Canadian filmmaker’s most daring works. It’s often placed alongside his other “body horror” classics like Videodrome and The Fly, though Crash is far more psychological than visceral. The film spirals into a bleak meditation on human disconnection and the ways modern people seek meaning, danger, and intimacy through machinery and destruction.
This is a remarkably faithful adaptation of British writer J.G. Ballard’s controversial novel of the same name. Ballard’s book was less a traditional narrative and more a provocative thesis masquerading as fiction. It too follows a character named James Ballard (a deliberate self-insert by the author) who becomes involved in a group of people who fetishize car crashes. The novel caused a scandal on its own when published in 1973, with many readers and critics finding it morally repugnant or unreadable. But it has also been lauded for its fearless, subversive exploration of technology, sexuality, and the dehumanizing effects of modern life. Cronenberg’s film adaption mirrors the novel’s structure and tone, resisting traditional story arcs in favor of a descent into obsession. The director described the book as “like a piece of sculpture,” and his film likewise offers no emotional catharsis or moral resolution—just a meditation on dangerous desires.
James Ballard (James Spader) is a film producer whose life takes a dark turn after surviving a head-on car crash on a dark icy highway. The driver over of the other car is killed, but his wife, a doctor named Helen Remington (Holly Hunter), miraculously survives with only minor injuries. The pair are taken to the same hospital where, in the aftermath of the carnage, they discover they are erotically aroused by the memory of the wreck and become lovers. In the process, they both become entwined with a strange group of people led by Dr. Robert Vaughan (Elias Koteas), a former scientist turned obsessive car crash fetishist. This underground group is sexually aroused by car crashes, the physical wounds they cause, and the intimacy of technology and flesh colliding. They reenact famous fatal car crashes (like that of James Dean and James Mansfield), document injuries, and indulge in sexual encounters involving their scars, injuries, and vehicles. Ballard’s wife, Catherine (Deborah Kara Unger), who already shared a cold and dispassionate sexual dynamic with him, becomes involved in this world as well.
Crash ignited a firestorm of controversy upon release. When screened at the Cannes Film Festival, the film was booed and applauded in equal measure. It won the Special Jury Prize for Audacity, but was condemned by some critics as “sick” and “depraved.” In the UK, the British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) debated banning the film outright. In the U.S. and Canada, it received an NC-17 rating and played mostly in arthouse cinemas. Roger Ebert called it “sick and depraved—but also challenging and daring,” and gave it a positive review. Others, like Alexander Walker of the London Evening Standard, called it “beyond the bounds of depravity.”
Crash dives into a taboo area: the erotic potential of injury and danger. It’s not just a metaphor—Cronenberg literalizes Ballard’s thesis that “sex is a function of the machine as much as of the body.” The film doesn’t flinch from depicting graphic wounds or unconventional sexual acts involving prosthetics, scars, and metal; there is a stark symbiosis between man and machine here, where cars and machines become bodily extensions and eventually conduits for emotional and sexual experience. The brilliance of the movie’s visual symbolism is that it takes things we usually find repulsive — injury, destruction, death — and presents them as seductive. Cronenberg doesn’t just tell you that technology rewires human desire; he shows you, through every gleaming piece of wreckage and every scarred body part. It is this contortion of the grotesque and the frightening into the titillating and desirable which draws me in.
Several of the characters chose particular cars as their vehicles for their perceived connection to historical events, none more significant than Vaughn’s choice of a black 1962 Lincoln Continental convertible: a car he has chosen because he considers the Kennedy assassination to be “the ultimate car crash.” Having owned one of these cars myself many years ago, and knowing how they feel to drive, gives me a strange and personal connection to the character of Robert Vaughan, and brings me almost too close to the depraved world of these characters.
Those who react with negativity to the subject matter on offer here-and it can be argured that most people will react that way-might also recoil at my expression of admiration for this film, but I’m hardly the only one; both the movie and the novel that preceded it have cast a long shadow over the cultural zeitgeist. The Normal’s 1978 song “Warm Leatherette” was inspired by the novel, and later covered in 1980 by Grace Jones. Similarly inspired was “Miss the Girl,” a 1983 single by The Creatures. John Foxx’s 1980 album Metamatic contains songs that have Ballardian themes, such as “No-one Driving“. All of these songs, artists, and albums have a place in my sprawling record collection.
Crash has a way of pulling you deeper and deeper in if you let it. This is, rather obviously, not a film for the faint of heart. It’s a philosophical provocation disguised as an erotic thriller—and it may be the only film in history where car crashes are the love scenes. Many people will find it a bridge too far. However, If you are willing to embrace its cold, metallic vision, it’s a hypnotic and unforgettable work of cinematic transgression.
SO…Where can you see it?
Although Crash was made by a renown – if often controversial – filmmaker, and was produced by a major studio, it was also done on a limited budget, and its “difficult” subject matter stymied it’s reach as a theatrical release. As a result, it is not as easy to find as one might think. This is complicated by its rather generic title, as there are at least 2 or 3 other movies with the same name, including the much better-known “racism drama” that came out around 2005. The only place I am aware that it is currently available for streaming is Amazon Prime: it is not available on Netflix or any of the free streaming services. It was available on Apple TV at one point, but appears to have vanished from that platform. It has, of course, been released on both DVD and Blu-Ray, and this may be your best bet, since it appears to be widely available from online vendors at reasonable prices, and unless you’re lucky enough to be within reach of a cool indie movie shop, you are unlikely to find it on the shelf at a mainstream store. If you want to get spendy, the best platform would be the deluxe reissue by The Criterion Collection from 2021, which includes a restored print of the film and an entire disc of bonus material.
Proceed with caution, dear readers: the subject matter here is very disturbing, and the many explicit scenes are likely to repel casual viewers. Even so, it’s hard to look away from Crash once you come upon it…
I remember well watching this with you. Though it’s been a long time now, I remember taking away that parable of obsession and how different people can react very differently to events. While I have never been in a crash like this, I can only imagine the experience being nothing short of life altering. No one can really how someone will react to it and the aftermath. In some ways, at least thinking about it now, I’m reminded of Fight Club, both movies are telling a story / parable / aspect of human nature using an extreme setting to make the point. I remember seeing that Lincoln destroyed being traumatic.
You were one of the few people in my life who was brave and adventurous enough to watch this flick with me! It definitely leaves an impression, eh? Yeah, the destruction of that Lincoln was tragic, although I did enjoy its “Lazurus” moment at the very end!